Strong themes of freedom, colorism, family, and deception. 

 

I really wanted to like this book.  I mean… the cover alone is stunning.  And the premise was enticing and promising: the first free female, black doctor raising a black female child in reconstruction era Brooklyn.  But both cover and premise deceived me.  

 

Ultimately, the storyline wasn’t engaging, the characters felt very one dimension, and the writing fell flat to me.  

Harrow’s writing is every bit as magical as the fantasies she weaves.  I was completely enchanted by this clever retelling with a powerful message. 

 

Zinnia Gray was cursed at birth, not unlike Sleeping Beauty with whom she is consumed.  Knowing her congenital disease destines her to no more than 21 years of life, Zinnia lives stilted and cautiously.  But on the night of her 21stbirthday, caution is thrown to the wind as she is thrust upon an adventure that just might set her free.  

 

 

Harrow creates an ingenious multiverse where we find various versions of Sleeping Beauty.  They each may be trapped by a curse, but these princesses are not powerless to fate and don’t need saving by patriarchy.

 

This is a brilliant, modern version of a classic fairy tale reimagined to allow the damsel to be her own heroine with abundant adventure and just the right amount of witty banter and self-reflection.

 

 

Harrow’s writing is consistently compelling, always full of beautiful prose, adept world building, and rich characterization.  Her storytelling pulled me in from the very first page and kept me enrapt until the very last word.  

 

I’m not usually a fan of novellas because I often find they lack the depth I crave.  That is not true of A Spindle Splintered.  Harrow has created a fully complete story with all the details and emotions one would expect from a longer work.  And to say her messaging is on point would be a vast understatement.

 

After a few darker reads, I needed a book I could escape into, and this book provided exactly the adventure and magic I longed for.  I was lost in the multiverse with Zinnia and hated for it to come to an end.  

 

Thank you Alix E. Harrow and Macmillan-Tor for the opportunity to read and review an advanced copy of this book.

 

“Kindness is something that seems small.  But it’s like tossing a pebble into a pond and the ripples reach further than you thought.”

 

A book as beautiful as it’s cover.  Deeply affecting and well written. This ownvoices debut novel quickly drew me in.  As it weaves together Native culture and traditions, mystery, young love, and grief and loss, I was wholly invested in this story. 

 

“Reading allows us to see and understand the world through the eyes of others.” -Chris Riddell

Rich with culture, Boulley’s writing opens a window into life on Sugar Island, allowing us to see  the blessings and challenges of the Ojibwe.  The traditions, the language, the medicine, the strong sense of family, the euchre games at the senior center…I felt as though I was in their midst, enjoying (loving, adoring) and learning (completely enrapt) from each detail.  The legal inconsistencies, the harassment of women, the drug infestation, the tension within the tribe, the tensions that comes from outside the community…I became enraged and disheartened on their behalf, wanting justice and change.  Boulley has well honored her roots in this novel.

 

As a young, biracial woman, Dauny struggles to fit in.  She connects deeply to her Native roots, yet she isn’t quite accepted there, not being a member of the tribe.  As tragedy strikes the Ojibwe, Daunis agrees to become a confidential informant for the FBI. 

 

Dauny is an easy to love character.  She is strong (physically and mentally), incredibly smart (almost to a “nerdy” level), and loves deeply.  Daunis is exactly the female heroine you want to root for.   But Granny June might be my favorite character.  “Everything she says is either raunchy or a quote from a fortune cookie.” Granny June is quick witted yet it’s her wisdom and compassion that stand out. 

 

Ultimately, the mystery wasn’t much of a mystery.  The overall outcome becomes pretty evident early on.  But don’t let that dissuade you.  This is a book you read for the rich culture and adept characterization, both of which are done extraordinarily well.  

 

I’ll be eagerly awaiting Boulley’s next novel for a chance to return to Sugar Island.  

 

A complete triumph.  A literary marvel.

 

I am in awe of what Doerr has accomplished.  Weaving together three separate stories of differing timeframe and genre with one impeccable strand of mythology, Doerr creates something that is both seamless and poignant. 

 

There is good writing.  And then there is this.  This is in a league of its own.

 

Doerr’s messages in this masterpiece are both timeless and necessary for the time we are in:  

🕰 Humanity is, and always has been, connected through time and across generations.  While it often seems that we are small pieces in the grand puzzle, each puzzle piece is necessary to the picture as a whole.  And the effects of our role can be felt both singularly and in the plural of society. 

📚 Great power and solace is harnessed within literature.  As society has struggled through the first pandemic of my lifetime, I have found great comfort in literature.  I loved seeing our main characters respond in the same vein.  The dedication of this book to all librarians is apt and warranted.  

