A twisty, dual-timeline mystery set at a hella haunted motel. I had been meaning to read this for awhile, and this was precisely the right time: the part of summer where I crave a good scare maybe more than any other time of the year. I was sucked in from the first chapter and happily sped through page after page, kinda wishing I could work the night shift at a spooky motel… but maybe not the Sun Down.

The conclusion of a story arc that picks up right after the show’s finale and gives some satisfying closure. As a Zhu Li stan, I approve.

Excellent ending.

Pretty art and character design, a cute if simple plot, more than one queer couple, and none of the implication that lesbianism is just a passing phase that happens in some yuri, all of which make this a great fluffy comfort read. I only wish it were a longer series and that we had gotten to see more character development and subplots with the secondary characters. What’s there is tied up nicely, but I want more.

The parts of this book that don’t work for me don’t work because I’m very far left and very much a lesbian, so I do not share Danica’s faith in the Democratic party, nor do I understand her decisions re: what to do when a guy follows you to your car and asks to make out with you. (That anecdote was incredibly stressful for me to read because it seemed obvious to me that Danica was in danger, and I think it could be distressing to other readers, too.) The parts that do work for me prompted me to give Lacuna Coil a listen.

I continue to enjoy the irascible Agatha Raisin and her bumbling schemes. She’s no great detective, but her knack for stumbling upon the right clue is entertaining, nonetheless.

"Oh," I thought, when I read the synopsis for this book, "it's Paper Towns, but make it gay." And yeah, I Kissed Shara Wheeler kinda is Paper Towns but make it gay, but it makes it gay in an expansive, big-hearted, updated way that is absolutely worth reading. This is the book and the high school experience I wish I'd had, but didn't for various reasons, mostly being in high school between 2003-2007 (when books like this did not exist) and being poor white trash (and thus the idea that I would even apply to NYU was so laughable as to be shut down by my parents immediately). I liked the mystery and the twists, I liked the characters with their flaws and preoccupations, I liked getting all misty-eyed over the ending and the acknowledgements, and I guess overall I forgive how goddamn old reading this made me feel.

We've well established that I adore queer historical romance, but shockingly this novella is my first Cat Sebastian. She packs in a ton of plot and character development, without anything feeling rushed or undercooked, and I loved the focus on the characters' material conditions and the awareness of how precarious their positions are, which makes their growing independence and control over their own lives all the sweeter.

I’ve shelved M. C. Beaton’s books countless times over my years working in libraries, and I always assumed that they were stodgy and boring. Over the past year, though, my interest in mystery and crime fiction has grown, and I decided to give the Agatha Raisin series a try. What I found was a funny fish-out-of-water story with a delightfully crotchety heroine who, in the way of many a cozy, stumbles into solving a murder soon after retiring (very early, Agatha would stress) to a cottage in the Cotswolds. This is a not-so-cozy cozy, and Agatha isn’t shy about telling her new neighbors to bugger off when she’s annoyed, which makes this a good pick for readers who might lack patience for the perhaps unrealistically likable sleuths in some other series. Before I’d even finished this one, I checked the next four out from the library, and with plenty more to go I’m looking forward to a long stay in the world of Agatha Raisin.

I had a positive impression of Kim Kelly from an appearance of hers on the Majority Report, so when I saw that she had written a book about labor history, I was really excited to read it. The labor movement is something that I've wanted to know more about for a few years now, but I wasn't sure where to start. As Kelly's book demonstrates, it's a long and storied history, and tackling it all is an ambitious undertaking. But she tackles it well, and in so doing makes sure to include workers whose contributions have often been overlooked on the basis of race, gender, sexual orientation, or profession (such as sex workers). Her portrait of unions and the people driving organization efforts is often laudatory, but she makes room for criticism of moments when unions have failed or actively excluded marginalized workers, too, and I appreciate this complexity. Highlights for me include her discussion of the power of flight attendants' organizing efforts and the major role that queer flight attendants have played, and her coverage of how forced labor in prisons exploits incarcerated workers. Fight Like Hell is both an infuriating and empowering read.