I tried to read this back in 2015, and gave up about 100 pages from the end because I found it intolerably boring. My creative writing professor asked our class what we were reading, and I volunteered that I had just DNF Dracula, and he lamented that - he said I was so close to the good part, I couldn’t stop reading there. That, for some reason, has stuck with me, and I decided to retry it this year. I don’t know what he was smoking, but good lord, was he wrong. The final 100 pages were such a drag, I almost put it down once again. Like many books I’ve read this year, I found the opening to be promising and interesting, only to be let down in the second half, by a lag in action or lack of emotional resolution, and this book was no different. The ending was so anticlimatic - among the original horror monster books, Frankenstein is very clearly the superior. 

Yikes. This is one of those books that, in trying to be interesting, becomes uninteresting. I’d say that the first half of the book is very promising, but the lack of answers provided in the second half feels like a huge let-down. That, and the constant and seemingly irrelevant footnote intrusions by the Kerouac-ian editor who is so obsessed with his sex life that I was forgetting what the book was actually about. I have no idea why this book appears on so many “best horror books of all time” lists - I probably won’t be revisiting this anytime soon, but I give it some points for originality, an interesting premise, and the guts to play with the format of a novel (that ultimately didn’t do much for the actual plot of the story). Shoulder shrug. 

While this might not be a book that I keep with me at all times, I enjoyed it well enough. Neil Gaiman is, for sure, a great writer, and many of the stories in here are memorable, especially “Click-Clack the Rattlebag.” While many of these stories I would not really describe as horror, it was great October reading. Unlike “The Anthropocene Reviewed,” where only a few segments were uninteresting, I found that more of this book was just okay. It doesn’t take away any of my respect for Neil Gaiman, however - if you have to write an anthology of short stories, they’re not all going to be winners. 

I was surprised by how much I liked this. I’ve only read Fault in Our Stars by Green, which I liked well-enough, but this hit me a different way. I appreciated that it was fast-paced, as each essay only lasted a few pages, but I was struck by how heartfelt it was, especially that parts of it were written during the pandemic, even in early 2021. It was a strange sensation, hearing an author discuss personal trauma related to the pandemic. I imagine it was the first time of many that I’ll read a non-fiction book that references the pandemic, but seeing it happen for the first time was definitely an experience. Not all of the essays are winners, some are just okay, but I can tell that this book comes from an authentic place in John Green’s heart, and this book earned a permanent place on my desk so that I might flip back through the book and reread some of my favorite essays. 

I’ve seen a few of Mary Downing Hahn’s videos floating around classroom libraries the past few years, but this is the first one I’ve read. As far as middle grade horror goes, this rocks. It’s so rare to find horror for middle schoolers that isn’t too childish, but isn’t too advanced. This hits the spot of being spooky, even scary, but not holding back too much. 

But as an older reader, I had to take a few points off for a really predictable plot and pretty dry characters. I think there could have been some simple tweaks that would have protected the tone and mood of the book while amping up the mystery and plot twists of the story. 

I know that my opinion on this book is affected by the fact that the movie is one of my favorite of all time -it is *impossible* not to compare the book to the movie, especially since I’ve seen it so many times. That being said, I found that the first half of this book was quite exciting and promising, but the second half was glacially slow and boring. I found the stakes to be quite low, the action to be static, and I just didn’t care about the characters as much as I do in the movie. This surprised me because I’ve often enjoyed Crichton’s books, like Next, Congo, among others. I probably won’t be reading this again when, in one of those very rare instances, the movie did it better. 

This was a book that was recommended to me in a bookstore in Alaska when I asked, “If I were to read one book about Alaska while I’m here, which ones would you recommend?” The answer was more complicated than “Read this one,” because like anything, the state and culture of Alaska contains infinite multitudes. But this was recommended to me when I said I wanted a book about nature. This was a slow-paced book, and not in a bad way. Similar to “The Sound of a Wild Snail Eating,” this is a book for a snowy day. I can imagine myself pulling this book from its permanent place on my desk on a snow day, wishing for something slow, enjoyable, with beautiful writing and a lot of heart. If you’re looking for poetic prose about nature in Alaska, this is a great choice if you’re burnt out on John Muir. 

I’ve waited a few months to read this, and I think I’ve softened on my 4-star rating. Initially, during my reading experience, I was incredibly frustrated with McCandless. He seemed too easily susceptible to a lifestyle where a simple mistake could kill you, and I didn’t like the author shrugging his shoulders and saying, “Huh, was he a role model who made a mistake, or a dumb kid who never should have gone to live in the wilderness alone?” To me, the answer seemed obvious. I know people look up to McCandless, so much so that the famous bus had to be moved. But the story read to me as a tragedy, someone who never should been in that situation in the first place. That being said, it was a fast and compelling read that makes me want to read more of Krakauer’s accounts, like Into Thin Air. 

I read this book over the course of a plane ride to Seattle - it was a gift from an awesome friend, and we were really interested in the title. This book gave me such warm vibes; it feels like a “rainy day” book. A book you know that you’ll enjoy, one that you can take slowly, one that you can savor. It’s earned a permanent spot on my desk because of how much I appreciate the care in its language and its subject matter. The only critique I have is that I wish it lasted longer :) 

I’ve loved other McCarthy books, but this book lacks a serious narrative question. Instead of wondering what will happen next, I just find myself wondering IF anything will happen next. The book is Beckettian not only in the dry language (which I don’t mind), but in the fact that nothing really happens and the characters just mill about from place to place. But in Beckett’s work, that’s the whole point. Here, it’s earnestly trying to show a lack of interesting plot for the sake of it. I really wanted to finish it today, but when the last quarter of the book began with the protagonist pursuing a fling character that was never developed, I knew this wasn’t ending well for me. I really struggled to find any serious theme that the book grapples with, like other McCarthy books do so well.