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wardenred's reviews
844 reviews
Of Starlit Balls and Starship Captains by K.L. Noone
The concept/premise of this short story is so incredibly fun. I loved this take on a “space regency” society, the way Kit spoke about space exploration, and all the fun implications the empire’s semi-recent history offered. Unfortunately, it’s one of those stories that clearly need more space to shine. Or perhaps it’s how it was written, with the set-up taking up more than half of the page count. For a story billed as romance, the leads meet too late and their interactions end up incredibly rushed, to the point that it makes very little sense. Which is a pity, because what can be seen of their personalities—Kit’s especially, since she’s the one we get to spend more time with—is pretty compelling. Even with the constraints, there’s some nice, sparkly dialogue and the beginnings of chemistry taking root, and I’d love to see more of this relationship, just like I’d love to see more of this world.
Like, honestly, there’s lots of goodness here! Except it reads like a first chapter of a long-form work with a quick extra scene tacked on.
emotional
inspiring
fast-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? No
Catherine, you’ve made your point. You needn’t run around in the dirt of strange planets any longer. We all know you can, if you so desire; you’re perfectly capable of whatever you’d like to achieve. So you’re welcome to return home for the Emperor’s celebration gala.
The concept/premise of this short story is so incredibly fun. I loved this take on a “space regency” society, the way Kit spoke about space exploration, and all the fun implications the empire’s semi-recent history offered. Unfortunately, it’s one of those stories that clearly need more space to shine. Or perhaps it’s how it was written, with the set-up taking up more than half of the page count. For a story billed as romance, the leads meet too late and their interactions end up incredibly rushed, to the point that it makes very little sense. Which is a pity, because what can be seen of their personalities—Kit’s especially, since she’s the one we get to spend more time with—is pretty compelling. Even with the constraints, there’s some nice, sparkly dialogue and the beginnings of chemistry taking root, and I’d love to see more of this relationship, just like I’d love to see more of this world.
Like, honestly, there’s lots of goodness here! Except it reads like a first chapter of a long-form work with a quick extra scene tacked on.
Content Warnings
Moderate: Misogyny
All Hail the Underdogs by E.L. Massey
Technically, this is the third installment in the Breakaway series, but the main characters change here and the connections to the first two books are honestly minimal, so this felt more like a standalone. On one hand, that was a bit of a disappointment because I love Alex and Eli from books 1-2 so, so much and I would have loved to see them and Alex’s teammates again rather than just get a vague mention. On the other hand, the absence of my old faves let me focus on Rome and Damien more, and now I have new faves, because damn, these two broken boys absolutely ruined me. I smiled, I felt teary-eyed, I was mad and frustrated, I got cozy and content—this book was an emotional ride, start to finish, in all the absolute best ways.
My favorite part was almost definitely Rome’s entire journey toward learning to let people in. The first time he asked others for help I literally cheered out loud, because the author conveyed so well just how hard it was for him to do it. His initial abrasiveness was described with such raw compassion, it was obvious that he was hurting inside and unequipped for dealing with kindness. When you’ve gone without for long enough, kindness *hurts*, so it was so understandable why he tried to protect himself from the pain. But as understandable as it was, I absolutely ached for Damien whose best intentions kept getting rejected—and I was so happy when they started to gradually, realistically, bit by bit find mutual understanding. And that understanding morphing into feelings? Chef’s kiss.
Then again, maybe my favorite part is Damien’s relationship with poetry and words and how he was constantly trying to process his feelings through his art. Or maybe it’s the way the book does away with toxic masculinity and initiates some great discussion about the intersections of marginalizations and privileges. Or maybe it’s the awesome found family vibe and how the group dynamic unfolds around the central relationship. Or the parts where they visit each other’s homes, and how the descriptions of those places subtly add to the characterization. Or every part where listening to music was involved, especially since the characters’ playlist have so much in common with mine.
Gah. So many strengths, so many favorite parts. But to bring up some weaknesses, too—there was definitely too little sports in this sports romance. Like… I never doubted Damien’s poetry was super important to him and wasn’t surprised to see him lean toward it over hockey. And I got the feeling that Rome’s relationship with hockey, in turn, was supposed to be kind of like that, too: his thing, something that helps him process, gives him meaning. There were absolutely attempts to present it that way, but in the end, they fell a bit flat. Maybe hockey’s just a thing Rome’s been doing because that’s the one good, fun thing he’s encountered so far, he doesn’t realize he’s got choices (and realistically speaking, being dirt-poor, doesn’t have *immediate* choices), it’s his ticket to a better life in the future because he’s talented, etc. Maybe he’d prefer to be doing something else and just doesn’t know it.
I’ve been thinking about why I perceive it that way, because there definitely were attempts to both show and tell that Rome loves hockey, and I think the problem is that there are no key scenes that involve it, the kind that would strongly drive the plot/relationship/personal arcs forward. There are such scenes that involve Damien and poetry, but all the hockey just happens very much in the background. All the important beats are hit outside of it. The whole gang could have been playing basketball or baseball instead, or just been gifted kids in a special program, or whatever. Hockey doesn’t hold that much meaning within the plot, so I find it hard to buy that it holds so much meaning for the character.
There’s another thing that didn’t sit well with me, though it’s less a weakness and more a matter of preference: the whole Finley subplot in the second half. It made me a bit uncomfortable. Unlike the first two books that are firmly NA, this one is YA, with characters being teens not yet out of high school, and the idea that they would suddenlydecide they want to be parents ASAP when they had trouble talking about holding hands just weeks ago… Idk, it made pretty little sense. Like, yeah, I get why Rome felt so attached to his newborn sister, and it made perfect sense for him to want to be a part of her life. But wanting to adopt her, when he’s freshly emancipated, hasn’t had a real childhood, has had super limited life experiences due to growing up poor in an abusive situation, and all in all, when he’s just a kid dealing with plenty? That didn’t feel like a healthy decision, and it didn’t feel healthy on Damien’s part to get so attached to the idea, either. Both of them struggle with different types of abandonment issues, and I feel like they just projected those issues on Finley and the adults around them should have been more concerned rather than going all “Awwwww.” Yes, there was some discussion around this choice and the logistics of it and how to best make it work, but it didn’t convince me that it was a reasonable choice in the first place. I think both guys should have first figured out their individual lives and their relationship and whether each of them is truly “the one” to the other. Because I ship them a lot, but also, they’re seventeen/eighteen. Everything can feel so all-encompassing and forever in that age; not everything is.
emotional
hopeful
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
4.5
“Look,” he snaps. “I just want to be alone for, like, five minutes, okay? Take a fucking hint.”
