Saturday, April 26, 2025

Assistant to the Villain

Assistant to the Villain

By Hannah Nicole Maehrer

ASSISTANT WANTED: Notorious, high-ranking villain seeks loyal, levelheaded assistant for unspecified office duties, supporting staff for random mayhem, terror, and other Dark Things In General. Discretion a must. Excellent benefits.

With ailing family to support, Evie Sage's employment status isn't just important, it's vital. So when a mishap with Rennedawn’s most infamous Villain results in a job offer—naturally, she says yes. No job is perfect, of course, but even less so when you develop a teeny crush on your terrifying, temperamental, and undeniably hot boss. Don’t find evil so attractive, Evie.

But just when she’s getting used to severed heads suspended from the ceiling and the odd squish of an errant eyeball beneath her heel, Evie suspects this dungeon has a huge rat…and not just the literal kind. Because something rotten is growing in the kingdom of Rennedawn, and someone wants to take the Villain—and his entire nefarious empire—out.

Now Evie must not only resist drooling over her boss but also figure out exactly who is sabotaging his work…and ensure he makes them pay.

After all, a good job is hard to find.

Well, we have an early contender for least favorite read of the challenge! And what a surprise dark horse, although in theory, at least, I get to choose all of these books according to my tastes so none of them should be awful (Ernest Hemingway and 'less than three stars on goodreads' notwithstanding). But I had this one on my possible reading list even before the challenge came out, so it should have at least been palatable.  

But I was only 3% of the way in before I realized I didn't like it, and 7% when I first contemplated not even finishing it. And if not for the challenge, I definitely would have abandoned it without a second thought. But instead I struggled through it - it has the benefit of being fairly insubstantial - and finished it as fast as I could.  

Ostensibly it's some sort of arch Office meets twisted fantasy story mashup, but it's mostly an excuse for the author to attempt to be funny via anachronisms, i.e. the villain has a department of interns and a woman who runs HR, and a everyone drinks "cauldron brew" aka coffee. The thinly veiled references to modern office bureaucracy didn't amuse me though, all it did was heighten the bizarre mental gymnastics you have to do in order to accept that our heroine isn't a massive idiot. 

So the Villain is, obviously, going to be totally misunderstood and actually not a bad guy, right? I mean, a love story between psychopaths is clearly not what the author's intending here. But immediately after the prologue in which Evie gets the job offer, she finds three severed heads - actual human heads - on her desk, and she mentions a "test" when the Villain left a whole ass dead person in her desk to see how she'd react. And she's like, "It's FINE! I'm sure those people deserved it!" Like, what?? That's not fine in the context either of a fantasy world or an office job! Here's a quote that I think is meant to come across as flirty? Sexy? I have no words:
 
'I would, you know. Torture someone,' she clarified, an alarming sincerity on her face. 'If I knew it would help you-- if it was someone hurting you...I'd do it and I'd probably enjoy it just a little.' With that, she spun on her heel, her sunny dress offsetting the weight of her words.
Girl, get your head on straight. 

If you want to read a book in which the villain is actually a misunderstood hero who doesn't just murder people and leave parts around for their ostensible secretaries to find (which, let's be clear, is upsetting and gross behavior) then read Nimona instead. That's a great take on the villain/hero idea. Or if you want to read about someone who works for a villain and actually becomes villainous themself, try Hench. That's an interesting take on what being evil means. Assistant to the Villain is neither of these. In fact, it is merely a mess.  

