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.