Vassa in the Night

Vassa in the Night

By Sarah Porter

 

When Vassa’s stepsister sends her out to buy lightbulbs in the middle of the night, she knows it could easily become a suicide mission. Babs Yagg, the owner of the local convenience store, has a policy of beheading shoplifters―and sometimes innocent shoppers as well.

But Vassa has a bit of luck hidden in her pocket, a gift from her dead mother. Erg is a tough-talking wooden doll with sticky fingers, a bottomless stomach, and ferocious cunning. With Erg’s help, Vassa just might be able to break the witch’s curse and free her Brooklyn neighborhood. But Babs won’t be playing fair….

I really wanted to like this one, but almost from the beginning I found myself disenchanted with it.  Part of my problem I think, is that the author assumes more familiarity with the original Russian folk tale than I had.  Even though we had flashbacks to Vassa's mother, father, Babs/Bea's relationship and Picnic and Pangolin, none of them really explained what was going on with the BY franchises, why Babs and Bea weren't friends (or how they'd become friends in the first place, and what kinds of powers each had), or how Vassa fit into the continuation of these events from the past.  Erg, the doll, tied Vassa to the magical world, but also, Erg was where Vassa put her own feelings in when her mother died? So, then, if the Erg feelings are absorbed back into Vassa, does that mean that Vassa is no longer drawn to the magical world? Because that's the reverse of how those things usually work: you have to become a complete person before your magic works correctly is a time-honored trope of the genre.  And for good reason!  It makes sense, unlike this book.

Characters just float in and out of the book, and frequently we'll be in the middle of a scene just to cut away and be abruptly transferred to a "night/dream" sequence and never really resolve or wrap up the first scene.  It was very disjointed, and didn't feel intentional.  If it was intentional, great, I hated it.

I also objected to the dialogue and characterization.  Is this chick fifteen? Why does she sound so stilted when talking to people? Why is she so casual about the decapitated people in the bodega parking lot (why is everyone so casual about the decapitated people in the parking lot)? Apparently magic is acknowledged and recognized in this world, but when obviously bad magic is extending night-time and a local franchise is murdering people, uh, the reaction is to watch more tv? Okay, fine, I guess.  But seriously, everyone's frankly ho-hum attitude is a really weird choice to make for the author.  It's like, how serious is this problem? Clearly no one else cares, so why should we?  Even to the point that teenagers are playing games with the store where the potential risk is getting their head (or other parts) cut off?  Everyone's decisions and thought processes in this book are just...confusing.  In a bad way.  

Dexter and Sinister, the disembodied hands for example.  Are they unwilling agents of Babs Yagg? Cooperative villains? Dexter has a change of heart and decides to help Vassa and get itself killed in the process for.. what reason, exactly? Because Babs is mean to him (again)? Or is it because the plot required it?

And there's a lot of people complaining that Vassa didn't actually do much (or anything) herself to solve the tasks given to her, which is also true.  Vassa's primary purpose was going into the store in the first place, and after that... unclear how she derives any character development since she blacks out a lot and the problem gets solved without her involvement.  And frequently, she creates these problems, by having no damn sense.  She see-saws between unbelievable naivety about her situation and the dangers, and some sort of "inner understanding" of all things.

I think there's the germ of a good book in there, but I was pretty disappointed by this one.

 

Fugitive Telemetry

Fugitive Telemetry

By Martha Wells 

When Murderbot discovers a dead body on Preservation Station, it knows it is going to have to assist station security to determine who the body is (was), how they were killed (that should be relatively straightforward, at least), and why (because apparently that matters to a lot of people―who knew?)

Yes, the unthinkable is about to happen: Murderbot must voluntarily speak to humans!

Again!

Aaaaaaaaaaah, I love the Murderbot series!  I didn't really like the novel as much, (thought that it took too long to get started, needed more humor and less world-building) but I find her novellas to be just right - no slow parts, just a depressed, formerly murderous robot, the humans it helps despite their overwhelming feelings, and the other bots that alternatively befriend or try to kill Murderbot (I liken this to the scene in The Princess Diaries (there's a throwback!) where they're talking about two kinds of women in James Bond movies: the sexy blondes who have sex with James Bond and the sexy brunettes who try to kill James Bond).

This one is a bit more self-contained that the previous ones, which build on each other - I guess this is supposed to be set in between two earlier books, so Wells had to be more limited in that respect.  I don't think that's a downside, as I said above, I like the episodic nature of the installments, and honestly I would probably read and thoroughly enjoy four or five more CSI/Murderbot crossover novellas.  

Critiques: not enough references to soap operas; needed more slapstick humor, like the early scene where the detective is questioning Murderbot's timeframe for the death and then the tech comes in with the exact same information and the detective rolls their eyes and the tech is sad no one is excited. I find this book very visually easy to picture in my mind grapes.  

Good parts: Murderbot needs a name-tag! Jollybaby is an absolute unit!  Historical ship lifeboats! Nervous chatty people in interrogation rooms! 

Anyway, two thumbs up, highly recommend, fine holiday fun.

Ten Second Reviews

Storybook Style: America's Whimsical Homes of the Twenties

By Arrol Gellner

Storybook Style, the rambunctious evocation of medieval Europe in American housing, was born in the early 1920s and almost forgotten by the late 1930s. It took its inspiration from the Hollywood sets that enthralled Americans of the period and that still appeal to our jaded modern eye. Half timbered and turreted, pinnacled and portcullised, these houses owed their fanciful bravura to architects and builders with theatrical flair, fine craftsmanship, and humor. In Storybook Style, architectural information enhances the stunning color pictures by Bungalow and Painted Ladies photographer Doug Keister to impart a wealth of information and enjoyment.

So this was a little off the beaten path, in the sense that it's an architectural coffee table book but I checked it out because of an interview with the creator of McMansion Hell, which I enjoy perusing quite a bit.  I'd never heard of Storybook Style, but I was immediately charmed.  

The problem with Storybook Style is that it is both expensive to keep up and not well suited to mass production, so there aren't so many examples and pictures that I would have liked.  Don't get me wrong, there's like, eight chapters, but each of them spends a lot of time on just two or three houses, and in comparison with, for example, bungalow books, which are dense with historical information and pictures, this felt much more minimal.  I do like pictures the most though, since I'm not an architectural student, so I liked that the ratio of pictures to text was so high, I just wanted more and more pictures.  More fantastical creations!

That being said, Storybook houses are pretty great, and we should have more of them.  I think I may be able to convince my husband to convert our front door into a faux-medieval style one, and from then on it's just a slippery slope to mythical creature iron sconces, cobblestone paths and a hedge maze!

The Witch Boy

By Molly Ostertag

In thirteen-year-old Aster's family, all the girls are raised to be witches, while boys grow up to be shapeshifters. Anyone who dares cross those lines is exiled. Unfortunately for Aster, he still hasn't shifted ... and he's still fascinated by witchery, no matter how forbidden it might be. When a mysterious danger threatens the other boys, Aster knows he can help -- as a witch. It will take the encouragement of a new friend, the non-magical and non-conforming Charlie, to convince Aster to try practicing his skills. And it will require even more courage to save his family... and be truly himself.

I don't know why so many of my recent books have witches and wizards in the titles, although I do like a good fantasy!  This one, eh, not worth the time.  It's a graphic novel, and geared towards (I assume) younger readers, like middle-grade, given the style, characters, and plot.  

It felt pretty simplistic to me, that Aster wants to break out of the gender-specific roles he's been assigned, only to discover that he can help, if he uses his "women's" magic, and the bad guy turns out to be (SPOILER!) a similarly situated man who was denied the right to use women's magic and turned to the dark side as a result.  Nothing too ground-breaking, although I guess it's fine to re-hash older tropes in new formats for new readers.

Honestly? Fairly forgettable for me. 

Normal People

Normal People

By Sally Rooney

Connell and Marianne grew up in the same small town, but the similarities end there. At school, Connell is popular and well liked, while Marianne is a loner. But when the two strike up a conversation—awkward but electrifying—something life changing begins.

A year later, they’re both studying at Trinity College in Dublin. Marianne has found her feet in a new social world while Connell hangs at the sidelines, shy and uncertain. Throughout their years at university, Marianne and Connell circle one another, straying toward other people and possibilities but always magnetically, irresistibly drawn back together. And as she veers into self-destruction and he begins to search for meaning elsewhere, each must confront how far they are willing to go to save the other.

There was such an emphasis on "good" versus "bad" - whether or not Marianne or Connell were "nice".  I understand some of that, to a degree, since it's something I struggle with as well - do my interactions with this person make me nicer, how can I be nicer to people - but there was such a focus on it, it was hard to tell if it was coming from the author or the characters.   There's a point at the end where Marianne thinks about how Connell's life has been shaped by the first fateful decision to sleep together - where he went to school, how he dates people, his attitude - and marvels at the impact they have had on each other.  That's the beauty of Normal People, to narrow in on that piece of astonishing truth. 

One thing that did drive me crazy though: the book is basically shorter sections, generally taking place weeks or months apart, and switching viewpoints between Marianne and Connell.  We'd end one, and then pick up the next, usually halfway through a scene, and then the narrator would flashback at some point to what happened since the last section.  For example, Marianne and Connell would sleep together, and then the next section be them breaking up, and we'd have to flashback to see what happened in the interim.  It's fine to do it, but it felt way overused and got pretty stale by the end. I'd be like, ho hum, here we go again, waiting to see how things got fucked up this time.    