Lest we ever get the wrong idea about the Villain, it's made clear that he's incredibly HOT and SEXY and Evie would do him in a minute. So it's okay that she also thinks he kills people for fun. Because all can be forgiven if you're hot and wear v-necks, apparently. And look, Evie can boink who she wants. But it's all treated like just another ho-hum meet cute, and it just makes you doubt her mental acuity. It's not like she's like, oh, I'm sure he's innocent! Instead her biggest hangup is that she thinks he doesn't like her that way. Which clearly he does, because he even thinks her dumb comments about finding the mole are super insightful. Here, I highlighted it because it was so obnoxiously pandering, this is after they're talking about why he doesn't just torture all his employees to find the mole:
'And you know if the traitor finds out you're looking for them, they'll inform the person they're answering to. You want to take them by surprise, too.'
He couldn't catch the drop of his jaw in time. 'You - Yes, that's exactly it.'
This is a jaw-dropping revelation? Genius. No one else could have come up with some primo A to B reasoning like that. Which, again, just makes it irritating that we're supposed to pretend she's smart, but she can't even figure out that this guy likes her. The everybody-knows-we-like-each-other-except-us! trope is so middle school.

So this guy, (who again, is both supposedly a villain and also her boss) thinks the sun shines out of her ass and they run around trying to find out who the spy is on the inside ruining the Villain's plans. Except of course, it's Evie herself, accidentally using some sort of magical ink which writes everything down in duplicate, and feeding stuff to her father who secretly IS some kind of psycho, since he fakes a whole life-threatening illness, lets his daughter think they're destitute in order to keep up the facade, and then tries to sell her to the blacksmith so she stops bugging him at home. He also plants a bomb like fifteen feet from her desk, and somehow (this may have been explained, but let's be honest, I was not giving this my full attention) lets a poison-spitting monster out to terrorize a house party. 
 
Oh, and about that the aforementioned house party: Evie gets an invitation, meets up with her coworkers who all agree that it's a trap, they GO ANYWAY, Evie talks them out of letting the Villain know they've all been suckered into this stupid trap, then when Evie realizes that as a result of this decision, the Villain has to talk briefly with his father, she RUNS AWAY because THAT is worthy of the dramatic flounce, apparently. And when the Villain catches up to her instead of talking about plans to address the obvious TRAP, they... have a slow dance. Until the poison-spitting monster shows up, of course. At every possible point, our two main characters choose the option which makes the least rational sense. 

Whatever, they deserve each other. Let's cross this one of the list and thank our lucky stars we don't have to read any more about them.

****

These didn't really fit into my review, but here are some more passages I highlighted in anger:

Granted, she didn't want to become evil, but when you spend most of your life trying to see the sun, you begin to wish for rain.
What the fuck does this mean? 
 
This is when she thinks she's dying:
 A different face flashed in her mind - her boss, The Villain. Evie couldn't believe she was leaving him when he needed her most. Who would make him begrudgingly smile now?

Evie is a clown, so I guess it's fitting that her last thoughts are about making people smile. 

This is when she and the Villain head back to her house, and by the way, this is like, months after she started working for him:

The yellow tulips lining the front walk looked odd from her current position: being in a carriage...belonging to a glorified murderer.

First of all, I think we can drop the "glorified". He a for real murderer. Second, why is this suddenly weird? Did it take being in a carriage to realize you had flowers at your house?


26: A Book Where An Adult Character Changes Careers


Saturday, April 19, 2025

Let It All Burn

 Let It All Burn 

By  Denise Grover Swank

Darcie Weatherby of Perry's Fall, Ohio has a preteen, sixteen-year-old twins, a wayward grandmother, a nightmare boss, a manipulative ex-husband, and hot flashes that start fires like the one that burned her boss's house down. Unless she figures out a way to get things under control, there's a chance she'll spontaneously combust at the Founder's Day Masquerade Ball.

I don't know what the heck THAT was. It started out normal enough, a woman having hot flashes accidentally starts fires, okay, okay, okay, some magical realism, sure, gotcha, and then at the like, 90% mark, we take an abrupt right turn into millennials-long guardianship over a Greek goddess who gets reincarnated every fifty years (and a somehow completely unrelated side plot about diamond smuggling). What the fuck?

The basic idea is fine, but Swank can't stop adding weirder and weirder parts that don't add anything and don't make sense, like the FBI agent who first meets Darcie while he's investigating this diamond thing, but then becomes intensely interested in her to the point of following her around and demanding answers like a crazed stalker.  And she doesn't have any answers! 