“Okay,” Damien agrees placidly. “Do you actually want to be alone though? Or do you feel like you have to be?”
“The hell does that even—”
“Hey,” Damien says. “If you need to be a dick to me right now, that’s okay. If you need me to leave you alone, I will. But don’t make me leave because you feel like you’re not allowed to have feelings in front of other people.”
Technically, this is the third installment in the Breakaway series, but the main characters change here and the connections to the first two books are honestly minimal, so this felt more like a standalone. On one hand, that was a bit of a disappointment because I love Alex and Eli from books 1-2 so, so much and I would have loved to see them and Alex’s teammates again rather than just get a vague mention. On the other hand, the absence of my old faves let me focus on Rome and Damien more, and now I have new faves, because damn, these two broken boys absolutely ruined me. I smiled, I felt teary-eyed, I was mad and frustrated, I got cozy and content—this book was an emotional ride, start to finish, in all the absolute best ways.
My favorite part was almost definitely Rome’s entire journey toward learning to let people in. The first time he asked others for help I literally cheered out loud, because the author conveyed so well just how hard it was for him to do it. His initial abrasiveness was described with such raw compassion, it was obvious that he was hurting inside and unequipped for dealing with kindness. When you’ve gone without for long enough, kindness *hurts*, so it was so understandable why he tried to protect himself from the pain. But as understandable as it was, I absolutely ached for Damien whose best intentions kept getting rejected—and I was so happy when they started to gradually, realistically, bit by bit find mutual understanding. And that understanding morphing into feelings? Chef’s kiss.
Then again, maybe my favorite part is Damien’s relationship with poetry and words and how he was constantly trying to process his feelings through his art. Or maybe it’s the way the book does away with toxic masculinity and initiates some great discussion about the intersections of marginalizations and privileges. Or maybe it’s the awesome found family vibe and how the group dynamic unfolds around the central relationship. Or the parts where they visit each other’s homes, and how the descriptions of those places subtly add to the characterization. Or every part where listening to music was involved, especially since the characters’ playlist have so much in common with mine.
Gah. So many strengths, so many favorite parts. But to bring up some weaknesses, too—there was definitely too little sports in this sports romance. Like… I never doubted Damien’s poetry was super important to him and wasn’t surprised to see him lean toward it over hockey. And I got the feeling that Rome’s relationship with hockey, in turn, was supposed to be kind of like that, too: his thing, something that helps him process, gives him meaning. There were absolutely attempts to present it that way, but in the end, they fell a bit flat. Maybe hockey’s just a thing Rome’s been doing because that’s the one good, fun thing he’s encountered so far, he doesn’t realize he’s got choices (and realistically speaking, being dirt-poor, doesn’t have *immediate* choices), it’s his ticket to a better life in the future because he’s talented, etc. Maybe he’d prefer to be doing something else and just doesn’t know it.
I’ve been thinking about why I perceive it that way, because there definitely were attempts to both show and tell that Rome loves hockey, and I think the problem is that there are no key scenes that involve it, the kind that would strongly drive the plot/relationship/personal arcs forward. There are such scenes that involve Damien and poetry, but all the hockey just happens very much in the background. All the important beats are hit outside of it. The whole gang could have been playing basketball or baseball instead, or just been gifted kids in a special program, or whatever. Hockey doesn’t hold that much meaning within the plot, so I find it hard to buy that it holds so much meaning for the character.
There’s another thing that didn’t sit well with me, though it’s less a weakness and more a matter of preference: the whole Finley subplot in the second half. It made me a bit uncomfortable. Unlike the first two books that are firmly NA, this one is YA, with characters being teens not yet out of high school, and the idea that they would suddenly
Content Warnings
Graphic: Child abuse, Abandonment, and Alcohol
Minor: Addiction
Wolfsong by TJ Klune
Normally, I can split TJ Klune’s works into two distinct categories: books that feel like they were made for me and books that make me cringe so hard I can’t finish them. This one is a curious beast that doesn’t fully fit either shelf. It does lean strongly toward the “made for me,” and it only made me cringe in that weird special secondhand embarrassment way once, but there are some aspects of it that leave me uncomfortable.
Technically, this is a paranormal romance, but with the deep dive into the main character’s head and life story and the way it starts with Ox being in about his mid-teens and follows him from a lonely, bullied kid to a position of local power with a strong support network, it reads kind of like a bildungsroman. I really enjoyed hanging out with Ox through all of his trials and tribulations, seeing him grow into his potential, watching other characters appreciate him. Despite the hardships he’s had to face, overall this journey felt healing, heartwarming, and life-affirming.
For the most part, I really enjoyed the writing. It was poignant, immersive, and I liked how all sorts of small descriptions of the characters’ surroundings were woven into their interactions. All those little touches that grounded the story in specific locations and breathed life into those places. At the same time, there were definitely parts that got incredibly repetitive. I recognize why those persistent memories/motives were important for Ox, but I think there were other ways to include them without just saying the same thing over and over every couple of chapters. For example, instead of having him recall his mother popping a soap bubble on his ear, he could have seen a soap bubble in real time and had some kind of feeling, or got soap in his ear, etc. Those would still send the reader’s mind back to the original soap bubble scene, if timed appropriately. And that’s just one example, there are many more I can think of.
What really didn’t sit well for me, until way into the second half of the book, was the romance. The characters meet when Ox is 16 and Joe is 10, and Joe immediately feels the pressing need to latch onto Ox with all his energy. For the longest time, there’s nothing there but friendship, and Ox also becomes friends with Joe’s older brothers who are closer to him in age. But then at some point, when Ox is 23 and Joe is 17, the transition to romance starts, and while it was slow and nothing sexual happened at that time, it just made me uncomfortable. Like, come on, how do you just stop seeing Joe as a kid in this situation? Especially since he is still a kid! A six-year gap is often nothing between adults, but the younger people are, the more even a couple of years matters, and in this case, Joe has been growing up in front of Ox and Ox has practically become a family member. It was just. Really weird. In the second half of the book, when they started reconnecting after Joe’s been away for a while for plot reasons, that sense of weirdness was pretty much absent though, unless I focused on the fact that they had already attempted a relationship before Joe’s departure. I think if there was no such attempt and the romance only begun when they reconnected, I would have enjoyed the story way more. Because that period of absence gave them both a chance to grow individually and amass their own life experiences, making them into slightly different people and creating a distance between the kids they were and the adults they become.
