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chronicallybookish's Reviews (1.53k)
Quick Stats
Age Rating: 13/14+
Over All: 4.25 stars
Plot: 3.5/5
Characters: 4.5/5
Setting: 5/5
Writing: 4.5/5
Special thanks to FierceReads and NetGalley for an eARC of this book! All thoughts and opinions reflected in this review are my own.
A Rapunzel-inspired dark fantasy set in the world of Alexandra Christo’s bestselling To Kill a Kingdom. Um, yes please!
I adored TKaK, but was unable to get through Christo’s sophomore novel (I believe I DNFed it at about 20%), so I was a little apprehensive about this one, but I was excited to see that it was in first person. I think that’s where her strengths lie.
This book started off so strong. It had a phenomenal hook, and the first quarter of the book was fast paced, twisted and dark, and so unique. Those things together made it un-put-down-able. Though I continued to enjoy the book, and never felt the desire to DNF, after that 25% mark, the book started to slow down. There were always moments of tension, and I adored the characters throughout, but the thread of the plot started to feel a little lost. In the end (let’s say the last 10%), the pace picked up again and I started to get wholly invested again, however, with the shift in the plot and the weaker middle section, the beginning to the ending didn’t quite feel cohesive.
I think the “Rapunzel” comparison did the book a disservice. The book has basically none of the requisite Rapunzel plotlines. The main character is a pseudo prisoner who has long hair (but not that long. Like, waistlength), who leaves her “tower” with a guy. There is no Rapunzel flower/herb, there is no kidnappping (Selestra’s mom is evil, but she’s her actual mom), there’s no tall secluded tower. Selestra isn’t allowed to leave the castle, true, but she is able to interact with anyone who lives in or visits the palace.
The only part of the books that ever made me think about Rapunzel were the far too numerous “tongue in cheek” jokes from the love interest. I’m pretty sure he made the “If your hair was just a little longer, we could use it to climb down!” joke a half dozen times. No, I’m not exaggerating.
The main selling point of this novel was, in my opinion, the characters. I was expecting Selestra to be very morally gray FMC with dark powers, and I was almost apprehensive when she wasn’t. I feel like, most of the time when you have a character (especially a girl) with dark, evil powers, there are only two personality options: badass morally gray girl who will do whatever it takes with no remorse (a la Jude Duarte) or someone who is so afraid of their own power that they spend all their time whining about it and refusing to use it. I like the first one (so long as she is more than just that 2-D archetype); I hate the second one.
Selestra is more the second girl, but I really liked Alexandra Christo’s take on it. Selestra hates her powers, the innate evil that is stealing someone’s soul to give someone immortality. However, she is willing to do what it takes when necessary. Her internal conflict surrounding her powers felt so 3 dimensional and realistic. I think it is probably the most relatable take on “what if I had sorta evil powers” in comparison to how I, personally, think I would react to that scenario.
Nox, conversely, is a man with a mission. Yes, it’s a noble one, but he’s a little more morally gray in terms of the lengths he’d go to accomplish it. And also I loved him (except for his horrid Rapunzel jokes).
The side characters were fun and loveable, though I wish they’d had a little more development.
This was a thoroughly enjoyable book. Much better than the author’s sophomore novel and it’s sequel, though not quite as amazing as her debut. I highly highly recommend this one if you liked To Kill a Kingdom, or even if you didn’t, since the story and characters are unique.
Age Rating: 13/14+
Over All: 4.25 stars
Plot: 3.5/5
Characters: 4.5/5
Setting: 5/5
Writing: 4.5/5
Special thanks to FierceReads and NetGalley for an eARC of this book! All thoughts and opinions reflected in this review are my own.
A Rapunzel-inspired dark fantasy set in the world of Alexandra Christo’s bestselling To Kill a Kingdom. Um, yes please!
I adored TKaK, but was unable to get through Christo’s sophomore novel (I believe I DNFed it at about 20%), so I was a little apprehensive about this one, but I was excited to see that it was in first person. I think that’s where her strengths lie.