For all that I've been complaining about these contemporary romances involving people jumping into long term commitment, Normal People sure was the antidote to that! The push and pull of the relationship went on for years.  I think though, it was a good pace - nothing felt out of character or surprising, although, I am going to complain that once again, we miss out of some of the most important character development by skipping through long swathes of time towards the end of the book - in this case, both Connell's anxiety/depression treatment, and Marianne's masochistic sex habits.  The ending is optimistic and hopeful, with Marianne basically telling Connell that they'll come together and you do believe her (at least, I did) but it's built on this idea that both Connell and Marianne have matured and know themselves well enough to avoid their earlier pitfalls, and honestly, I'm not sure that foundation is supported enough since we've effectively glossed over both of their "recoveries".  

It's a nice enough book, not going to become a favorite of mine, but well-written.  Now that some time has passed since I finished it, I think my main feeling of the book looking back is "wistful" although that's not something I necessarily thought of while I was in the midst of reading it.  I ended up taking some time off reading "serious" fiction for awhile after this one, I felt like I just needed more lightweight books to lift my serotonin, although, as always, it's the thought provoking and difficult books that inspire me to read more.  Normal People does a good job of narrowing in on a specific phase of some people's lives - let's call it the "college years" - where each relationship becomes a building block of your adulthood and decisions feel like they echo down the rest of your life, and while all this is going on, you make stupid decisions because communication is a learned skill and most people can't do it very well when they're in their early 20s.  A lot of the first half of the book is like that - hurt feelings and missteps because one of them assumes the other's intent or some such, and that felt realistic for the most part, but I can also see where readers might lose patience with characters whose heads are basically up their own butts pretty often.  Perhaps that's why we feel optimistic at the end of the book even though (as I said above) I don't think Rooney covers enough of the critical turning point for readers to believe in the ability of Connell and Marianne to handle a relationship well: it's because we have been there ourselves, and we have done it successfully. 

In a Holidaze

In a Holidaze

By Christina Lauren

It’s the most wonderful time of the year…but not for Maelyn Jones. She’s living with her parents, hates her going-nowhere job, and has just made a romantic error of epic proportions.

But perhaps worst of all, this is the last Christmas Mae will be at her favorite place in the world—the snowy Utah cabin where she and her family have spent every holiday since she was born, along with two other beloved families. Mentally melting down as she drives away from the cabin for the final time, Mae throws out what she thinks is a simple plea to the universe: Please. Show me what will make me happy.

The next thing she knows, tires screech and metal collides, everything goes black. But when Mae gasps awake…she’s on an airplane bound for Utah, where she begins the same holiday all over again. With one hilarious disaster after another sending her back to the plane, Mae must figure out how to break free of the strange time loop—and finally get her true love under the mistletoe.

I had a lot of trouble getting into this one, mostly because I wasn't entirely sure if the authors intended us to think that Mae and Andrew were endgame, or if it was supposed to be Mae and Theo.  Look, she made out with Theo in the first chapter, and like, every two or three chapters, someone would say that Theo's been pining after her.  Which, I know, is not an obligation for Mae to end up with him.  But Mae was pining after Andrew, and they ended up together, so what's different? So I spent a lot of time basically waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Without that suspense, I suspect I wouldn't have been so rapt in the book.  It was fine, but had none of the bite that I liked so much from The Unhoneymooners and now I guess I'm just going to chalk that one up as an anomaly, since I haven't really gotten the same enjoyable feel from their others.  

So basically Mae realizes she's in a time loop, decides that it's a sign she's meant to be with Andrew, confesses her feelings to him, they have sex a few times, she tells him she made out with his brother in another time, they fight and make up and everyone forgets (or politely ignores) what a nutcase she was that week when she was insisting she was in a time loop and then six months later she and Andrew get engaged.  I'm like that blinking guy gif.  Whoa, nelly! I mean, maybe you have known each other for the last twenty five years, but I think you could afford to wait more than two months before deciding to get hitched (the proposal took six months, but apparently Andrew asked for permission on their two month anniversary, which isn't eyebrow-raising AT ALL - we don't need to end romances on marriage or babies, it's fine if we take more than a few months to determine if this relationship is going to go the distance).  

I found myself tired of all the traditions - snowman making, tree buying, scavenger hunting, and it wasn't even my twenty-fifth time of doing them.  Maybe it's because I'm not reading this in December, but I was way over the Christmas feeling. 

The Happy Ever After Playlist

The Happy Ever After Playlist

By Abby Jimenez

Two years after losing her fiancé, Sloan Monroe still can't seem to get her life back on track. But one trouble-making pup with a "take me home" look in his eyes is about to change everything. With her new pet by her side, Sloan finally starts to feel more like herself. Then, after weeks of unanswered texts, Tucker's owner reaches out. He's a musician on tour in Australia. And bottom line: He wants Tucker back.

 

Well, Sloan's not about to give up her dog without a fight. But what if this Jason guy really loves Tucker? As their flirty texts turn into long calls, Sloan can't deny a connection. Jason is hot and nice and funny. There's no telling what could happen when they meet in person. The question is: With his music career on the rise, how long will Jason really stick around? And is it possible for Sloan to survive another heartbreak?

 

 I read the first book in this "series", The Friend Zone and really disliked it.  I thought the whole "infertile woman magically makes baby" just completely took the point of that book and wrenched its head off like a daisy.  Up to that point, it was fine, but as of that moment, I basically walked away from it.  To the extent that in this book, haha, I didn't actually remember that these were the same characters here as were in the The Friend Zone, and Sloan's fiance died in that book (in service to the plot device of "life is short, so let's bone").  Which is all to the better, since if I'd known that, I probably wouldn't have picked this one up.

But I did like it!  Well enough, at least.  I found both Sloan and Jason to be kind of unrelatable - Sloan is grief-stricken, yes, but she and Jason both go from 0 to 100 in basically two weeks: from online chatting to deciding to sell your house and travel the road with this guy?  I liked the part where they flirted and texted about the dog, but then as soon as Jason's back on the same continent, they basically ignore the dog and become that couple that drives everyone crazy because they insist on spending every single minute together being self-satisfied with how much in love they are.  That makes it sound like I hated the second part of the book, and I honestly didn't but I also didn't feel that bad when they ran into trouble and Jason decided that he had to sacrifice the relationship so Sloan would take care of herself, and the only way to break up would be by saying he was cheating on her.  That is the sign of people who revel in drama.  It was a little exhausting to read.  And now I'm sort of talking myself out of liking the book! Just break up!  This is not some Bronte novel where the heroine will die of consumption because you left her!  Why the need to salt the earth??

 

All I can say is that Sloan and Jason are characters that you do want nice things for - they both seem decent and hardworking people, who are total a-holes, but by golly, would I be so over them if I was a friend.  I wiped most of Kristen's character out of my mind after The Friend Zone but she's so pushy here, trying to get Sloan to bang her way out of grief that Sloan seems downright levelheaded by comparison.   And this is a person who, as I mentioned before, up and sells her house to tour with a musician after several weeks of dating.  

And not for nothing, but whatever happened to Tucker, the dog? He's basically dropped like a hot potato, and frankly, the explanation for how/why he jumped into Sloan's sun roof ("he's very energetic") was so thin it was transparent.  Justice for Tucker!  

Anyway, obviously this was a vast improvement on The Friend Zone, but still not something I'm planning to return to, nor do I expect to pick up the third, unless, as happened here, I forget about the earlier books and am persuaded by overwhelmingly positive reviews. 

The Survivors

The Survivors

By Jane Harper

Kieran Elliott's life changed forever on the day a reckless mistake led to devastating consequences.

The guilt that still haunts him resurfaces during a visit with his young family to the small coastal community he once called home.

Kieran's parents are struggling in a town where fortunes are forged by the sea. Between them all is his absent brother, Finn.

When a body is discovered on the beach, long-held secrets threaten to emerge. A sunken wreck, a missing girl, and questions that have never washed away...

You all know I'm a big Jane Harper fan, and I was very excited about this one.  It felt a little different from her others, not so much because of the Tasmania setting, which does for the sea what her other books do for the outback and the jungle, but more because the main character wasn't isolated. 

As in several of her other books, the main character is coming back to town after being semi-ostracized for a youthful incident which led to someone's death.  Someone else dies and we begin to find out the connections between the two, usually alleviating some, if not all, of the guilt the main character felt at the start.  It was interesting to see here how the addition of the partner and baby made Kieran feel less likely to be killed, or have some sort of attack or something.  It just felt more secure, both in their attitude about what happened, but also in their future.  A baby can do that for you, I guess.  We see that explicitly in the book, too, when Kieran confronts the killer and the killer asks him how he overcame the guilt he had, and Kieran kind of goes, "I found something else to live for" referring to his baby and baby mama. 

I know that's kind of vague, but it really makes the book feel less of a "thriller" and more of a slow, easy mystery read.  There's very little concern that the main character will end up meeting a nefarious end.  And, like her other books, by the end the main character is absolved, not only of the recent death, but of their past guilt as well.  It's very explicit here, with repeated references to "The Survivors" a trio of monuments on the rocks which are meant to symbolize survivors of an earlier shipwreck.  They pop up repeatedly though, and the idea of survivor's guilt is heavy, not only with Kieran's youthful mistake in staying too late at the caves and requiring the ill-fated assistance, but also in the sense of those who were able to leave town and those who aren't, who are semi-captive to a fading locale, wholly dependent on tourists and dying out.  Kieran's father, who has dementia, and his mother, who is packing the house up in preparation for his father's departure, are also emblematic of the survivor's phenomenon, both wrapped up in the past in their own ways. 