My favorite aspect of the book is undeniably the found family Ox builds as he goes, starting with Gordo’s shop so early on and ending up with his own big pack. I loved how pretty much every character in this big network had depth, and all the individual connections and relationships were so unique. I also appreciated how the presence of all these people/wolves/witches in Ox’s life didn’t fully erase the scars from his father’s abandoning him. That was something that still had happened, and left its mark, but he ended up having, or rather building, something new, something important, something future-shaped. There’s actually a lot of scar-related symbolism in the book that focuses on the weight of our past experiences, even the painful once, and how healing from them doesn’t mean rendering them insignificant, and this is something that resonates with me a lot. I’m very here for it.
emotional
hopeful
reflective
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
4.0
It was candy canes and pinecones. It was epic and awesome. And it was home.
Normally, I can split TJ Klune’s works into two distinct categories: books that feel like they were made for me and books that make me cringe so hard I can’t finish them. This one is a curious beast that doesn’t fully fit either shelf. It does lean strongly toward the “made for me,” and it only made me cringe in that weird special secondhand embarrassment way once, but there are some aspects of it that leave me uncomfortable.
Technically, this is a paranormal romance, but with the deep dive into the main character’s head and life story and the way it starts with Ox being in about his mid-teens and follows him from a lonely, bullied kid to a position of local power with a strong support network, it reads kind of like a bildungsroman. I really enjoyed hanging out with Ox through all of his trials and tribulations, seeing him grow into his potential, watching other characters appreciate him. Despite the hardships he’s had to face, overall this journey felt healing, heartwarming, and life-affirming.
For the most part, I really enjoyed the writing. It was poignant, immersive, and I liked how all sorts of small descriptions of the characters’ surroundings were woven into their interactions. All those little touches that grounded the story in specific locations and breathed life into those places. At the same time, there were definitely parts that got incredibly repetitive. I recognize why those persistent memories/motives were important for Ox, but I think there were other ways to include them without just saying the same thing over and over every couple of chapters. For example, instead of having him recall his mother popping a soap bubble on his ear, he could have seen a soap bubble in real time and had some kind of feeling, or got soap in his ear, etc. Those would still send the reader’s mind back to the original soap bubble scene, if timed appropriately. And that’s just one example, there are many more I can think of.
What really didn’t sit well for me, until way into the second half of the book, was the romance. The characters meet when Ox is 16 and Joe is 10, and Joe immediately feels the pressing need to latch onto Ox with all his energy. For the longest time, there’s nothing there but friendship, and Ox also becomes friends with Joe’s older brothers who are closer to him in age. But then at some point, when Ox is 23 and Joe is 17, the transition to romance starts, and while it was slow and nothing sexual happened at that time, it just made me uncomfortable. Like, come on, how do you just stop seeing Joe as a kid in this situation? Especially since he is still a kid! A six-year gap is often nothing between adults, but the younger people are, the more even a couple of years matters, and in this case, Joe has been growing up in front of Ox and Ox has practically become a family member. It was just. Really weird. In the second half of the book, when they started reconnecting after Joe’s been away for a while for plot reasons, that sense of weirdness was pretty much absent though, unless I focused on the fact that they had already attempted a relationship before Joe’s departure. I think if there was no such attempt and the romance only begun when they reconnected, I would have enjoyed the story way more. Because that period of absence gave them both a chance to grow individually and amass their own life experiences, making them into slightly different people and creating a distance between the kids they were and the adults they become.
My favorite aspect of the book is undeniably the found family Ox builds as he goes, starting with Gordo’s shop so early on and ending up with his own big pack. I loved how pretty much every character in this big network had depth, and all the individual connections and relationships were so unique. I also appreciated how the presence of all these people/wolves/witches in Ox’s life didn’t fully erase the scars from his father’s abandoning him. That was something that still had happened, and left its mark, but he ended up having, or rather building, something new, something important, something future-shaped. There’s actually a lot of scar-related symbolism in the book that focuses on the weight of our past experiences, even the painful once, and how healing from them doesn’t mean rendering them insignificant, and this is something that resonates with me a lot. I’m very here for it.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Ableism, Blood, Death of parent, Abandonment, and Injury/Injury detail
Moderate: Bullying, Torture, and Kidnapping
Legendborn by Tracy Deonn
adventurous
inspiring
tense
fast-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.25
I don’t want to get lost in the past. I want to embrace it and understand it.
Wow! This book is a lot—mostly in a very good way. In many ways, it felt like a whole season of a tv-show. The pre-Netflix days kind, the type with ~24 episodes that can afford to start a little slow, to include entire complete plot arcs inside its structure, to pivot now and then in new directions, and to end on a mouthwatering cliffhanger. The worldbuilding here has LOTS of moving parts, with the same aspects of the worlds meaning different things to different factions. Bree, the main character, is on about three intersecting journeys at once: working through her grief after her mother’s death, digging for the truth about her family’s past, and dealing with the whole “descendants of the Round Table knights are a modern-day secret society fighting demons” plot. With a single book being so packed, there was a bunch of stuff that kind of fell by the wayside / begged to be cleaned up a bit, but overall, I really enjoyed the experience. Not in small part because Bree is just such a likable character and her inner struggles are so well-written.
For something so big and expansive, the book is plotted really well, with the various storylines overall balanced against each other. The twists are set up subtly ahead of time and make sense while also being surprising. For a 500-pages book, this never felt overwritten or bloated. All the storylines and events were absolutely necessary for the bigger picture, and there’s clearly a lot of groundwork done for whatever’s to come in the next books (which I’m definitely picking up!). I loved how some of the events, both in Bree’s past and present, got recontextualized over the course of the story as more and more information was revealed. Even some layers in this plot have layers, and I’m really here for this.