This book started off so strong. It had a phenomenal hook, and the first quarter of the book was fast paced, twisted and dark, and so unique. Those things together made it un-put-down-able. Though I continued to enjoy the book, and never felt the desire to DNF, after that 25% mark, the book started to slow down. There were always moments of tension, and I adored the characters throughout, but the thread of the plot started to feel a little lost. In the end (let’s say the last 10%), the pace picked up again and I started to get wholly invested again, however, with the shift in the plot and the weaker middle section, the beginning to the ending didn’t quite feel cohesive.
I think the “Rapunzel” comparison did the book a disservice. The book has basically none of the requisite Rapunzel plotlines. The main character is a pseudo prisoner who has long hair (but not that long. Like, waistlength), who leaves her “tower” with a guy. There is no Rapunzel flower/herb, there is no kidnappping (Selestra’s mom is evil, but she’s her actual mom), there’s no tall secluded tower. Selestra isn’t allowed to leave the castle, true, but she is able to interact with anyone who lives in or visits the palace.
The only part of the books that ever made me think about Rapunzel were the far too numerous “tongue in cheek” jokes from the love interest. I’m pretty sure he made the “If your hair was just a little longer, we could use it to climb down!” joke a half dozen times. No, I’m not exaggerating.
The main selling point of this novel was, in my opinion, the characters. I was expecting Selestra to be very morally gray FMC with dark powers, and I was almost apprehensive when she wasn’t. I feel like, most of the time when you have a character (especially a girl) with dark, evil powers, there are only two personality options: badass morally gray girl who will do whatever it takes with no remorse (a la Jude Duarte) or someone who is so afraid of their own power that they spend all their time whining about it and refusing to use it. I like the first one (so long as she is more than just that 2-D archetype); I hate the second one.
Selestra is more the second girl, but I really liked Alexandra Christo’s take on it. Selestra hates her powers, the innate evil that is stealing someone’s soul to give someone immortality. However, she is willing to do what it takes when necessary. Her internal conflict surrounding her powers felt so 3 dimensional and realistic. I think it is probably the most relatable take on “what if I had sorta evil powers” in comparison to how I, personally, think I would react to that scenario.
Nox, conversely, is a man with a mission. Yes, it’s a noble one, but he’s a little more morally gray in terms of the lengths he’d go to accomplish it. And also I loved him (except for his horrid Rapunzel jokes).
The side characters were fun and loveable, though I wish they’d had a little more development.
This was a thoroughly enjoyable book. Much better than the author’s sophomore novel and it’s sequel, though not quite as amazing as her debut. I highly highly recommend this one if you liked To Kill a Kingdom, or even if you didn’t, since the story and characters are unique.
4.5 stars
Oh where do I start??? This book was BEAUTIFUL and HEARTBREAKING and I don’t even know how to describe it! If you haven’t read this book, you need to!!
Trigger warning: depression, suicide
Oh where do I start??? This book was BEAUTIFUL and HEARTBREAKING and I don’t even know how to describe it! If you haven’t read this book, you need to!!
Trigger warning: depression, suicide
Quick Stats
Age Rating: 14+
Over All: 5 stars
Plot: 3/5
Characters: 4/5
Setting: 4/5
Writing: 3/5
Disability Rep: 10/5
PANS REP PANS REP PANS REP PANS REP
There are so many different things that I want to say about this book, and so many different ways that I could take this review, but to start I’m going to elaborate on my rating
This book means the absolute world to me. I was diagnosed with PANS (a form of autoimmune encephalitis) at 15. It’s a shockingly common autoimmune disorder considering no one has ever heard of it, suspected to effect 1/200 adolescents, however it was only officially recognized in 2013, which means the resources regarding it are extremely anemic, and the media representation is wholly nonexistent. I never expected to read a book with PANS representation unless I was the one to write it.
PANS is one of the biggest parts of my life. Everything in my life has been impacted by it. I am who I am because of PANS. I cannot begin to express how seeing that represented in a book has meant to me.
(I’m not crying as I type this. Nope. Definitely not me.)