Harper does a masterful job with the setting as usual.  Like her others, the location and elements are another character (gosh, how trite, but it's true) and the sea is a looming presence over everyone.  I would say that I still prefer The Dry  of all her books, but this was a good addition to her catalogue.  

A Girl of the Limberlost

A Girl of the Limberlost

By Gene Stratton-Porter

Set amid Indiana's vast Limberlost Swamp around 1909, this treasured children's classic mixes astute observations on nature with the struggles of growing up in the early 20th century. A smart, ambitious girl, Elnora lives in the dwindling wetland with her mother and pays for school by collecting local moth specimens to sell to naturalists. Harassed by her mother and scorned by her peers, Elnora Comstock finds solace in natural beauty along with friendship, independence, and romance.

Well, if you're looking for the spiritual kin of L.M. Montgomery, you've found her.  This had a lot of the same hallmarks many of Montgomery's books do (not necessarily the Anne of Green Gables series, but a lot of her others): fiercely proud, independent women, some of them disappointed in love and taking it out on other people, friendly farm neighbors, rich benefactors, "mean" city people who actually love the country person's bold and simple way of life and speaking, etc., etc. I was reminded, reading this, about a recent article that reframed our country's political divide not as one between conservative and liberal, but between rural and urban, and called out all of this literature and media which gave rise to the myth of the rural pure and urban suspect.  This book would certainly add to that myth (although I doubt it's widely read enough to actually affect most voters).

We start out with Elnora walking the three miles to the high school in town, only to find out she needs books and tuition (and probably something other than calico and heavy boots if she doesn't want to stick out like a sore thumb).  Her mother, who is an ENORMOUS BITCH, by the way, knew all of this, but wanted Elnora to be defeated by the experience and give up.  Instead, Elnora sells some bugs and this farm couple help her out, since both their own daughters died in infancy.  We end up following Elnora as she (and her farm "family") charms the local girls and succeeds wildly in school, befriends a young, demanding boy whose alcoholic father dies conveniently timed so that the farm neighbors can adopt him, deals with her awful mother, who is a huge asshole until she finds out her husband died while cheating on her and suddenly about-turns into a caring woman and no one holds a grudge for the last twenty years of abuse, and then a recovering rich boy/Chicago lawyer comes to the swamp for health purposes and calls her "unspoiled" which we all know is code for "going to leave my fiance for you". 

So, yes, maybe I sound dismissive, but I really loved (and love) my LM Montgomery books, and even if this feels like a version of one of her books with about 1000% more bugs and 75% more wooden characters, I found it very readable. It does skip around in time, improbably, and is sort of vignette-y (although we spend a good chunk of time on Elnora's first week at school and her romance with Phillip), and as I mentioned, the characters don't really "develop" with the sole exception of Edith, Phillip's erstwhile fiance, who (somewhat understandably) throws a fit at their engagement party when he abruptly leaves so he can catch a moth for Elnora, and then compounds her sins by going down to the Limberlost and implying Phillip is hers for the taking anytime, so you know she's going to get her comeuppance by the end of the book, and she does, not only giving up on Phillip, but actually being gracious to Elnora and giving her an elusive moth, which is how you know Elnora's innate good character and moral values have finally subdued every possible person she's ever met. 

Well, and NOW I find out that apparently this is a sequel of sorts to Freckles, which goes a long way to explaining who the hell HE is, and why we're never given any information about what his connection is to the moths, the swamp, or Eleanora, aside from leaving her all these valuable pieces. This becomes more pertinent at the end of the book, when Elnora goes to stay with Freckles and his family when she's waiting for Phillip to make up his mind about whether he's really interested in marrying her.  This also sort of explains the mentioned-but-never-really-resolved storyline of the band of criminals who use the swamp for their midnight expeditions (and spy on Elnora through the window, DAMN that creepy mess was just sort of glossed over!) and how the Bird Woman, Swamp Angel, and Freckles all know each other.

Overall, the plot feels a bit thin, and the characters are not much thicker, with the sole exception of Elnora's mother who does a complete 180, but if you're looking for books about moths, you've come to the right place.  Ironically, it was published just as the Limberlost was drained, although it has since been reclaimed for wetlands. 

Beach Read

Beach Read

By Emily Henry

Augustus Everett is an acclaimed author of literary fiction. January Andrews writes bestselling romance. When she pens a happily ever after, he kills off his entire cast.

They're polar opposites.

In fact, the only thing they have in common is that for the next three months, they're living in neighboring beach houses, broke, and bogged down with writer's block.

Until, one hazy evening, one thing leads to another and they strike a deal designed to force them out of their creative ruts: Augustus will spend the summer writing something happy, and January will pen the next Great American Novel. She'll take him on field trips worthy of any rom-com montage, and he'll take her to interview surviving members of a backwoods death cult (obviously). Everyone will finish a book and no one will fall in love. Really.

Yet again, I was misled by a blurb and a cover.  Not that I mind! I actually liked the book this was more than the book I thought it would be (does that make sense? I was unsure about even reserving the book I thought it would be on my hold list).  But the jacket implies a frothy meet cute about two writers falling in love, whereas it's actually about two writers falling in love, but they've met before, and also both of them really need therapy. Now that I say that, I can see why they didn't go for that on the blurb.

We meet January holed up in a house in Michigan, which happens to be the previously unsuspected second home of her father who'd been having an affair.  Her struggles with that information (disclosed at his funeral, no less) are probably also the reason she can't write her next romance novel. Meanwhile, her new neighbor turns out to be an old college acquaintance from the same writing program, also struggling with writer's block about his next ("literary") novel.  We find out partway through that he's in the midst of a divorce, not to mention dealing with his traumatic childhood.

What with one thing and another, they decide to take each other out on expeditions to get the other out of their comfort zone (Gus takes January to interview previous cult members, January takes Gus to the state fair, basically).   And naturally, we find out Gus actually kind of pined for January when they were in school together - it's sweet.  Anyway, I thought it would be a lot more treacly than it was.  And honestly, there was a bunch more writing going on than I assumed there would be - ha, it feels like half the time, the characters' jobs are just background noise, but here they're front and center.  

It was very much not a "loll around on the beach and trade sunscreen tips while flirting" but more of a "you tell me what's bothering you and I'll tell you what's bothering me, and maybe we can both move past it" kind of book, and I liked that.  It felt very Midwestern summer (humidity and storms, Fourth of July pool parties, etc) and the romance between the two doesn't feel forced or shallow.  It probably helps that the book does take place over several months, and you do get that feeling of time passing (albeit hazily).  

I agree with other reviewers that the secondary characters are minimally fleshed out, but who needs secondary characters, anyway?  This is the rare "romance" book where I actually found myself highlighting quotes (for example, one about the enjoyment of reading) that I found particularly profound/poignant.  That was a rare quality, for me, and even if we got less lighthearted as the book went on, I still found it to be a good summer read, preferably when it's warm, but raining outside.  I wouldn't call it a beach read, but definitely the thing when your whole day is ahead of you and your only plans are to curl up and listen to the rain with the windows open. 

 

The Mermaid, the Witch, and the Sea

The Mermaid, the Witch, and the Sea

By Maggie Tokuda- Hall

The pirate Florian, born Flora, has always done whatever it takes to survive—including sailing under false flag on the Dove as a marauder, thief, and worse. Lady Evelyn Hasegawa, a highborn Imperial daughter, is on board as well—accompanied by her own casket. But Evelyn’s one-way voyage to an arranged marriage in the Floating Islands is interrupted when the captain and crew show their true colors and enslave their wealthy passengers.

Both Florian and Evelyn have lived their lives by the rules, and whims, of others. But when they fall in love, they decide to take fate into their own hands—no matter the cost.

I liked this quite a bit more than I was anticipating.  I know, why read a book if you don't think you're going to like it? I'll be grossly honest:  the part where Flora/Florian the pirate falls in love with the Lady Evelyn, I was not interested in at all.  But the temptation of the title, The Mermaid, the Witch, and the Sea was too evocative, too enticing for me.  Eventually it wound up on my hold list, and onto my little e-reader.  And in all fairness to myself, whom I know quite well, the romance was the part I enjoyed the least. The mermaid, the witch, and the sea, all came through. And also the feel of the book is much more adult than I think the cover implies.  Don't get me wrong, it's a beautiful cover, but it feels more middle-reader or YA than adult, and I would really push this into an adult fantasy category (which is great, sometimes YA fantasy feels too "easy"). 