I also very much enjoyed the prose and the character’s voice. There’s something incredibly endearing about it, and I felt like the writing nicely straddled the line between “to the point” and “pretty,” if that makes sense? On the whole, this is a plot-first story and the prose doesn’t distract from the events and conveys them effectively and smoothly. But there are also, nearly in every chapter, some nice, heartstring-tugging quotable lines, some small, memorable turns of phrase. Also, the banter is pretty great, especially whenever Sel enters the chat.
Another thing I appreciated a lot was how the questions of race were handled. I’m a white person who grew up in an overwhelmingly white environment, so it’s not my place to speak of how realistic, relatable etc this depiction actually is. But Bree’s experiences being the only person of color in environments designed for white people resonated with me and reminded me of the experience of being the only trans or the only neurodivergent person in a room. I found the way the worst aspects of the historical past were brought up and acknowledged and woven into the plot to be pretty thoughtful, and the book constantly made me think about all the ways we as humans could do better by each other, but like… not in a preachy way. More in a, “so these are the events that I know would have happened totally differently if they happened to someone not systematically discriminated against, now it’s my choice whether to dwell on it or not.”
Moving on from the gushing to the not so good parts, with such a focus on plot what sadly suffered was the character work. I’ve spotted a good number of situations where characters were so blatantly used as plot devices, like, ouch. There were no smoke and mirrors used to cover up the fact that they moved into specific positions or did specific things because that was necessary for the next plot point to happen (as opposed to creating the feeling that the next plot point only happened because certain characters, driven by their goals, conflicts, and motivations, made certain choices; the distinction might be subtle at times, but it’s there). The biggest example is Alice, Bree’s supposed best friend. She just really only exists for the plot. She pops in and out of the story depending on whether her involvement can move Bree’s arc forward. She only ever does and says things that nudge Bree into the correct plot position. We know next to nothing about her own life, struggles, interests, opinions, anything—because she and Bree never talk about anything that isn’t about Bree’s current predicaments. Like come onnnn, at least try to make me believe there’s a fictional person behind the name! Sadness. At least other characters utilized in this manner get some moments of depths and humanity, too.
The richness of the setting also has a downside in how it’s all delivered. With the timeline being pretty tight (more on that in a minute) and Bree being a complete newcomer to the world of the supernatural and having to get immersed into not just one but two ways of perceiving this new world, it’s understandable that the options for conveying all the information were limited. But seriously, the first 1/3 of the book or so is just so full of lectures and explanations and telling, telling, telling that it got kind of tiresome. And speaking of the timeline, I felt like the book was generally well-paced until I looked back, did some math, and realized that the whole avalanche of events took place over like a few weeks at most. Like, damn! All this stuff could be safely spread over an entire school term, giving characters and relationships more room to breathe, and providing more opportunities for organically introducing worldbuilding details.
And for something that I’m not sure is an actual weakness as it’s a “not for me” thing: ugh, the love triangle. I sometimes enjoy them, when the choice between love interests also represents a choice between morals, lifestyles, goals, etc, but I didn’t feel this was at all the case here. And Bree’s romance with Nick, especially given the timeline, was just was rushed, insta-love-y, and plot-device-y, it did nothing for me and actually stood in the way of enjoying certain parts of the book. (Though it’s interesting that very late in the story, amidst the final twists, the narrative sort of acknowledges this and provides in-universe explanation!) With Sel at least there’s a logical, emotionally charged progression from animosity to teamwork, plus he got all the best dialogue lines. So I guess that puts me on his team. but really, I felt that while this type of romantic subplot is a staple of the genre, it wasn’t super necessary for this specific story. I would have much preferred some of the page count that went into romance to be spent on having Bree clash and connect with other members of the amazingly diverse cast in a variety of ways.
Wow! This book is a lot—mostly in a very good way. In many ways, it felt like a whole season of a tv-show. The pre-Netflix days kind, the type with ~24 episodes that can afford to start a little slow, to include entire complete plot arcs inside its structure, to pivot now and then in new directions, and to end on a mouthwatering cliffhanger. The worldbuilding here has LOTS of moving parts, with the same aspects of the worlds meaning different things to different factions. Bree, the main character, is on about three intersecting journeys at once: working through her grief after her mother’s death, digging for the truth about her family’s past, and dealing with the whole “descendants of the Round Table knights are a modern-day secret society fighting demons” plot. With a single book being so packed, there was a bunch of stuff that kind of fell by the wayside / begged to be cleaned up a bit, but overall, I really enjoyed the experience. Not in small part because Bree is just such a likable character and her inner struggles are so well-written.
For something so big and expansive, the book is plotted really well, with the various storylines overall balanced against each other. The twists are set up subtly ahead of time and make sense while also being surprising. For a 500-pages book, this never felt overwritten or bloated. All the storylines and events were absolutely necessary for the bigger picture, and there’s clearly a lot of groundwork done for whatever’s to come in the next books (which I’m definitely picking up!). I loved how some of the events, both in Bree’s past and present, got recontextualized over the course of the story as more and more information was revealed. Even some layers in this plot have layers, and I’m really here for this.
I also very much enjoyed the prose and the character’s voice. There’s something incredibly endearing about it, and I felt like the writing nicely straddled the line between “to the point” and “pretty,” if that makes sense? On the whole, this is a plot-first story and the prose doesn’t distract from the events and conveys them effectively and smoothly. But there are also, nearly in every chapter, some nice, heartstring-tugging quotable lines, some small, memorable turns of phrase. Also, the banter is pretty great, especially whenever Sel enters the chat.
Another thing I appreciated a lot was how the questions of race were handled. I’m a white person who grew up in an overwhelmingly white environment, so it’s not my place to speak of how realistic, relatable etc this depiction actually is. But Bree’s experiences being the only person of color in environments designed for white people resonated with me and reminded me of the experience of being the only trans or the only neurodivergent person in a room. I found the way the worst aspects of the historical past were brought up and acknowledged and woven into the plot to be pretty thoughtful, and the book constantly made me think about all the ways we as humans could do better by each other, but like… not in a preachy way. More in a, “so these are the events that I know would have happened totally differently if they happened to someone not systematically discriminated against, now it’s my choice whether to dwell on it or not.”
