2.5 stars. From the synopsis, I expected The Holiday Treatment to be a rom-com about making a gay Christmas movie, but unfortunately there are no on-set hijinks, no drama in front of and behind the camera, no filming in picturesque locations. If anyone knows if that book exists, please let me know.

In the meantime, we have this book, which is about a forbidden workplace fling and the year of longing and secret dating that happens afterward. I had a hard time rooting for Holly and Meredith's relationship. It's ill-advised thanks to the professional power imbalance, it's unfair to Holly, and its problems are never solved in practical ways that the reader gets to see. After a certain point, the problems are just never mentioned again.

For me, the best parts were the scenes with Holly's found family at her apartment complex. It was fun to witness their shared friendship, humor, and support of one another.

All of the things that I loved about Hailey Piper's writing in The Worm and His Kings is on full display in Queen of Teeth: the wit, the centering of queerness, and the visceral gross-outs that don't rely on simple violence and mutilation to be disturbing.

But this book is very much its own monster. It follows Yaya as her body--already a contested ground as she has a genetic condition that means a pharmaceutical company owns half of her DNA as intellectual property--begins rapidly transforming into something else, something with teeth, and tentacles, and its own consciousness. It's kind of like the movie Teeth (you know the one) mixed with Venom, and it's a fun ride with sad implications.

This was my second Hailey Piper book this month, and at this point, I think I'll read anything she writes. Her voice feels like a trustworthy one, and she can hit all the notes that make horror uniquely escapist and comforting for me. It's not gentle, but it's kind.

Okay, I'm realizing that historical sapphic romances are a huge component of my bookish wheelhouse, and this one was pretty much perfect for me. Told in graphic novel format, it follows an interracial, working class couple of women in early 20th Century England, from their first meeting through years of their relationship, as they strive to find independence, rewarding work, and a supportive community while loving one another. Searle also deals with issues like the fetishization and racism Esther faces while living in an almost entirely white social milieu, or the strains of poverty with which Patience grew up, but she does so in ways that don't make the story entirely about suffering. If you want a story with lesbians ending up happy, you get that here.

I also can't express enough how much I love the bonus story that updates Esther and Patience, situating them in the modern day as a married couple trying to figure out how to prioritize their time as wives and as individuals.

My girlfriend gave me Mort for Christmas after seeing how much I enjoyed Hogfather, and well, I guess now is finally the right time for this series to really hit me. It's like all of the free-floating fandom that's been in my heart since J. K. Rowling started having loud opinions about trans people has finally found something to latch onto, and that thing is Discworld.

Feels appropriate to close 2021 with a book that concludes with its main character falling off the edge of the world into the unknown.

Here you get to see Rincewind and Twoflower transformed by their trials from reluctant traveling companions to friends who understand one another more than they could ever have been expected to. It's still a romp, but one with a more unified plot and greater emotional payoff than its predecessor.

A YA graphic novel that's a little bit Mean Girls, a little bit Ginger Snaps, with plenty of toxic friendships, werewolf girls eating sex pests at parties, and questionable morality. Squad gets billed as a straightforward smash-the-patriarchy, male-tears kind of story, which ignores more nuanced questions like "Who gets to decide who's worthy of life?" and "Am I supposed to endorse what these girls are doing, actually?" that I think are worth asking. From what I've seen, plenty of readers have no problem ignoring these questions. But whatever Squad might lack in a more explicit and in-depth consideration of the shortcomings of punitive justice, it doesn't lack for style, snarky black comedy, or girls kissing. So it's a fun read.

Not to belittle the first two installments, but there is a noticeable improvement in the writing quality with Equal Rites. From the first page it just clicks and feels like Pratchett had found more of his voice, and I can't help but wonder whether that's to do with him being able to write full-time and dedicate the attention and polish to his writing that it needed to truly shine. Looking forward to more of the witches.

In some ways this felt to me like The Color of Magic again, but with more ideas about power and more opportunities for Rincewind to be a hero (reluctantly, and against his rodentlike nature and inclination towards self-preservation). Not-my-favorite-Discworld is still better than a host of other books out there, so I enjoyed Sourcery even as I suspected that I'm one of the many who aren't particularly enamored of the Rincewind books. (By far my favorite part of this one was the Librarian. He's delightful.)

A mixed bag that displays Piper’s imagination, range, and empathy throughout. “Recitation of the First Feeding” blew me away.