So, okay, this island world revolves around the Empire, which is colonizing every island it can, while also dealing with pirates marauding the seas (and drinking illegal mermaid blood) and colonial problems.  There's some loose Japanese influences there, some references to a not-yet-colonized island with dark skinned people, etc.  Evelyn is basically sent off by her parents to marry some up-and-coming soldier on one of the colonies, partly because she's a real disappointment at home (among other reasons, she makes out with her servant and doesn't care about tea service), and partly for reasons that are a complete SHOCK later in the book.  I really disliked Evelyn from the start.  I always find it hard to like characters like that, who are privileged but do nothing except complain about their circumstances (or make really stupid decisions) and yet are well-liked by non-privileged people for unknown reasons, and in this particular case, someone who also puts their servant at risk too, selfishly.  And when Evelyn takes off, her servant's out there crying and getting fired, and Evelyn's like, well, "I wasn't in love with her, she was just a warm body pretty much." Then she ends up on this pirate ship, assumes she'll make friends with everyone, and winds up getting Florian's finger chopped off (spoiler!) because she's mad that Florian doesn't want to hang out with her for ONCE and she insists on going up top, whereupon Florian's desertion is discovered and punished. What a catch!  Although, to be fair, Florian is also lying to her about the fact that they're planning to kidnap and enslave her and sell her as a prostitute. I mean, I'm not sure exactly why Florian likes her, but Tokuda-Hall does a decent job of making me believe that it's not the dumbest decision Florian could make.

But aside from whatever attraction draws them together (which is a little mystifying, I guess, but to each their own) the real juicy parts of the book make up for that weaker link.  The shifting allegiances of the crew members, Florian's very real worry about his alcoholic brother's fate, and the fate of their passengers, the mysterious Lady What's-Her-Name (the mother's friend) who serves a much larger role than initially suspected.  And when the crew does make the switch from cruise to slaver (FINALLY) the action really kicks up - then we get midnight escapes, gun fights, cast aways, witches, Empire-spanning PLOTS, assassins, double agents, spies, and all sorts of fun new characters, or new sides to characters we thought we knew.  I wish the first part hadn't taken up so much time, but I guess it was necessary to get you invested in Florian/Evelyn's relationship.  

Even though we get resolution to the storylines, it's really setting things up for a Book 2: Lady What's-her-name's "servant" from Quark is last seen drifting toward the Red coast, we know the Witch and the Pirate Supreme (which, brief aside: that is one of the dumbest titles I can think of and it really jarred me every time I read it.  Really, Pirate Supreme? Is he/she a pizza? Even Supreme Pirate sounds better.  I don't know why I'm so aggrieved by it, but I AM. Aside over!) are former lovers and will probably end up meeting again (or it's one hell of a Chekhov's Gun), and I assume there's going to be more Empire plots.  So for all that it really is basically an enclosed story, it feels weirdly incomplete. 

I would also classify it among the new(er) strain of fantasy books which make more explicit references to diversity.  Flora/Florian for one (although my first introduction to sex/gender fluidity in fantasy was twenty years ago in the Tamir Trilogy, starting with The Bone Doll's Twin (and which I still need to finish, since it was a series that was incomplete when I started and I never got back to it)), and the many references to various skin/hair tones throughout, not to mention the implicit, then explicit oppression of the Empire, and the by-play with the mermaids.  I didn't find it awkwardly placed, preachy, or distracting, but I assume others may find it so, because some people are never satisfied unless they're dissatisfied.  Also, everyone has different levels of tolerance.

And I don't want to really spoil more here (BUT I WILL), but how good was that reveal that the whole "slaver ship drops off virginal Lady Evelyn to be despoiled" turned out to be an actual plan for invading the Red coast and adding more territory to the Empire thing?!  And like, all these people were in on it!  I loved it.  That's when the book really started coming together for me.  Honestly, I thought it was really well done - things that you ( i.e., "me") never suspected of someone, but also not out of character for them, plus plugging plot holes (like, "why invite the Empire's wrath by doing this to a whole bunch of citizens really brazenly?" and "why wouldn't they take the minimum safety measure of changing the name of boat when they do this?") that I was willing to overlook in the interest of "story" but are so much better now they're not actually holes. 

The Near Witch

The Near Witch

By V. E. Schwab

The Near Witch is only an old story told to frighten children. 

If the wind calls at night, you must not listen. The wind is lonely, and always looking for company. 

There are no strangers in the town of Near. 

These are the truths that Lexi has heard all her life. 

But when an actual stranger, a boy who seems to fade like smoke, appears outside her home on the moor at night, she knows that at least one of these sayings is no longer true. 

The next night, the children of Near start disappearing from their beds, and the mysterious boy falls under suspicion. 

As the hunt for the children intensifies, so does Lexi's need to know about the witch that just might be more than a bedtime story, about the wind that seems to speak through the walls at night, and about the history of this nameless boy. 

I can't help comparing this to AWGTDB, which I read immediately beforehand, and honestly, the comparison was in Wizard's Guide's favor.

In my copy, the author notes that this is an early book of hers, which has been published after she's been successful otherwise, and maybe this is a self-fulfilling perspective, but it felt more derivative and less "established" than her other works. Of course, it also has that trope I hate, of the late teen/early twenties lady protagonist falling for some random "mystery" boy, and then making choices that range anywhere from silly/ill-advised to dangerous/dangerously stupid because she's just DRAWN to him, and no one else understands her and he's just misunderstood and therefore all choices must lead back to protecting this boy from outside forces (like older adults) who aren't as enamored of him.  I just wish there were more natural skepticism in these scenarios.  Romance is not even necessary in most of these cases! You can not want to make out with someone, but still object to the idea of them being summarily executed for a crime they probably didn't commit! Also, maybe it would be easier to convince people he's innocent if you weren't so clearly biased. 

So, a big part of the book was a non-starter for me, which made the rest of it feel very slight and maybe low-stakes?  It was very atmospheric, and the writing is good, but I guess I was never really surprised at any point - yes, her sister will disappear at a point when Lexi is supposed to be watching her (or was warned to watch her), yes, the town elders are all men who don't listen to her/believe her, no, her new boyfriend isn't actually responsible for the child abductions (although how awesome would it have been if he WAS?!), yes, the kids are found alive at the end (how??) and no one dies, except for maybe the bad actor (and sometimes one of the town elders who really deserves it).  It felt a little derivative, which I wouldn't use to describe her other work, so it surprised me - in a bad way. 

Other reviewers talk about it being fairy-tale like, and I guess I would agree with that - it works best if you just go with it and don't worry too much about nuanced characters.  Everyone here has a given role, and they will rigidly adhere to it!

There's an additional story - The Ash-born Boy - in my copy, which goes into Cole's background, and it was okay, although since I found him very uninteresting in Near Witch, I wasn't exactly waiting on bated breath for his backstory. Like I said at the outset, it compared unfavorably to Wizard's Guide, even though maybe the writing/story was more adult, but right now, I want something very different, more pep, less angst!  Even though I generally like heroines who get shit done, a lot of the choices Lexi made bugged me because they felt so antagonistic and needlessly invited pushback.  And I could have done without the romance, which dragged the story down.  I really am noticing that when I finish a book I'm not excited about, it takes forever for me to pick out my next one, which is counter productive, since what I really need after a less than excellent book, is a great book! Right now I'm in the mood for re-reads though, so we'll see what I manage to find.

A Wizard's Guide to Defensive Baking

A Wizard's Guide to Defensive Baking

By T. Kingfisher

Fourteen-year-old Mona isn't like the wizards charged with defending the city. She can't control lightning or speak to water. Her familiar is a sourdough starter and her magic only works on bread. She has a comfortable life in her aunt's bakery making gingerbread men dance.

But Mona's life is turned upside down when she finds a dead body on the bakery floor. An assassin is stalking the streets of Mona's city, preying on magic folk, and it appears that Mona is his next target. And in an embattled city suddenly bereft of wizards, the assassin may be the least of Mona's worries...

 

I enjoyed this - it was a YA-ish/middle readers take on despotic fantasy and a heavy emphasis on baked goods.  I'm in the midst of my next read right now, which is (spoiler alert) crammed full of Atmosphere, but (so far) lacking in Personality, and it's helping me pin down why AWGtDB is so charming.  The story is both dark and light: yes, it does involve murders, and attempted coups and registration of wizard folk for eventual extermination (not to mention battle scenes, and death of friends/companions) but everything is squarely centered around 14 year old Mona, who knows very well that she's too young to have to deal with all this shit, but she hasn't yet become cynical and or angsty about it.  

It's also pretty creative in what you can actually do with bread, and how terrifying an enormous golem who doesn't care if it gets stabbed would be.  It also feels nicely original, or at least not overwhelmingly overdone (bread pun!) although maybe it's because I don't read as much middle-reader as I do YA, so I haven't gotten as much exposure to those tropes.  

It does have a little bit of an uneasy balancing act between younger and more adult themes though, and I'm not sure it's always successful in walking that line.  The book opens with a murder, and Mona is being stalked by the murderer, but it's relatively lighthearted, considering she has to flee her house, hole up in a church, flee guards who are also on the lookout for her after she's accused of treason, and then try and find a way to alert "the people in charge" that wizards are being systematically killed.  In an older book, the people in charge would have been behind the whole thing, but in this one, it's an attempted coup. Again, we get back to that lack of cynicism. It does seem a bit simplistic at times, that all the good people are good (although sometimes ineffectual), and the bad people are bad, with no redeeming qualities.   Is it "realistic"? Maybe, maybe not, but it's nice to visit a world where things get set right in the end. 

Ten Second Reviews

The Worst Best Man

By Mia Sosa

Left-at-the-alter wedding planner Lina is offered an opportunity to join a corporate hotel team that would alleviate her financial and business worries.  But she has to compete for the position - and her partner in the competition is the brother of her ex-fiance.