Moving on from the gushing to the not so good parts, with such a focus on plot what sadly suffered was the character work. I’ve spotted a good number of situations where characters were so blatantly used as plot devices, like, ouch. There were no smoke and mirrors used to cover up the fact that they moved into specific positions or did specific things because that was necessary for the next plot point to happen (as opposed to creating the feeling that the next plot point only happened because certain characters, driven by their goals, conflicts, and motivations, made certain choices; the distinction might be subtle at times, but it’s there). The biggest example is Alice, Bree’s supposed best friend. She just really only exists for the plot. She pops in and out of the story depending on whether her involvement can move Bree’s arc forward. She only ever does and says things that nudge Bree into the correct plot position. We know next to nothing about her own life, struggles, interests, opinions, anything—because she and Bree never talk about anything that isn’t about Bree’s current predicaments. Like come onnnn, at least try to make me believe there’s a fictional person behind the name! Sadness. At least other characters utilized in this manner get some moments of depths and humanity, too.
The richness of the setting also has a downside in how it’s all delivered. With the timeline being pretty tight (more on that in a minute) and Bree being a complete newcomer to the world of the supernatural and having to get immersed into not just one but two ways of perceiving this new world, it’s understandable that the options for conveying all the information were limited. But seriously, the first 1/3 of the book or so is just so full of lectures and explanations and telling, telling, telling that it got kind of tiresome. And speaking of the timeline, I felt like the book was generally well-paced until I looked back, did some math, and realized that the whole avalanche of events took place over like a few weeks at most. Like, damn! All this stuff could be safely spread over an entire school term, giving characters and relationships more room to breathe, and providing more opportunities for organically introducing worldbuilding details.
And for something that I’m not sure is an actual weakness as it’s a “not for me” thing: ugh, the love triangle. I sometimes enjoy them, when the choice between love interests also represents a choice between morals, lifestyles, goals, etc, but I didn’t feel this was at all the case here. And Bree’s romance with Nick, especially given the timeline, was just was rushed, insta-love-y, and plot-device-y, it did nothing for me and actually stood in the way of enjoying certain parts of the book. (Though it’s interesting that very late in the story, amidst the final twists, the narrative sort of acknowledges this and provides in-universe explanation!) With Sel at least there’s a logical, emotionally charged progression from animosity to teamwork, plus he got all the best dialogue lines. So I guess that puts me on his team. but really, I felt that while this type of romantic subplot is a staple of the genre, it wasn’t super necessary for this specific story. I would have much preferred some of the page count that went into romance to be spent on having Bree clash and connect with other members of the amazingly diverse cast in a variety of ways.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Racism, Grief, Death of parent, and Injury/Injury detail
Moderate: Death, Violence, and Fire/Fire injury
Minor: Sexism, Sexual assault, and Slavery
Scarlet by Genevieve Cogman
Did not finish book. Stopped at 6%.
Did not finish book. Stopped at 6%.
I kept picking it up, reading a page, and putting it back down. I think the writing style just isn't working for me. Maybe I'll try it again at some point later, but for now, I'd rather move on to other books.
The Last Hope School for Magical Delinquents by Nicki Pau Preto
I don’t often pick up middle grade books, so I always struggle a bit with reviewing them. What if I’m misjudging something because I’m not the target audience and don’t have the correct baseline? But anyway, I definitely had a lot of fun with this one. The titular school is such a fun, whimsical place that gave off a tiny bit of The House in the Cerulean Sea vibe (but from the kids’ perspective) with perhaps a whiff of Seanan McGuire’s Wayward Children for good measure. I loved the portrayal of magic as something both beautiful and dangerous, and how a kid’s mental health situation may affect their control, and how the school encourages everyone to grow and experiment and heal if needed. This whole approach is something that really resonates with me and was a joy to read.
However, while I loved how all the themes around magic were handled here and for the most part enjoyed the magic system, I think the way the system itself was laid out turned out a bit confusing. It took me longer than comfortable to remember all of the branches and the differences between them and to start correctly attributing all the same-ish names in my head. It’s not impossible that my attention span’s just not spanning very well these days, but I’m still left with the impression that these parts of the worldbuilding were a bit too convoluted.
Another strong theme in the book is the importance of friendship, and I really liked watching Vin actually make friends. The bond she forges with Gilly, Araminta, and Theo is beautiful, and the way this friendship slowly takes shape and grows is so realistic, with Vin’s abandonment issues, social awkwardness, and anxiety complicating things but never turning into insurmountable obstacles. I felt all the kids were so vividly written and realistic, and it was interesting to see the subtle differences in how they communicated with each other and with the adult characters, or how they dealt with experiences such as anxiety in ways slightly different from how an adult would tackle those but still very recognizable.
I can’t quite decide whether the mystery at the center of the plot is as predictable as I found it, or if it’s just the “not the target audience” case. Regardless, I remained hooked by all the friendship and magic, and overall this has been a heartwarming, exciting read that I would definitely recommend to MG fantasy readers. Especially to kids dealing with anxiety, because I’d sure love to have something like this back when I was one myself!
adventurous
funny
hopeful
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
4.0
“It’s a top-rate facility, I assure you.”
“Are there others? Schools for magical delinquents?”
“Well…not as such.”
“So it’s not a top facility; it’s the only facility.”
I don’t often pick up middle grade books, so I always struggle a bit with reviewing them. What if I’m misjudging something because I’m not the target audience and don’t have the correct baseline? But anyway, I definitely had a lot of fun with this one. The titular school is such a fun, whimsical place that gave off a tiny bit of The House in the Cerulean Sea vibe (but from the kids’ perspective) with perhaps a whiff of Seanan McGuire’s Wayward Children for good measure. I loved the portrayal of magic as something both beautiful and dangerous, and how a kid’s mental health situation may affect their control, and how the school encourages everyone to grow and experiment and heal if needed. This whole approach is something that really resonates with me and was a joy to read.
However, while I loved how all the themes around magic were handled here and for the most part enjoyed the magic system, I think the way the system itself was laid out turned out a bit confusing. It took me longer than comfortable to remember all of the branches and the differences between them and to start correctly attributing all the same-ish names in my head. It’s not impossible that my attention span’s just not spanning very well these days, but I’m still left with the impression that these parts of the worldbuilding were a bit too convoluted.