Due to the onset of both the author and character’s PANS being after adulthood, PANS is most often referred to as encephalitis induced OCD (the P in PANS stands for pediatric, as most cases are first triggered in childhood, but that is not a requirement for the disorder).
The book itself, outside of the PANS rep, was okay. It was good. I really liked the characters and their relationships, but the writing wasn’t the best and the mystery was never much of a mystery at all. I really enjoyed the romance, especially the asexuality aspect.
Basically—you need to read this book. It is incredibly important. But don’t go in expecting a literary masterpiece. You will get a book with incredible chronic illness representation and a cute romance, and I truly believe that everyone would benefit from reading this book.
--
Full review to come, but for now:
PANS REP PANS REP PANS REP!!!
This is an adult romance, but outside of the mystery element, there aren’t really any mature themes, so I’d say it’s okay for 14+
Age Rating: 14+
Over All: 5 stars
Plot: 3/5
Characters: 4/5
Setting: 4/5
Writing: 3/5
Disability Rep: 10/5
PANS REP PANS REP PANS REP PANS REP
There are so many different things that I want to say about this book, and so many different ways that I could take this review, but to start I’m going to elaborate on my rating
This book means the absolute world to me. I was diagnosed with PANS (a form of autoimmune encephalitis) at 15. It’s a shockingly common autoimmune disorder considering no one has ever heard of it, suspected to effect 1/200 adolescents, however it was only officially recognized in 2013, which means the resources regarding it are extremely anemic, and the media representation is wholly nonexistent. I never expected to read a book with PANS representation unless I was the one to write it.
PANS is one of the biggest parts of my life. Everything in my life has been impacted by it. I am who I am because of PANS. I cannot begin to express how seeing that represented in a book has meant to me.
(I’m not crying as I type this. Nope. Definitely not me.)
Due to the onset of both the author and character’s PANS being after adulthood, PANS is most often referred to as encephalitis induced OCD (the P in PANS stands for pediatric, as most cases are first triggered in childhood, but that is not a requirement for the disorder).
The book itself, outside of the PANS rep, was okay. It was good. I really liked the characters and their relationships, but the writing wasn’t the best and the mystery was never much of a mystery at all. I really enjoyed the romance, especially the asexuality aspect.
Basically—you need to read this book. It is incredibly important. But don’t go in expecting a literary masterpiece. You will get a book with incredible chronic illness representation and a cute romance, and I truly believe that everyone would benefit from reading this book.
--
Full review to come, but for now:
PANS REP PANS REP PANS REP!!!
This is an adult romance, but outside of the mystery element, there aren’t really any mature themes, so I’d say it’s okay for 14+
Quick Stats
Age Rating: 9+
Over All: 4.25 stars
Plot: 3.5/5
Characters: 4/5 (MC is 5/5, everyone else is like 3.5/5)
Setting: 4/5
Writing: 3.5/5
Disability Rep: 5/5
This book was a quick but very meaningful read. There is so much heart in this book.
Rachel was a relatable, realistic narrator. I honestly don’t know how Alison Gerber managed to capture the voice of a 12 year old so precisely. Reading Rachel’s narration genuinely felt like jumping into my own pre-teen head as I learned to come to terms with my own disabilities. There were multiple points where I got teary-eyed. I might not have scoliosis, but the isolating aspects of being disabled at that age are universal, and it was so healing to my inner child to read about someone else feeling those feelings.
Unlike Rachel, my mom has always been my ultimate supporter. Maybe that’s why I couldn’t stand reading the interactions between the two of them. Her mom just came off as too flat and emotionless. It didn’t make sense to me. I felt like I needed to see more of her motivation—especially as we are eventually supposed to forgive and empathize with her.
Even when we did get that moment of opening up and explanations… it just didn’t ring true. I still couldn’t understand how she had so clearly missed everything that her daughter was feeling? Her apathy before that moment was far too extreme compared to her reasonings, and the abrupt shift in personality and actions (albeit for the better) after that moment gave me whiplash and also felt unrealistic.
There was so much emphasis in that point of the book on Rachel explaining herself better. On “talking things out”, as if she hadn’t already been doing that. From my perception, the issue was never Rachel not explaining herself. It was that no one listened to her.