 

At nearly 700 pages, this book is both an experience and a commitment. Doerr adeptly moves between the differing narratives, POV, and timeframes in short vignettes that are well paced and engaging.  That kept me immersed in the novel, allowing me to finish the novel much quicker than anticipated (especially given the chaotic nature of my schedule!).  

 

While I consider this a literary masterpiece, there were portions that became a tad bogged down in detail.  And there was one storyline that didn’t resonate with me to the degree of the others.  However, those minor shortcomings in no way interfered with my overall enjoyment of the book.  To me, this is a work best viewed and critiqued as a whole rather than in the minutiae.  Just as paintings often have minor flaws that can be seen up close yet the overall work reveals beauty and perfection, so is true of this novel.  

 

As I sit writing this review, the world feels dark and heavy.  The world cycles through grim challenges (war, disease, famine and poverty, disinformation, climate change).  As Doerr extrapolates through these stories, it has happened all throughout history, continues now, and will into the future.  But through this novel, I am reminded that hope and connectedness are also timeless and ultimately more powerful than whatever grim circumstances we may face.  

 

Thank you Anthony Doerr, Scribner, and NetGalley for the opportunity to read and review an advanced copy of this book.

 

Completely cheesy and sweet, yet impactful.  This YA book is high on drama and a bit over the top, just like the age group!  The messaging is on point while the storyline is engaging and funny.  It’s earmarked as a superhero story.  But really, it’s about teenagers learning to embrace their eccentricities (adhd, queerness, family dynamics).  

 

I’m not typically a superhero fan, but the world could absolutely use more of this kind of superhero.  Not just the ones doing super human things either.  Ones like these teenagers who band together for good, support each other through thick and think, and overcome obstacles as they learn to believe in themselves.  

 

One of the things I’ve come to love about Klune is his wit.  The banter in this one is on point.  I laughed and snickered and giggled.  Even as Nick deals with inner struggles, Klune manages to add a bit of lightheartedness. 

 

Also of note! The sequel to this book, Flash Fire, just released on July 13 of this year.  

 

Raw, honest,  and beautifully haunting.  This story completed captivated me, and these characters evoked visceral, complex emotion within me.  Dugoni has created a true masterpiece that is a must read.  

 

“Sometimes we know so little, we aren’t even playing the same game as everyone else.”

There comes a time when every boy must become a man.  Peter Pan cannot remain.  But that transition, while crucial, is often ambiguous and uncertain.  One day a boy.  The next a man.  One day carefree.  The next full of weight and responsibility.  There is no manual to guide a person from youth into adulthood.  Or at least there wasn’t until this book.    

 

Dugoni tackles the transition from boyhood into manhood in a heartfelt, poignant, and somber manner.  It’s heartbreaking and hope filled.  As I read, my mind raced with a (long) list of people who *must* read this book…boy moms, men, male teenagers on the verge of adulthood… everyone!  

 

The story is told through three perspectives and timeframes:

-William’s war journals from 1967

-Vincent’s recollections from working alongside William in 1979

-Vincent reading William’s war journal as his son, Beau, passes from boyhood into manhood in 2015

 

Three young men thrust into adulthood: William, Vincent, and Beau.  Each man experiences a vastly different emergence.  Each must battle the weight of new responsibility.  Dugoni expertly crafts these characters.  They are multifaceted, complex, and flawed.  Their emotions are raw and intricate as they flounder through this transition learning to manage the conflict they feel within.  Each character is vivid and real.  I rooted for them, cried alongside them, and didn’t want to let them go at the end of the book.  But I must say, William was my favorite by far.  What a story of redemption and hope! I wanted to thrust myself through the book and give him the biggest hug.   

 

The message of this book is a beautiful and necessary one:

Lives can be impacted for the better through the simple act of kindness.  Often that kindness is nothing more than really listening.  

 

We are a military family.  My husband served honorably until retirement and his war wounds continue to remind him of that service after-the-fact.  He chose his service.  He willingly decided to put self aside for love of country and his fellow man.  I was born after the Vietnam War ended.   As I grew up, I heard stories of the war and what those soldiers, most of which had no choice in the matter, endured.  18 year olds.  Barely out of childhood.  Used and abused by their own country.  Abandoned by those who didn’t agree with their sacrifices.  They never were given the choice my husband was.  Reading William’s account brings life to that unchosen sacrifice.  It well honors those men.  And I am so grateful to Dugoni for bringing their collective story to light, showing the utmost respect for them, and giving them a place of distinction they well deserve.  

 

 

I have the BIGGEST book hangover from this gem.  It’s both the best and worst feeling.  Best because I was able to experience this masterpiece.  Worst because it’s over.  This book will stay with me for a very long time.  

 

Quote worthy:

“Growing old is a privilege, not a right.”