Another strong theme in the book is the importance of friendship, and I really liked watching Vin actually make friends. The bond she forges with Gilly, Araminta, and Theo is beautiful, and the way this friendship slowly takes shape and grows is so realistic, with Vin’s abandonment issues, social awkwardness, and anxiety complicating things but never turning into insurmountable obstacles. I felt all the kids were so vividly written and realistic, and it was interesting to see the subtle differences in how they communicated with each other and with the adult characters, or how they dealt with experiences such as anxiety in ways slightly different from how an adult would tackle those but still very recognizable.
I can’t quite decide whether the mystery at the center of the plot is as predictable as I found it, or if it’s just the “not the target audience” case. Regardless, I remained hooked by all the friendship and magic, and overall this has been a heartwarming, exciting read that I would definitely recommend to MG fantasy readers. Especially to kids dealing with anxiety, because I’d sure love to have something like this back when I was one myself!
Content Warnings
Graphic: Panic attacks/disorders and Abandonment
Moderate: Bullying and Injury/Injury detail
The Evolving Truth of Ever-Stronger Will by Maya MacGregor
Oh wow. It’s still early in the year, but I’m already certain this is going to be among my top books of 2025. It’s been such a simultaneously heartbreaking and heartmending experience. I had doubts early on about reading a whole novel in second person, but the author’s style absolutely drew me in. I felt for Will during every little step of their journey, and I’m so happy for the future they’ve won for themself—and also so sad the book is over.
This is a beautiful and relatable exploration of the scars abuse leaves, and how one might go about healing them, and how the type of hypervigilance and self-reliance you develop in traumatic circumstances may sometimes do you a disservice in healthier situations. I loved how human all the characters are, and how they work through the mistakes some of them make. In that regard, the book really felt like a warm hug, subtly telling or rather showing you, “It’s okay to stumble. A mistake is not the end of the world.”
Every part of Will’s arc feels incredibly authentic, and as a whole the book does a great job painting what it’s like to start figuring out your own life once you’re out of an abusive situation. The instinctive mistrust toward everyone with enough power to influence the course of your existence, the shame-tinged joy of getting things for yourself, the slight unreality of it all, the slow, slow tempo of gradually beginning to relax around well-meaning people and letting them in. The fact that it can be easier to open up to someone new who you know shares specific aspects of your identity and history rather than to someone who’s been there all along, but there’s a gap in your life experiences. How everything is no longer that scary, and that alone is enough to cause stress. If I’m feeling nitpicky, I might say that maybe, just maybe, the way everything Will feared turned out to be the opposite of dangerous was a slight overkill. But damn it, we need optimistic stories, especially when they’re stories focused on young marginalized protagonists, and the book as a whole shows clearly that it made sense for Will to fear what might happen ifpolice got involved, the fact that it went okay was largely due to the present of other characters—adults willing to wield their privilege to shield them .
All in all, it was lovely, and I loved everyone in the core cast, and I adore how diverse this book is, the gentle nb/nb love story aspect of it, and all the Dragon Age references.
emotional
hopeful
reflective
sad
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
Your name is Will because that’s what it takes to live among people who hate you for no other reason than that you exist.
Oh wow. It’s still early in the year, but I’m already certain this is going to be among my top books of 2025. It’s been such a simultaneously heartbreaking and heartmending experience. I had doubts early on about reading a whole novel in second person, but the author’s style absolutely drew me in. I felt for Will during every little step of their journey, and I’m so happy for the future they’ve won for themself—and also so sad the book is over.
This is a beautiful and relatable exploration of the scars abuse leaves, and how one might go about healing them, and how the type of hypervigilance and self-reliance you develop in traumatic circumstances may sometimes do you a disservice in healthier situations. I loved how human all the characters are, and how they work through the mistakes some of them make. In that regard, the book really felt like a warm hug, subtly telling or rather showing you, “It’s okay to stumble. A mistake is not the end of the world.”
Every part of Will’s arc feels incredibly authentic, and as a whole the book does a great job painting what it’s like to start figuring out your own life once you’re out of an abusive situation. The instinctive mistrust toward everyone with enough power to influence the course of your existence, the shame-tinged joy of getting things for yourself, the slight unreality of it all, the slow, slow tempo of gradually beginning to relax around well-meaning people and letting them in. The fact that it can be easier to open up to someone new who you know shares specific aspects of your identity and history rather than to someone who’s been there all along, but there’s a gap in your life experiences. How everything is no longer that scary, and that alone is enough to cause stress. If I’m feeling nitpicky, I might say that maybe, just maybe, the way everything Will feared turned out to be the opposite of dangerous was a slight overkill. But damn it, we need optimistic stories, especially when they’re stories focused on young marginalized protagonists, and the book as a whole shows clearly that it made sense for Will to fear what might happen if
All in all, it was lovely, and I loved everyone in the core cast, and I adore how diverse this book is, the gentle nb/nb love story aspect of it, and all the Dragon Age references.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Bullying, Child abuse, Domestic abuse, Emotional abuse, and Death of parent
Moderate: Drug use and Transphobia
Minor: Gun violence
Just Kids by Patti Smith
emotional
inspiring
reflective
sad
medium-paced
4.75
“I stand naked when I draw. God holds my hand and we sing together.”
This memoir pulled me in from the first page with wonderful prose, as empathetic and musical as Patti Smith’s lyrics and poetry, and then kept my attention with a mixture of personal recollections, reminiscence on the nature of art, and an assortment of anecdotes that illustrate the epoch. At times, I felt a little lost when I didn’t immediately recognize a name or somesuch; this is definitely a book aimed at someone who already has an idea of the musical and art scene of the 70s, and while I’m decently familiar with the music parts, sometimes I had to stop reading and pull up Google.
Robert Mapplethorpe feels like the true main character, even when he isn’t directly appearing on the page. I don’t think I really fell under the charm of his personality, no matter how much the narrative tried to pull me under and how much I didn’t mind succumbing. But I really liked the depiction of the bond he and Patti shared, how tightly entwined their lives remained even as their relationship changed from lovers to friends to something family-like in ways that defy strict categorization. I think what they shared is as close as it gets to finding a soulmate.