Man, I hate to be be hard on this one, since it's not that bad, but it also wasn't my jam.  It felt like it had very little substance, even though the set-up is delightfully juicy: left-at-the-altar Lina becomes unwillingly attracted to the brother and best man who convinced her ex to leave? But the book doesn't even stick to that depth, revealing in the final chapters that the brother didn't actually urge the ex to leave Lina, the ex just made it up.  And then the book sort of ends, after detonating that bomb, and I know it's years later, but uh, we're not going to explore what the hell that was all about, I guess.  Ex-fiance is let off the hook with a handwave, even though it makes him an objectively HUGE asshole, and brother is fully redeemed, even though honestly, he didn't need to be.  

Anyway, they meet, they hate, they bang, etc etc, and why does sex in modern romances feel so much more coarse than in historicals? Just me? Anyway, Lina gets the job, happy ever afters for all involved, except me, because this book talks about food and desserts a LOT, and right now I have a really bad sweet tooth except that my doctor just told me I should be eating more APPLES to avoid constipation with all the iron I'm taking. Great.   

 

Why My Cat is More Impressive Than Your Baby

By Matthew Inman (The Oatmeal)

A book of comics from the creator of The Oatmeal, and for a one-time flip through and lighthearted look at cat/dog/baby stereotypes, it was pretty fun.  I though it was amusing, but not worth buying or reading more than once.  It's a lot of " my cat is evil and mysterious but also delightful" and "babies are disgusting" so you know, pretty standard.   My husband, on the other hand, is still raving about it a week later and already bought three copies - one to keep and two to give away, so definitely there's an audience for it! To be fair, he's also particularly enamored of one of the more bodily humor based cartoons, which is not as much my jam.  To each their own!

 

 

The Witch's Heart

The Witch's Heart

By Genevieve Gornichec

Angrboda’s story begins where most witches' tales end: with a burning. A punishment from Odin for refusing to provide him with knowledge of the future, the fire leaves Angrboda injured and powerless, and she flees into the farthest reaches of a remote forest. There she is found by a man who reveals himself to be Loki, and her initial distrust of him transforms into a deep and abiding love.
 
Their union produces three unusual children, each with a secret destiny, who Angrboda is keen to raise at the edge of the world, safely hidden from Odin’s all-seeing eye. But as Angrboda slowly recovers her prophetic powers, she learns that her blissful life—and possibly all of existence—is in danger.
 
With help from the fierce huntress Skadi, with whom she shares a growing bond, Angrboda must choose whether she’ll accept the fate that she’s foreseen for her beloved family...or rise to remake their future. From the most ancient of tales this novel forges a story of love, loss, and hope for the modern age.

I just finished this one (like an hour ago), after reading it all through on a beautiful Sunday afternoon.  It's mostly sort of a character study, I suppose, although the incipient Ragnarok kicks the action up in the second part of the book.  

I had some loose knowledge of the Norse mythology, thanks to Horrible History and various collections of myths and legends, but all of Angrboda's story was unfamiliar to me.  From the bare minimum of research I did in the last five minutes, it looks like Gornichec fleshed out a fairly minor character and gave her an entire, cogent storyline of her own.  I have to say I would never have known it was all pieced together from very little source material.  She did a great job of making a solid, cohesive, and poignant narrative.  Although basically all of it is sad, the book itself wasn't sad - Angrboda's fairly angry and upset at parts, but avoids a lot of moping and it ultimately ends on a  hopeful note - Angrboda's primary goal of saving her daughter being successful in the end. 

Gornichec does a good job of introducing the various characters and defining the various factions, although some of the initial bad feeling between the Aesir and the giants (or why it's taken so long to start the end of the world, if it can be caused by a single fire giant) is glossed over. 

It's also interesting to me - and I don't know if this is more due to the source material or the sex of the author - that of all the violence that is done to Angrboda (and there is a lot), none of it is sexual violence.  I was talking with my mother the other day about a tv show and she was complaining that although it never went as far as sexual violence, it heavily implied the threat, which ruined her experience.  It does seem to me like it's become an easy (read: lazy) shorthand for artists to use when women are in danger.  It's so commonplace now that I almost assume that if a women is threatened, sexual violence is part of the threat.  And that sucks.  So while it seems weird to say about someone who is burned three times and had her heart cut out (and that's just in the first two pages), I appreciate that rape never comes into her storyline.  Not that it's entirely without weird sex stuff.  I mean, she hooks up with Loki, who is at one point a pregnant horse, and has three children, two of whom are a wolf and a snake, respectively. 

Overall, this was well written and engaging, a little bit slow and bittersweet.  It does feel a little fish-lens focused, in the sense that Angrboda is (naturally) the primary character, but everyone around her is a little fuzzy and out of focus, especially the further away they get.  Even Loki, who has maybe the second biggest role in this, suffers a little bit in that we never really do get into why he's so incapable of not getting into trouble. Gornichec is maybe unfairly constrained here because she doesn't have much flexibility over his actions from the original myths, and myths are more about the archetypes than nuance, but it is something to keep in mind - we're not here for Loki, or Skadi or Odin or Ragnarok.  We're here for Angrboda. 

Did I like it? Yes.  Am I passionate about it? Well, not really, and I feel a little guilty about it (can you tell), because it definitely deserves to find some passionate readers, but I did enjoy it and sometimes that's all we need.

The Mystery of the Yellow Room

The Mystery of the Yellow Room

By Gaston Leroux

Reporter and amateur sleuth Joseph Rouletabille is sent to investigate a criminal case at the Château du Glandier and takes along his friend the lawyer Sainclair, who narrates. Mathilde Stangerson, the 30-something daughter of the castle's owner, Professor Joseph Stangerson, was found near-critically battered in a room adjacent to his laboratory on the castle grounds, with the door still locked from the inside. More attempts are made on Ms Stangerson's life despite Rouletabille and police detective Larsan's protection, and the perpetrator appears to vanish on two occasions when they are closing in on him, echoing Professor Stangerson's research into "matter dissociation".

This is supposedly the original "locked room" mystery, and I was intrigued by the premise, but man, it was a bit of a tough go.  First of all, Leroux is the same guy who wrote The Phantom of the Opera, and this was written in a similarly overwrought style.  I've read older books before, and even ones that were a bit more flowery in their style still managed to engage, but this one just made me want to skim everything.  Second, I kept thinking it would be a short, fast read, but every chapter was agonizing.  Third, the solution to the mystery was kind of silly.  Let's get into nitpicks!

Sooooo, the lady was attacked earlier that day, but (for various reasons) did not want to tell anyone, and managed to go about her business for a couple of hours until bedtime, when she suddenly has a nightmare, trips and falls out of bed, hitting her head on her nightstand, and then becomes insensate and hospitalized? Why didn't she just tell people it was a nightmare? I mean, sure, the bloody handprint, but she could have just said she had no idea how that got there.  

Then we find out that the master detective is actually the attacker and a huge fraud, so, his plan after his wife leaves him and he escapes jail is to... go to France and pretend to be a detective for at least five years, and then wait around for his wife to decide to marry someone else, at which point... he attacks her and then gets himself assigned to the case so he can frame her new lover for the crime? Great long term thinking there!  I did correctly guess the attacker was a previous (and jealous) lover of the lady, but apparently this guy has just been hanging around town for years, literally solving crimes, and he couldn't be bothered to track her down? And if he wasn't hanging around for years solving crimes, how on earth did he join the detective force in time to "investigate" this one?? For that matter, why on earth was he pretending to be a detective in the first place? So he can make a steady living, while also framing people for crimes they didn't commit? Seems kind of petty for a master criminal. 

And meanwhile her new lover is arrested because he's being conned away by an associate of the husband, each time she's attacked - you'd think after the first time he'd wise up and stop letting that happen.  Instead, she's attacked like, three times!  And each time, this guy has no alibi! 

Maybe I'm just bitter that I didn't figure out that Larsan was the criminal.  In my defense, (a) I think it's ridiculous that a master criminal worked his way up through the Paris detective ranks and just did that for years and (b) my copy of the book was on an e-reader, so the "detailed plans" of the various crime scene layouts was just a jumble of lines and labels, and (b, part 2) Rouletabille is so obtuse in his manner of talking that I couldn't figure out what the eff was going on. You could have set that scene to "Yakety Sax" for all I knew.  

There's also a lot of misdirection about the landskeeper, and every other servant is called "Daddy" something (not a joke) so I wasn't even entirely sure who was who, but we'll call that sour grapes and  chalk it up to my not caring enough to read carefully or attentively.  Good for the completist, but otherwise I prefer my other mysteries.

Shipped

Shipped

By Angie Hockman

Between taking night classes for her MBA and her demanding day job at a cruise line, marketing manager Henley Evans barely has time for herself, let alone family, friends, or dating. But when she’s shortlisted for the promotion of her dreams, all her sacrifices finally seem worth it.

The only problem? Graeme Crawford-Collins, the remote social media manager and the bane of her existence, is also up for the position. Although they’ve never met in person, their epic email battles are the stuff of office legend.

Their boss tasks each of them with drafting a proposal on how to boost bookings in the Galápagos—best proposal wins the promotion. There’s just one catch: they have to go on a company cruise to the Galápagos Islands...together. But when the two meet on the ship, Henley is shocked to discover that the real Graeme is nothing like she imagined. As they explore the Islands together, she soon finds the line between loathing and liking thinner than a postcard.