Or the part where Darcie's cousin Ella is an investigative reporter and we think there's going to be some big reveal about the Mayor or that Ella is going to find out what's going on with Darcie's firepowers but instead of any of that panning out, instead at the grand gala there's a lengthy digression about Ella acting drunk because of an allergic reaction, and she winds up spending the fateful event on a cot. 

The ending and explanation come out of nowhere and the book wraps up with all kinds of loose ends flapping in the breeze, like how Darcie will incorporate a fourth child in to her family (and what her current kids will think of that) whether it's noted that Tammy just up and disappeared, like, just... anything! Any of it! Even the parts that are explained are explained in a really baffling way. What is this stupid bargain Persephone made, and why does it reset every fifty years? Why does it make the gods mad? What happens when it ends? Why, why why?? It was like Swank couldn't figure out how to wrap it up so just added in some god stuff. It would have been better if Darcie was just becoming a fire demon, like her friend suggested.

However, prior to that point, it was a decent read. Darcie's nicely fleshed out, her friends and kids are fun and there's space there for an interesting story about her growing into herself in this new phase of her life. But we... got something else instead, so I'm just going to slowly back away. 

09: A Book That Features A Character Going Through Menopause


Saturday, April 12, 2025

You Are Here

You Are Here 

By David Nicholls

Michael is coming undone. Adrift after his wife's departure, he has begun taking himself on long, solitary walks across the English countryside. Becoming ever more reclusive, he’ll do anything to avoid his empty house.

Marnie, on the other hand, is stuck. Hiding alone in her London flat, she avoids old friends and any reminders of her rotten, selfish ex-husband. Curled up with a good book, she’s battling the long afternoons of a life that feels like it’s passing her by.

When a persistent mutual friend and some very unpredictable weather conspire to toss Michael and Marnie together on the most epic of ten-day hikes, neither of them can think of anything worse. Until, of course, they discover exactly what they’ve been looking for.

Michael and Marnie are on the precipice of a bright future . . . if they can survive the journey.

This was a charming palate cleanser after a couple of not great books, if by charming, you mean, "one of those books which talks about why marriages fail for the most depressing of reasons and it makes you worry about the state of your own union." Not that it did that... much, but reading about second chance romance always makes me feel like there's a target on my back: do the reasons the heroine's first relationship failed sound eerily similar to my life? Is my marriage happier - all the time or on average at least - than that of our hero and his first love?

I don't think I ever had that problem as a younger person, when a poor fit just meant you hadn't met the right person yet, but it bothers me now to read about marriages when both people intend and want the best, and love each other, and then gradually fall out of love. It's a scary presentiment of one potential future which terrifies in its banality and familiarity. 'It could happen to you!' goes the jingle about winning the lottery, but in an awful way, not at all desirable.

Luckily we spend more time developing Marnie and Michael's relationship than dwelling on mistakes of the past. Nicholls does a wonderful job writing conversations which feel realistic, especially for people just beginning to know each other, and possibly to feel more for each other: jokey, arch, tentative, short, building on the bases that the other lays out. Although we take their viewpoints in turn, and (which is often the case) the views are not so distinctive that you would immediately know who is narrating - again, something that only became more important to me when I saw how perfectly it could be executed in The Feast of the Goat - there's an apt comfort in the similarities, that they are compatible in their minds and feelings. You have to believe in their chemistry in order for the book to work, and you do.

It's also nice to read about a relationship which seems reasonable in its pacing: insta-love and immediate sexual attraction, as amusing as it is to picture on the page, seems shallow and fake compared to the slow unfolding of a person that happens more often in life. Ten days of constant company and you could start thinking about being in love. 