I really enjoyed how the book was structured, the narrative kind of growing denser and more expansive as it progressed. First we get the daily existence of someone striving to find something *more*, something that will give their life meaning. Then comes the part about the young starving artists that feels both freeing and a tiny bit claustrophobic, that endless juxtaposition of unleashed creativity and struggling in small apartments with limited funds. And then by the time we get close to the Chelsea Hotel times, more and more actors keep entering the stage, and the kaleidoscope of names and events grows and grows, sweeping you away.
When it comes to flaws, I guess I didn’t really like how much the author put Robert on the pedestal. She didn’t exactly shy away from depicting his flaws, but she always hurried to make excuses for him or to downplay the extent of the objectively shitty things he did, likeinitiating sex when he knew he had an actively symptomatic STI . I can’t exactly fault her for it, given how important this man was for her and how much his loss hurt her. It’s kind of hard to be critical of someone in these circumstances! But still, I think the reason he was borderline my least favorite person to read about here was that the writing was pushing me to adore him no matter what, and I got kind of contrary.
This memoir pulled me in from the first page with wonderful prose, as empathetic and musical as Patti Smith’s lyrics and poetry, and then kept my attention with a mixture of personal recollections, reminiscence on the nature of art, and an assortment of anecdotes that illustrate the epoch. At times, I felt a little lost when I didn’t immediately recognize a name or somesuch; this is definitely a book aimed at someone who already has an idea of the musical and art scene of the 70s, and while I’m decently familiar with the music parts, sometimes I had to stop reading and pull up Google.
Robert Mapplethorpe feels like the true main character, even when he isn’t directly appearing on the page. I don’t think I really fell under the charm of his personality, no matter how much the narrative tried to pull me under and how much I didn’t mind succumbing. But I really liked the depiction of the bond he and Patti shared, how tightly entwined their lives remained even as their relationship changed from lovers to friends to something family-like in ways that defy strict categorization. I think what they shared is as close as it gets to finding a soulmate.
I really enjoyed how the book was structured, the narrative kind of growing denser and more expansive as it progressed. First we get the daily existence of someone striving to find something *more*, something that will give their life meaning. Then comes the part about the young starving artists that feels both freeing and a tiny bit claustrophobic, that endless juxtaposition of unleashed creativity and struggling in small apartments with limited funds. And then by the time we get close to the Chelsea Hotel times, more and more actors keep entering the stage, and the kaleidoscope of names and events grows and grows, sweeping you away.
When it comes to flaws, I guess I didn’t really like how much the author put Robert on the pedestal. She didn’t exactly shy away from depicting his flaws, but she always hurried to make excuses for him or to downplay the extent of the objectively shitty things he did, like
Content Warnings
Graphic: Chronic illness, Death, Drug use, and Alcohol
Moderate: Homophobia, Medical content, and Grief
Minor: Pregnancy
Notorious Sorcerer by Davinia Evans
This book and I had a bit of a rocky start. Normally, I really appreciate beginnings like it has: the kind where instead of easing you into the setting, the author just starts off describing/explaining exactly as much as the POV character native to the setting would care to linger on and trusts the reader to make sense of things as they go along. I find this approach fun and immersive, and I don’t mind feeling a little lost for the first few pages. In this case, though, I felt lost a bit longer than was comfortable. I think it was because of the nature of the events the first chapter or two focuses on. It’s not very clear which parts are the baseline “normal” here, which events stand out but aren’t wholly unexpected for characters in these positions, and which parts are completely out of the ordinary—because the ordinary hasn’t been established yet. Without having that understanding, I couldn’t judge the stakes or fully grasp the significance of the characters’ choices.
Gradually, though, things got a lot more exciting, especially due to more moving around the very exciting city and more exposure to the magic system that is definitely the strongest point of the book. It’s a hard magic system, and it’s kind of layered in that sense: there is a specific rigid set of rules, there is the MC who intuitively breaks some of them, and then there are the actual rules behind the rules that he does in fact intuitively follow. I really enjoyed exploring the whole magical aspect of the world, both the acts of alchemy and the interactions with other dimensions with all their denizens and alchemical ingredients and wonders. I also really enjoyed the interactions between the magic and the society structure/class issues. There were a bunch of small side plot threads focused on it all that were really interesting to follow.
The characters were likable enough, but kind of lacked depth. They did have clear goals and mostly clear motivations, but I felt like a lot of the time their “screen time” was more built around what they can do/what skills they possess rather than who they are and what’s important to them. My favorite is definitely Zagiri; her arc is a bit stereotypical, but she’s got a really fun voice and personality and I really enjoyed hanging out with her. Siyon, the MC, initially hooked me with his thirst for knowledge that he couldn’t realize because of the social constraints, but as the story progressed, I couldn’t fully retain my interest in him as a fictional person as he felt more like a plot devise all too often.
In big part, that’s because the plot events escalated so quickly. On one hand, the events were really exciting and, vibes-vise, kind of reminded me of the Tarot Sequence books that I love very much. On the other hand, Rune from the Tarot Sequence starts off in a position where it’s completely understandable why he’d go toe to toe with the movers and shakers of his world. With Siyon, all those high-octane plot points with the Demon Queen and such didn’t feel like such a natural progression of events. Perhaps if the journey he undertakes here was spread over two-three books, the stakes escalated more gradually, etc, there would be less sense of disconnect. That would also provide more opportunities to explore the setting with that awesome magic system, because really, with the turns the plot takes here, it feels like we’ve jumped straight from the basics to the very top, missing out on all the cool bits in the middle.
adventurous
challenging
fast-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
3.5
I’m the best practitioner you’ve never heard of.
This book and I had a bit of a rocky start. Normally, I really appreciate beginnings like it has: the kind where instead of easing you into the setting, the author just starts off describing/explaining exactly as much as the POV character native to the setting would care to linger on and trusts the reader to make sense of things as they go along. I find this approach fun and immersive, and I don’t mind feeling a little lost for the first few pages. In this case, though, I felt lost a bit longer than was comfortable. I think it was because of the nature of the events the first chapter or two focuses on. It’s not very clear which parts are the baseline “normal” here, which events stand out but aren’t wholly unexpected for characters in these positions, and which parts are completely out of the ordinary—because the ordinary hasn’t been established yet. Without having that understanding, I couldn’t judge the stakes or fully grasp the significance of the characters’ choices.