With her career dreams in her sights and a growing attraction to the competition, Henley begins questioning her life choices. Because what’s the point of working all the time if you never actually live?

 

This is another of those workplace rom-coms where the prospective couple is vying for the same job, which always makes me a little nervous - there's gonna be some tricky maneuvering to make sure everyone gets their happy ending, and I didn't love that part of The Hating Game.  But I was persuaded because of the strong focus on the Galapagos, which was definitely the best part of the book.  

I liked it well enough, and it was a super fast read, so I finished the whole book one night after dinner, but  I never went back to re-read any parts, you know? It was cute, and amusing, but light.  Also, no explicit sex scenes, if you're curious.  Implicit!  

We get the entire book from Henley's perspective, which is for the best, since she comes off as more the "wronger" than the "wronged" in the initial (and subsequent) interactions with Graeme, especially once we get his side of the story.  From his perspective, I'm not entirely sure what her attraction would be.  

And I know that the whole plot of the book is about two people vying for the same job, but all that stuff with her boss and the big denouement was, eh, not that fun.  The cruise trip was much more entertaining, and I wish we'd had a week longer of that, and less time back at the office at the end.  Plus, three different men have taken credit for her projects in her work career? That's... majestically unlucky.  I also thought her and her sister's relationship was a little bit off.  She loves her, but thinks she's a failure, sure, okay, I'm on board, but then this whole plan of her sister's to get Graeme too distracted for the competition is just blown off like it's just another day in the Evans household and all is quickly forgiven.  And then we come out into a hard left when we find out her sister is being abused.  Jeez, it just kept getting weirder and weirder.  And a little 27 Dresses of it all.  

Anyway, it's fun, breezy, and light, and don't think too hard about it and you'll have a good time! And also desire to book a cruise asap. 

 

 

The Ninth House

The Ninth House

By Leigh Bardugo

Galaxy “Alex” Stern is the most unlikely member of Yale’s freshman class. Raised in the Los Angeles hinterlands by a hippie mom, Alex dropped out of school early and into a world of shady drug-dealer boyfriends, dead-end jobs, and much, much worse. In fact, by age twenty, she is the sole survivor of a horrific, unsolved multiple homicide. Some might say she’s thrown her life away. But at her hospital bed, Alex is offered a second chance: to attend one of the world’s most prestigious universities on a full ride. What’s the catch, and why her?

Still searching for answers, Alex arrives in New Haven tasked by her mysterious benefactors with monitoring the activities of Yale’s secret societies. Their eight windowless “tombs” are the well-known haunts of the rich and powerful, from high-ranking politicos to Wall Street’s biggest players. But their occult activities are more sinister and more extraordinary than any paranoid imagination might conceive. They tamper with forbidden magic. They raise the dead. And, sometimes, they prey on the living.

So, I hate the way this book starts.  We start in "early spring" with our narrator, Alex, banged up and holed up somewhere, and no idea what is going on (the readers, I assume Alex knows what's going on).  Well, okay, I guess we want to build up some tension.  And then we flashback to "winter" and STILL have no idea what's going on, in another chapter without any proper introduction.  So we have to flashback AGAIN, to "fall" and now at least we're getting some introduction as to what on earth is going on, but seriously? That was basically a waste of two whole chapters, and for what? I can't fathom why the author did it, and frankly, it made me seriously pissed off and I decided to switch to another book because of it.  

That being said, if you can get past that, the book does pick up, although takes a while to get moving and it's still a very dark book.  Essentially Galaxy ("Alex") Stern* sees ghosts, and this ability gets her handpicked to succeed Daniel "Darlington" Arlington as resident ghost peace-keeper for Yale's secret societies (and no, I didn't bother keeping the societies straight, and I managed just fine) but shortly after she arrives (aka in the "Winter") Darlington is swallowed up and disappears by some magic hole and she's left to sort of muddle on for herself.  Then she discovers various cover-ups and nasty shenanigans involving murder (as one would expect in a book with a bunch of magic and secret societies).  

I was surprised by the amount of sexual assault in this book!  Haha, not a sentence you read (or write) every day.  I mean, not only the magically coerced rapes, but also just rough lifestyle.  I guess I just wasn't expecting it, not that it was unduly graphic or tastelessly done. LOL "taste" at the idea of drugging and sexual assault.  

The book wraps up the main storyline, but leaves it open-ended for another adventure (like Hench did), and I'm pretty sure Bardugo is already planning more, since Amazon describes this as "Book 1 of Alex Stern". It's hard to judge this one well, since a lot of the Darlington sections felt like a prelude for a sequel in which the gang tries to rescue Darlington from hell (or wherever he went).  They don't add much to Alex's main storyline here, although given that Darlington was disappeared because of an ongoing investigation he was doing into said shenanigans... maybe they should have. 

This was... on the whole, mmmokay.  I don't know that I want to read another one, but I have no regrets on this one.  There was a LOT of New Haven stuff, which maybe would have been more fun/interesting if I'd gone to Yale, or lived in the area.  There's also a fair amount of, well, "building and zoning practices" for lack of a better word.  Part of one of the mysteries is that the secret societies want tombs built on top of nexus points, and no one knows how to make more of them (OR DO THEY?!) and it's a Big Deal if the societies lose the tombs they have.  I mean, I know I've asked for more day to day realism in my fantasies before, but I wasn't really expecting zoning law.  It's definitely not the area of law I would have picked to include first in a fantasy. 

This also had the vibe that Cat Among the Pigeons did, with multiple murderers being revealed at the end.  And SPOILERS, obviously, but Belbalm and Sandow were clearly evil.  I mean, maybe it's just me, but any person of authority in a horror novel is basically a villain, right? I was temporarily misled when Belbalm says her house is a sanctuary, but basically as soon as she invited Alex to a "salon" in, like, Chapter Four, I was like, "Way evil." Unless you're in the 1800s, salons are basically code for "evil rich people".  And maybe even if you are in the 1800s.

Even though the book was a little bit all over the place, what with the flashbacks, and the scatterbrained world building, it still did a good job building up anticipation for the showdown and resolving the various mysteries.  I was reading this on my kindle, so I really noticed the slow versus the fast parts - I would spend what felt like ages reading, and only be a little bit further along, and then it would get really zippy for a bit and then slooooow again. The pacing felt inconsistent, is what I'm trying to say. 

There's definitely some handwaving about how random people/events just happen to unlock huge parts of the mystery here.  I think it's very convenient that one of the mysteries about the magical drugs happened to involve Alex's roommate, who otherwise had no connection to that storyline, but I guess there's some attempt to make it less so, since the bad guy in the roommate story was eventually revealed to just be a convenient fall guy for other villains.  Also how convenient it was that the ghost who just so happens to asks Alex for help looking into his (150 year old) murder turned out to be connected to the other major mystery.  The stars (haha) are really aligning in New Haven, I guess!  

 Ninth House had strong Veronica Mars vibes to it, so maybe that's why I liked it as much as I did, despite its flaws.  [It also had strong The Magicians vibes, which, I hated (but read) the books since I found all of the characters to be unsympathetic whiners and enjoyed the tv show much more]. It had way too many storylines, a lot of unnecessary filler, did a terrible job introducing the characters and world building in the beginning, but for all that, if you want to read a dark magical fantasy about a world wise and weary young lady standing up for The Right Thing against corrupt and powerful people, then here you go!

*Also, how adorable is it that Stern is star in german, so her name is basically "Galaxy Star"? It makes me want to throw something.

Cat Among the Pigeons

Cat Among the Pigeons

By Agatha Christie

Late one night, two teachers investigate a mysterious flashing light in the sports pavilion while the rest of the school sleeps. There, among the lacrosse sticks, they stumble upon the body of an unpopular games mistress—shot through the heart point-blank.

The school is thrown into chaos when the “cat” strikes again. Unfortunately, schoolgirl Julia Upjohn knows too much. In particular, she knows that without Hercule Poirot’s help, she will be the next victim.…

What a misleading blurb! There's absolutely no mention of the missing royal jewels which were smuggled away from a faux middle-eastern country in the midst of a revolution, and which are now ensconced at said British girls' school.  And misleading tagline! I think it's a bit of a stretch to call this a Hercule Poirot novel - yes, he's in it, and solves the mystery, but he basically comes in 90% of the way there, talks with one of the schoolgirls and the police, and then sits everyone down to do the reveal.  Much less detection that his normal métier. Although it was still a relief to have him and not ersatz Poirot.  And this wasn't one I'd read before, so I was very pleased to get into it.  Did it hold up?

Well there's a fair amount of the trademark Christie stereotypes and semi-racism (that's when they acknowledge that people are being racist, but it's intentional so it's supposed to be a joke).  This one has not only aforementioned middle-easterners, but also spanish dancers, french schoolteachers, and emirs.  As usual, the level headed people are lauded and the dramatic people discover things that get them killed (also they're nosy and can't keep their mouths shut). 

I always try to pay very close attention to clues and things, in the hopes that I will someday, solve the mystery before the detective does! Alas, I managed to guess one part of the mystery (kidnapped princess was not actually the real princess) but failed to get any of the murders - but I argue that having two different murderers with two different motives was a cheap trick! I also kept hoping that it was a fake-out that the prince and his pilot friend both died, since they seemed so nice in their initial chapters. I know Christie does sometimes have the victims narrate a bit of the story, but it was a little poignant here.  