“No situation is hopeless unless we let it be.”

Thank you Robert Dugoni, Lake Union Publishing, and NetGalley for the opportunity to read and review an advanced copy of this book.

 

 

This tense, slow burn, emotion filled mystery kept me intrigued. An old house with secrets. A quirky, rich friend with nothing to lose. An overpowering and manipulative boyfriend with everything to lose. So many possibilities. But what really happened the night 2 young parents go missing? 

This was just the book I needed while on vacation. The quick chapters that changed timeframe and perspective kept me hooked and allowed me to get lost in the story (staying up way too late to read “just another chapter…or two…”). Clues were revealed at a steady pacing to make me feel satisfied with each reveal while still wanting more. And while the outcome wasn’t a surprise, there were enough nuances to keep it engaging, which meant I didn’t feel disappointed. Actually, I was content with the way it all unfolded and wound up. Maybe it was because I was in vacation mode. Maybe it was just good writing…which Jewell is well known for. And the writing definitely flows smoothly and effortlessly in this book. 

This story is rich with characterization, and the characters are all so unique and different. Some I could relate to. Some I wanted to better understand. I found things to love about each one and plenty to hate about a few. 

This book is more mystery than thriller. It has a murky underbelly, but Jewell doesn’t push that darkness to the sinister. There were parts that made me feel claustrophobic or a tad bit on edge, but they were short lived and not entirely menacing or ominous. (Considering this was a vacation read for me, I actually appreciated that.)

Ultimately, this book is about the power of control and the destruction caused by manipulation. That message may be more haunting than the disappearances it unravels. 

Thank you Lisa Jewell, Atria Books, and NetGalley for the opportunity to read and review an advanced copy of this book.

An intimate portrait of three women, grappling with their pasts and unsure about their futures.  Add to that complicated family dynamics, fierce devotion, and sibling rivalry.  It’s pretty much everything you expect of a family- both real and fictional.

 

The three points of view alternate to tell this story.  Each woman is skillfully created and utterly unique.  I adored Gloria, a vibrant woman in her 70s.  Her devotion to life and to taking care of Willow and Sam are equally becoming.  Willow is a breath of fresh air.  She’s absolutely nothing like me…I’m not artistic or a master chef.  But she made me want to be, especially with how she uses those gifts to nurture the people she loves.  And then there’s Sam.  Acerbic and prickly.  Full of jealousy and anger.  Sam was not my favorite.  But I did enjoy watching her evolution.  

 

Overall, this is an easy and enjoyable summer read.  Throw this one in your pool bag. 

 

Thank you Barbara O’Neal, Lake Union Publishing, and NetGalley for the opportunity to read and review an advanced copy of this book.

Bittersweet and poignant.  Such a quirky little book!  

 

On one hand, it feels as though Lucy is sitting right beside me telling me her story. On the other hand, it feels as though I’m an interloper on her very personal thoughts. 

 

Lucy is a bit elusive, not quite friend or confidant.  She’s telling her story, much of which is incredibly personal, but all the while distant.  That juxtaposition between intimate and reserved compelled me to keep reading.  

 

Strout purposely keeps the story vague so as to draw you into your own conclusions.  Sometimes ambiguity doesn’t work well.  But in this case, it allows the ideal platform for reflection, both over Lucy’s circumstances and ones own.   

 

One of the things I loved most about Lucy was her ability to look past the past.  Rather than seeing people through her lens of old hurts, she sees them through a lens of kindness.  A lesson for us all.  

 

Challenging, emotional, relatable.

Ultimately, this is a book about parenthood and love.  About how we love our children SO HARD.  About how we never know if we are making the right choices.  About how we have to let them out into the world even though it’s a harsh place.  I don’t have 5 children or a child that is questioning gender.  But what these parents go through and strive for, they are exactly what every parent deals with, just in a different arena.  

 

This quote perfectly sums up the book for me:

"You never know. You only guess. This is how it always is. You have to make these huge decisions on behalf of your kid, this tiny human whose fate and future is entirely in your hands, who trusts you to know what’s good and right and then to be able to make that happen. You never have enough information. You don’t get to see the future. And if you screw up, if with your incomplete, contradictory information you make the wrong call, well, nothing less than your child’s entire future and happiness is at stake. It’s impossible. It’s heartbreaking. It’s maddening. But there’s no alternative."

 

There are so many lessons to be taken from this book.  It’s a reminder that no matter how different we are externally, we are all the same internally.  What matters is the heart.  What matters is who we are rather than what we are.  It’s also a reminder that every beautiful creation deserves love.  

 

Don’t go into this book focused on the gender dysphoria aspect.  It won’t do you or the story any justice.   This book is SO MUCH more than whether this story is about Poppy or Claude.