Gradually, though, things got a lot more exciting, especially due to more moving around the very exciting city and more exposure to the magic system that is definitely the strongest point of the book. It’s a hard magic system, and it’s kind of layered in that sense: there is a specific rigid set of rules, there is the MC who intuitively breaks some of them, and then there are the actual rules behind the rules that he does in fact intuitively follow. I really enjoyed exploring the whole magical aspect of the world, both the acts of alchemy and the interactions with other dimensions with all their denizens and alchemical ingredients and wonders. I also really enjoyed the interactions between the magic and the society structure/class issues. There were a bunch of small side plot threads focused on it all that were really interesting to follow.
The characters were likable enough, but kind of lacked depth. They did have clear goals and mostly clear motivations, but I felt like a lot of the time their “screen time” was more built around what they can do/what skills they possess rather than who they are and what’s important to them. My favorite is definitely Zagiri; her arc is a bit stereotypical, but she’s got a really fun voice and personality and I really enjoyed hanging out with her. Siyon, the MC, initially hooked me with his thirst for knowledge that he couldn’t realize because of the social constraints, but as the story progressed, I couldn’t fully retain my interest in him as a fictional person as he felt more like a plot devise all too often.
In big part, that’s because the plot events escalated so quickly. On one hand, the events were really exciting and, vibes-vise, kind of reminded me of the Tarot Sequence books that I love very much. On the other hand, Rune from the Tarot Sequence starts off in a position where it’s completely understandable why he’d go toe to toe with the movers and shakers of his world. With Siyon, all those high-octane plot points with the Demon Queen and such didn’t feel like such a natural progression of events. Perhaps if the journey he undertakes here was spread over two-three books, the stakes escalated more gradually, etc, there would be less sense of disconnect. That would also provide more opportunities to explore the setting with that awesome magic system, because really, with the turns the plot takes here, it feels like we’ve jumped straight from the basics to the very top, missing out on all the cool bits in the middle.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Confinement, Death, Violence, Police brutality, Fire/Fire injury, Injury/Injury detail, and Classism
Moderate: Child abuse
Minor: Infidelity
Redshirts by John Scalzi
I suspect I would have enjoyed this one even more if I were a Trekkie (I know enough of Star Trek to grasp the core concepts, but I’ve always been more of a Babylon 5 person with a bit of Farscape on the side). As it was, I definitely found it easy to grasp the core concepts, but I kept feeling, especially in the latter half of the story, that there might be a lot of references that I was missing out on. Or maybe i was overthinking. That’s possible, too.
Anyway, even with limited knowledge of the source of satire, I did enjoy it a lot. A lot of the dialogue is simply priceless—I kept chuckling around as I read, even though I wouldn’t call the writing outright comical. Rather, wry and quirky, and that’s the kind of humor that often gets me the most when done well. I also really liked how most of it was structured (except for the parts I lowkey hated—more on that later). There was this sly, steady build-up to the big meta revelation that made me completely forget what was coming even though I was aware of this aspect of the book going in. I was just so caught up in the weirdness of the ship and all the quirkiness and how the characters interacted. The prose style took a tiny bit of getting used to, but overall, the story pulled me in fast. The mix of adventure, mystery, and that “story about a story” aspect never stopped being entertaining.
My one gripe with the book is the ending.I kind of wish it ended with chapter 23, but without its last paragraph. Even the full version of chapter 23 wouldn’t be *too* bad. I mean, it would be a truly terrible wtf moment, but it would also be kind of in line with the metafiction part of it all, and at least it would be a memorable last paragraph. But the entire (tiny) chapter 24 being basically AHAHA JUST KIDDING was annoying and created a weird sense of ambiguity—I now legit have no idea how it ended, if I should trust that one paragraph or the JUST KIDDING chapter, and it frustrates me. And the three codas that came afterward, while one of them did contain some fun musings about writer’s block and the like, added next to nothing to the story itself.
All in all, up until the very ending I was thoroughly entertained, and I’m definitely seeing why my friends kept insisting I read something by John Scalzi. His brand of wit appeals to me a lot, and I intend to pick up more of his works later in the year.
adventurous
funny
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? It's complicated
- Flaws of characters a main focus? No
4.0
“What we’ve been told,” Collins said, “is that as the flagship of the Dub U, the Intrepid takes on a larger share of sensitive diplomatic, military and research missions than any other ship in the fleet. Because of that, there is commensurate increase of risk, and thus a statistically larger chance crew lives will be lost. It’s part of the risk of such a high-profile posting.”
“In other words, crew deaths are a feature, not a bug,” Cassaway said, dryly.
I suspect I would have enjoyed this one even more if I were a Trekkie (I know enough of Star Trek to grasp the core concepts, but I’ve always been more of a Babylon 5 person with a bit of Farscape on the side). As it was, I definitely found it easy to grasp the core concepts, but I kept feeling, especially in the latter half of the story, that there might be a lot of references that I was missing out on. Or maybe i was overthinking. That’s possible, too.
Anyway, even with limited knowledge of the source of satire, I did enjoy it a lot. A lot of the dialogue is simply priceless—I kept chuckling around as I read, even though I wouldn’t call the writing outright comical. Rather, wry and quirky, and that’s the kind of humor that often gets me the most when done well. I also really liked how most of it was structured (except for the parts I lowkey hated—more on that later). There was this sly, steady build-up to the big meta revelation that made me completely forget what was coming even though I was aware of this aspect of the book going in. I was just so caught up in the weirdness of the ship and all the quirkiness and how the characters interacted. The prose style took a tiny bit of getting used to, but overall, the story pulled me in fast. The mix of adventure, mystery, and that “story about a story” aspect never stopped being entertaining.
My one gripe with the book is the ending.
All in all, up until the very ending I was thoroughly entertained, and I’m definitely seeing why my friends kept insisting I read something by John Scalzi. His brand of wit appeals to me a lot, and I intend to pick up more of his works later in the year.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Gun violence, Blood, and Grief
Moderate: Death, Gore, and Injury/Injury detail