Overall, I liked it, although I might have liked it better with at least 100% more Poirot.  It did keep me guessing, and I think any Christie is generally pretty good. I do like the ones where one of the couples ends up together so I definitely convinced myself that's what was going to happen here and I have to say - you got me, Dame Christie.  I fell for it.  Anyway, if you like Christie, by all means, read this one.

Good Girl, Bad Blood

Good Girl, Bad Blood

By Holly Jackson

Pip is not a detective anymore.

With the help of Ravi Singh, she released a true-crime podcast about the murder case they solved together last year. The podcast has gone viral, yet Pip insists her investigating days are behind her.

But she will have to break that promise when someone she knows goes missing. Jamie Reynolds has disappeared, on the very same night the town hosted a memorial for the sixth-year anniversary of the deaths of Andie Bell and Sal Singh.

The police won't do anything about it. And if they won't look for Jamie then Pip will, uncovering more of her town's dark secrets along the way... and this time everyone is listening. But will she find him before it's too late?

This is the second in the series, which I reserved almost as soon as I finished the first one... last year, though it took so long to be available now the third one's slated for publishing, and since I didn't write a review of the first, we'll just have to guess at how they compare to each other. I liked parts of this one, and didn't like parts, so it's a bit of a mixed bag, but overall a positive impression.

What I liked: obviously, the lengthy recap at the beginning, which was necessary for moi, since I never remember anything, and that it was done in such a way that it didn't seem forced or anything. It was good, I appreciated the recap, and helpful, since many of the people and events from A Good Girl's Guide to Murder carryover or have additional effects and storylines in Good Girl, Bad Blood.  

I liked that Ravi was there but not really shoehorned in as a more active participant since this mystery wasn't directly concerning him.  A lot of times it feels like shows or books with popular characters have pressure to keep those characters a big focus of subsequent plots, even though it doesn't make much narrative sense.  I also liked that the "cast" of characters was manageable - even after reading the recap of the first book, it seemed like there was just a lot of different plots to keep track of in that one. 

I also liked Pip, and the development of her character - with a caveat.  The extended "scream" sequence, after she finds out Max Hastings is acquitted is... a bit much.  I appreciated that the trauma from the first book affected her in tangible ways in this one, but because the story is so compressed here (like a week from beginning to end), even spending one whole day on it feels like A LOT of the book.

And the storyline was also a bit suspect too - so in an effort to figure out which young man is the one "Leila" is looking for, both Stanley and Luke are drawn out to meet her - and Stanley's meeting place just happens to be where Luke's drug deals go down? Sure, Jan.  And I liked that Jackson at least attempted to address WHY ON EARTH Leila would use a local person's pictures for the scam, but I found the explanation to be very silly and unbelievable.  And I think, narratively, it was annoying that the reveal about Child Brunswick came so late in the game - yes, in real life, we discover things when we discover them, but when you have readers attempting to solve the puzzle along with the detective, it feels a little cheap to pull in a HUGE aspect of the mystery at like, 80% of the way through.

I also liked, again, the structure of the book.  I can't remember if the first one had all the diagrams and pictures, but those, along with the interview records and other notes, made the reading experience fun.  I liked getting those

Although, haha, where on earth does Pip live that can comfortably manage: two murders, two kidnappings, another miscellaneous missing child, a relocated person in witness protection, not to mention assorted other crimes, like drug dealing, underage relationships, uh, I know I'm forgetting some, but you get the idea.  I mean sure, okay, all that, but ALSO able to walk from one of town to the other in less than an hour?  Hmmm. 

I do see that there's going to be a third one, and I think I'll plan on reading that one too.  I like the style quite a bit,and although I didn't like this one quite as much as the first, it was still very readable.

The Night Tiger

The Night Tiger

By  Yangsze Choo

Quick-witted, ambitious Ji Lin is stuck as an apprentice dressmaker in 1930s Mayalsia, moonlighting as a dancehall girl to help pay off her mother's Mahjong debts. But when one of her dance partners accidentally leaves behind a gruesome souvenir, Ji Lin may finally get the adventure she has been longing for.

Eleven-year-old houseboy Ren is also on a mission, racing to fulfill his former master's dying wish: that Ren find the man's finger, lost years ago in an accident, and bury it with his body. Ren has 49 days to do so, or his master's soul will wander the earth forever.

As the days tick relentlessly by, a series of unexplained deaths racks the district, along with whispers of men who turn into tigers. Ji Lin and Ren's increasingly dangerous paths crisscross through lush plantations, hospital storage rooms, and ghostly dreamscapes.

Ooo, another good one, I'm on a roll!  Eminently readable, although definitely not for everyone.  It's very hard to describe, since the tone of the book is not quite magical realism (as many people have pointed to) but more - the interaction of normal life with the mysticism found in dreams.  Everyday Living with Ghosts, so to speak.   We switch off narration from two main characters, Ren, an 11 year old trying to find a finger, Ji Lin , a young woman working for a dressmaker and in a dancehall, who found the finger, much to her disgust, and one secondary character, William Acton, a British doctor with ~secrets~ (mostly about how he's banging a bunch of women).  

I was sucked in very quickly, the book is pretty atmospheric, so if you like it to start, that's pretty much how it continues.  Both the main characters were fun to read about, though I preferred Ji Lin.  That may be a cop out though, since I mostly just wanted good things to happen to her, and for most of the first part of the book, she seemed to be at risk for "bad things happening" than Ren.  

My biggest beef is that it seemed there was a lot of "suggestive" spiritual/fantastical things, like the weretiger, but they were basically dropped.  The mystery had an entirely human explanation, and although the dreams were intriguing, most of it didn't really connect to things in the normal world (like how each of the five had "something slightly wrong" with them - was this ever really addressed? or the dream sequences, the way that Ren's brother seemed to have another agenda going on, but it never really panned out).  

I know some people were weirded out by the step-brother romance thing - it was telegraphed early enough and obviously enough that I was prepared for it, so it didn't upset me in the sense of coming out of nowhere, and I was really rooting for those crazy kids, but I will say that once it was out in the open and her brother was basically like, "I'm going to try to seduce you," that was a little creepy to me.  Like the vibe at the end of that movie, The Graduate, where they run off so happily, but then we stay on them and you can see the smiles just sort of gradually disappear.  Why can't Ji Lin have nice things!

I would however, be more than happy to read about Ji Lin and Ren's continuing adventures in Singapore! I feel like they would make a wacky and entertaining detective team.  One of the most disappointing things was how little time they spent together in this book - although it wouldn't really make sense for them to join forces (this isn't a comic book, after all), I really would have loved to see them interact more, if only because each got very little support from other people in their lives, and it was nice to see their connection.    Man, I could have strangled William for shooting Ren though, that was messed up. Even if it was an accident.  

I'd like to re-read this again, this time with more of an eye towards the non-mystery parts of the story.  I mean, one of the strengths of the book is that even though I was incredibly curious about how it was going to be resolved, the writing really sucked me into the mood and atmosphere, instead of feeling like it was just slowing the plot down (although at roughly 1/3rd of the way in, I was like, "How can this plot fill the rest of the book?" and I'm still not sure how it took so long to wrap up, but I never minded the ride).  Which is good, because that increases the re-readability. I guess what I'm saying is, it felt very immersive and dreamy, which I hope was the intention of the author, almost like being there, and I enjoyed the trip very much.

Hench

Hench

By Natalie Zona Walschots

Anna does boring things for terrible people because even criminals need office help and she needs a job. Working for a monster lurking beneath the surface of the world isn’t glamorous. But is it really worse than working for an oil conglomerate or an insurance company? In this economy?

 As a temp, she’s just a cog in the machine. But when she finally gets a promising assignment, everything goes very wrong, and an encounter with the so-called “hero” leaves her badly injured.  And, to her horror, compared to the other bodies strewn about, she’s the lucky one.

So, of course, then she gets laid off.

With no money and no mobility, with only her anger and internet research acumen, she discovers her suffering at the hands of a hero is far from unique. When people start listening to the story that her data tells, she realizes she might not be as powerless as she thinks.

Because the key to everything is data: knowing how to collate it, how to manipulate it, and how to weaponize it. By tallying up the human cost these caped forces of nature wreak upon the world, she discovers that the line between good and evil is mostly marketing.  And with social media and viral videos, she can control that appearance.

It’s not too long before she’s employed once more, this time by one of the worst villains on earth. As she becomes an increasingly valuable lieutenant, she might just save the world.

 

I think Hench is going to end up in my year-end best list.  At one point, I was telling my husband that I didn't want to accidentally spoil myself because I was having trouble predicting what was going to happen next.  Not that Hench is an original tale - the idea of the mundane in a superheroic world (and even the everyday cost of all that damage from saving the world) has been done before - the Watchmen tv series was amazing, although I Did Not Love the original comic - and ultimately, nothing in the story was THAT unexpected (except for the DETAILED and LENGTHY description of Supercollider's ultimate, uh, "new look"), but Walschots manages to tell it in a very exciting and compelling way.  