This is a romance, but it's written by a man and contains no actual sex, so it gets shelved in fiction and is taken seriously. But the heart of the story, in fact, the only part of the story, is the gradual opening up these two lonely people do so they can fall in love with each other. The ending tries too hard to distance itself from that premise: we leave off on the lovers tentatively planning to reunite, optimistic but early days yet. Just lean into it! Let's skip another year into the future and have them moved in together with a miracle baby on the way! You made us like these people, now let's see them get the happy ending they're longing for! 

Aside from anything else, I predict an increase in through hikes in the few years. I happen to like the idea of walking endlessly just to look at nature (whilst still enjoying a real bath and bed every night) but even those naturally opposed to the idea will find some inspiration here, I think. Nicholls manages to make even rainy misery sound like an adventure, and I suppose, with the right person, it is. Which is the whole point. 

42: A Book That Starts With The Letter Y

Saturday, April 5, 2025

Lady Eve's Last Con

Lady Eve's Last Con

By Rebecca Fraimow

Ruth Johnson and her sister Jules have been small-time hustlers on the interstellar cruise lines for years. But then Jules fell in love with one of their targets, Esteban Mendez-Yuki, sole heir to the family insurance fortune. Esteban seemed to love her too, until she told him who she really was, at which point he fled without a word.

Now Ruth is set on disguised as provincial debutante Evelyn Ojukwu and set for the swanky satellite New Monte, she’s going to make Esteban fall in love with her, then break his heart and take half his fortune. At least, that's the plan. But Ruth hadn't accounted for his younger sister, Sol, a brilliant mind in a dashing suit... and much harder to fool.

Sol is hot on Ruth's tail, and as the two women learn each other’s tricks, Ruth must decide between going after the money and going after her heart.

Well, I had high hopes for this one: a madcap story in space about a con artist looking for revenge? Sign me up! But as other reviews state, the problem is that for a screwball comedy to work, you've got to be rushed along at a pace too fast to look around you. The minute the train slows down you're dead in the water, so to speak. And if you couldn't tell already, this story got slooooooow.

It's probably about a hundred pages longer than it needs to be. Every time we get some action, we spend another ten pages of Ruthi's internal monologue about the setting, or going over details about the back and forth machinations with Sol, or the local gang,  that just bog things down. 

I'm not dinging Fraimow (much) - this kind of storytelling is hard. But you've got to be much more streamlined about it than she is here. Connie Willis is the epitome of space screwball comedy and even she gets it wrong sometimes (let's not speak of her most recent effort, The Road to Roswell). But there needs to be a zingy tension that pulls the reader through it all, and instead, I found myself putting this down multiple times, having to force myself to finish it. 

It doesn't help that we spend more time with just Sol and Ruthi than we do in groups, and that they show their hands to each other in the first third of the book. Part of what's needed is more undercurrents, like conversations where Sol and Ruthi are trying to catch each other out but can't reveal their own cards in front of other people. Instead, after a big confrontation on the beach satellite, we... um, wander around the lower decks talking about frozen ducks and Sol's poor half-siblings, on a weird pseudo date.  

I think part of the problem is that it feels like Fraimow is setting this up for more installments. The classic version requires all storylines to be wrapped up tightly, preferably with all couples reunited, all bad guys punished, and all ventures successful. We don't get that. Instead Jules is in limbo, four months pregnant and refusing to marry Esteban. We don't see the result of the ruse on Alfonso at all and presumably the gang will be after them again in subsequent books. And there's no real resolution about the frickin kosher ducks, which is the whole device on which the plot spins: what the golden girl did to get herself in so deep with the mob that she's tempted to wipe her memory and it's wrapped up off-screen.

So instead of that feeling you get when you press the button on a tape measure and it all comes whizzing back into your hand and closing with a satisfying catch, it's like we threw a yoyo out and now it's just on the ground flaccid and we gotta spool it back up ourselves.

There's a lot of promise here, a lot of good things, like the characters and the setting, and the pitter patter and well, everything else is fine. It's just the pace, the tempo, but for something like this, that's everything.
 
 03: A Book About Space Tourism