Like, when Rachel has that talk with her mom, her mom is like “I didn’t know,” and the emphasis is on Rachel finally explaining herself… as if she hadn’t already been actively saying all of these things before. She was actively saying, I hate this thing, it hurts, it makes me look weird, kids stare at me, etc. Like those sentiments were made via dialogue, plus she was indirectly communicating with tears and fighting and slammed doors… It was all so blatantly obvious, and yet the blame ended up put on her for not communicating. That was infuriating. And that messaging, that its all on the disabled kids’ shoulders to be super well articulated about these incredibly hard, confusing things doesn’t sit right with me.
However, all of the representation outside of that was phenomenal, and I think this book would do amazingly at helping disabled tweens—especially those with scoliosis—feel less alone, and I think the good aspects do well outweigh the negative. I defintiely do recommend this book, however I also think that when you read it, you should keep in mind that making it the literal child’s responsibility to communicate in a way that the adult finds acceptable in order to be taken seriously. Disability is an incredibly emotionally volatile experience, and to say that our needs and feelings should only be taken seriously when we are able to say them precisely and calmly is incredibly problematic. While I doubt that was the author’s intended message, it does come off that way, and it’s something you should be mindful of while reading.
Age Rating: 9+
Over All: 4.25 stars
Plot: 3.5/5
Characters: 4/5 (MC is 5/5, everyone else is like 3.5/5)
Setting: 4/5
Writing: 3.5/5
Disability Rep: 5/5
This book was a quick but very meaningful read. There is so much heart in this book.
Rachel was a relatable, realistic narrator. I honestly don’t know how Alison Gerber managed to capture the voice of a 12 year old so precisely. Reading Rachel’s narration genuinely felt like jumping into my own pre-teen head as I learned to come to terms with my own disabilities. There were multiple points where I got teary-eyed. I might not have scoliosis, but the isolating aspects of being disabled at that age are universal, and it was so healing to my inner child to read about someone else feeling those feelings.
Unlike Rachel, my mom has always been my ultimate supporter. Maybe that’s why I couldn’t stand reading the interactions between the two of them. Her mom just came off as too flat and emotionless. It didn’t make sense to me. I felt like I needed to see more of her motivation—especially as we are eventually supposed to forgive and empathize with her.
Even when we did get that moment of opening up and explanations… it just didn’t ring true. I still couldn’t understand how she had so clearly missed everything that her daughter was feeling? Her apathy before that moment was far too extreme compared to her reasonings, and the abrupt shift in personality and actions (albeit for the better) after that moment gave me whiplash and also felt unrealistic.
There was so much emphasis in that point of the book on Rachel explaining herself better. On “talking things out”, as if she hadn’t already been doing that. From my perception, the issue was never Rachel not explaining herself. It was that no one listened to her.
Like, when Rachel has that talk with her mom, her mom is like “I didn’t know,” and the emphasis is on Rachel finally explaining herself… as if she hadn’t already been actively saying all of these things before. She was actively saying, I hate this thing, it hurts, it makes me look weird, kids stare at me, etc. Like those sentiments were made via dialogue, plus she was indirectly communicating with tears and fighting and slammed doors… It was all so blatantly obvious, and yet the blame ended up put on her for not communicating. That was infuriating. And that messaging, that its all on the disabled kids’ shoulders to be super well articulated about these incredibly hard, confusing things doesn’t sit right with me.
However, all of the representation outside of that was phenomenal, and I think this book would do amazingly at helping disabled tweens—especially those with scoliosis—feel less alone, and I think the good aspects do well outweigh the negative. I defintiely do recommend this book, however I also think that when you read it, you should keep in mind that making it the literal child’s responsibility to communicate in a way that the adult finds acceptable in order to be taken seriously. Disability is an incredibly emotionally volatile experience, and to say that our needs and feelings should only be taken seriously when we are able to say them precisely and calmly is incredibly problematic. While I doubt that was the author’s intended message, it does come off that way, and it’s something you should be mindful of while reading.