I didn't really love the beginning, or Anna, who works for supervillains because it pays (although apparently it doesn't even do that much, since she's living off ramen at the start) and winds up getting severely injured while on the job.  A couple reasons this didn't work for me: (1) she chose to align herself with a person who kidnaps and threatens to cut the finger off some kid, so does she really have the high ground here? and (2) her vendetta against superheroes really becomes justified only when we find out that Supercollider is an absolute trash bag.  If, for example, she'd been injured and focused her rage on a superhero who felt bad about it, we wouldn't empathize so much with her, and frankly, it's just chance that it was Supercollider.  Sort of like a broken clock being right twice a day - Anna was correct here, but wasn't it more luck than skill that led her to target Supercollider?  

But I would be much more interested to hear a non-American viewpoint of Anna's position, because in the US, it is very much an attitude of "You signed on with criminals, you are a criminal".  There are laws which basically impute crimes, like murder, to the "less culpable" members of the gang (like the getaway driver) just because you were complicit in the entire transaction.  In that sense, Anna isn't innocent.  She literally interviewed for the position of "bad guy" and walked intentionally into a life of crime.  On the other hand, even criminals have due process. Is any amount of force justified under any circumstances? Obviously the broad answer should be "no", but in the specific context of the book, this is where I think her position is weak, again: no, I don't think force is always justified, but there was about to be physical violence, with the director of that violence (Electric Eel) indicating that he was capable of doing even worse than the immediate finger-loss.  Just because Anna has the benefit in hindsight of calculating the lost life of the hench people versus a finger and money, what would have been the ultimate loss had Supercollider (or some other hero) not intervened? Would Electric Eel have stopped with money or a finger? She's very blase about the kidnapping and threats until her own life is on the line - Anna doesn't sign on to be a hench person because she thinks the superheroes are out of control until she's actually injured by one.  Only then does she embark on her holy mission of vengeance.  So why the high horse? Perhaps the sequel, if there is one, will explore further her assumption that superheroes create their own villains.  That's like saying laws create criminals.  Sure, without laws, we wouldn't have "crime" technically, but uh, murder would still happen. Is she really suggesting that no villain has a venal desire here? Or that the villains, who set out to create chaos, are better than the superheroes who do so carelessly?

The author mentions in an interview that some people never get past that portion and don't finish the book.  Obviously I did, and I liked it quite a bit.  There's something fascinating and attractive about competent people, good or evil, and obviously here, we discover that their mission is "righteous" (if there is such a thing in this world) since Supercollider is a huge dick.  

I also appreciated the involvement of Quantum, Supercollider's main squeeze, who ends up taking over the ultimate fight (while our protagonist, Anna, basically waits by the sidelines, as someone who is skilled only in data entry should be doing) although it could be seen as a real deus ex machina. 

I think there's also some parallels to be drawn (if one were so inclined) about the narrative taking over the reality.  Here, the idea of superheroes as well, heroic, is so ingrained that it actually gives Supercollider power (more than just, like, the power to plow into buildings without being prosecuted). I mean, what are we dealing with in society right now if not this idea that "feelings" trump "facts".  Another recent take on what it means to be "good" in today's world, where every choice actually implicates a net negative is The Good Place.   There's definitely a lot of scope for critical examinations of Hench, and I liked that it wasn't necessarily easy - you know, Anna doesn't become a better person by the end of it, it's hard to say whether justice was actually done, and even the person who "won" isn't happy.

Maybe it's just me climbing out of a rut, or maybe I was just in the mood, or maybe I've become a complete nihilist in the face of *all this*, but Hench was a refreshing delight.

Dear Mr. Knightley

Dear Mr. Knightley

By Katherine Reay

Sam is, to say the least, bookish. An English major of the highest order, her diet has always been Austen, Dickens, and Shakespeare. The problem is, both her prose and conversation tend to be more Elizabeth Bennet than Samantha Moore.

But life for the twenty-three-year-old orphan is about to get stranger than fiction. An anonymous, Dickensian benefactor (calling himself Mr. Knightley) offers to put Sam through Northwestern University's prestigious Medill School of Journalism. There is only one catch: Sam must write frequent letters to the mysterious donor, detailing her progress.

As Sam's memory mingles with that of eligible novelist Alex Powell, her letters to Mr. Knightley become increasingly confessional. While Alex draws Sam into a world of warmth and literature that feels like it's straight out of a book, old secrets are drawn to light. And as Sam learns to love and trust Alex and herself, she learns once again how quickly trust can be broken.

I wasn't immediately drawn into this book, but thought I'd give it a chance, you know.  It had that feel of "downtrodden orphan suddenly experiences good fortune" a la Mandy or Daddy Longlegs or Anne of Green Gables and those can be fun.  I honestly don't know if it would have been okay if it hadn't been set in Chicago, but it was, and now here I am, not even finished with the book, and already typing out my feelings because I'm so annoyed.  

This book felt like it was written by someone who had no idea what Chicago is like, and reading the author biography, maybe this is unfair, but she sounds like some rich white person who went to school at Northwestern (in Evanston, a pretty rich, white town) and now lives in a fancy fucking suburb and thinks she knows Chicago because she knows the restaurants that rich, white people eat at downtown, and she knows the North Side (the "good parts" of Chicago). 

Example 1: Everytime Sam takes the train somewhere, or walks around in a neighborhood other than the north side, she's either beaten, threatened, or harassed.  This shit was RIDICULOUS.  She literally takes cabs from downtown to Evanston because she can't take the train anymore.  This is some weird-ass tourist fear bullshit.  This insane reactionary attitude about the public transportation is making me see red.  That's just made up fear-mongering. If you've grown up in Chicago, you get fucking used to the bus (never mentioned, haha, probably because only people who actually live here take the bus and Reay's just a damn sightseer) and the train, and you have your protection - attitude, keys, loud voice, pepper spray, whatever - to draw on if you get singled out, but ninety-nine times out of a hundred, you just keep your damn head down and it's FINE.  Not to mention that anyone who'd been in an abusive home would, I assume, have even more experience doing this. And of course, all of her Chicago friends, Kyle and Cara, also get beaten too, because no one who lives here can possibly go without getting attacked.

Example 2: Name dropping  and pill popping.  No, wait, no pill popping, just name dropping.  I felt a vague disquiet early in the book when she's referencing neighborhoods and shit, like it all felt off somehow, you know?, but halfway through, she make an egregious error about where something is located that I am personally familiar with and I was like, "This shit is wrong."  I mean, the premise is that Sam is from Chicago, right? How is that possible when she talks about it like it's a foreign country? Why name drop these neighborhoods so aggressively if you're gonna be so wrong? It would have been better not to mention locations at all! Then I could have filled in the blanks of where she's at, but it's like Reay just heard these names and didn't bother looking up what the actual character of these places are. Chicago has a hundred neighborhoods, some good, some bad, and yes, it can change in the space of a few blocks.  I can feel myself getting angry, and honestly, I know I sound like a crazy person, but the real indignity is not that she's getting it so wrong, but that she's using the city like some crime-filled backdrop for Sam's elevation and that's not right.  Chicago is a lot of things, and it deserves more than just to be some cheap shorthand.

It's like Reay wanted us to know how much research she did so she name drops Chicago restaurants like it's going out of style, and all of these places are, again, rich white people places, north side places.  Sam's geographic locations (including Grace House, where she begins the book) when she's in her orphans state are incredibly vague, but as soon as she meets up with all these suburban assholes we get incredibly specific.  Not to mention, all these places are fucking expensive.  Sure, she's going on dates with wealthy guys, but honestly, she never takes her foster kid friend Kyle out for like, $10 pizza? Or those semi dubious "chicken-fish" places? And never a qualm about the menu prices? Which brings me to my next point:

Example 3: This book sounds like it was written like someone who was never poor.  A specific example: Sam gets broken up with, and goes home and watches "two Austen movies, ate a whole pizza and an entire pint of Ben and Jerry's", then, not even like two chapters laters, tells Alex that she never went into the cookie aisle because she couldn't afford it growing up.  Bitch, you can afford Ben and Jerry's!  I'm sorry, you have NO MONEY and yet you're buying the fancy ass $4 pints of ice cream? You're going out to eat at Spago and Spiaggia and Billy Goat Tavern? You're taking cabs all over the damn place? I feel like I'm taking crazy pills! Is this what someone who has never been poor thinks it's like? At one point, Alex surprises her by wanting to go running, so she goes to Fleet Feet (*rolls eyes*) with him, and lets him buy her shoes and shorts and who knows what else (no mention of needing a dang sports bra, I see, what a freaking fantasy world) and never a qualm!  

And for ~plot reasons~ Kyle manages to get adopted in like, two months, which, I don't think you can even get a court date in less than two months in Cook County, let alone go through the adoption process.  Damn.  And haha, she thinks the Chicago Marathon would be cancelled because it's windy and rainy? Lol, I can think of one race cancelled (mid-race, because who knows what the weather will be like the day before) and that was because it was like, 95 degrees and 100% humidity and people were passing out.  The racing season begins when it is still like, 35 degrees in the daytime, and the races start before the sun is up.  Not to mention, I don't know where Sam is running mile 20 that she's on Lake Shore Drive hearing the sound of waves crashing, but I think she's going the wrong way.  Mile 20 is like, in Chinatown.

Anyway, aside from that, I never really connected with Sam, and thought the plot was all very telegraphed. Except for that marriage proposal. Man, nothing says "good idea" like proposing to someone who has never gone on a date with you.