This book reads like the early draft of a memoir, sketchy lines the fretwork of a life longing to be examined. And I suppose it it, just in visual form. It's sweet and leaves an impact but its brevity doesn't allow for much. It doesn't waste a page, that is certain.

I listened to this book in audiobook and I think the author reading it was a great personal touch. Sometimes, it was hard to remember if the content at hand was the author or the letter writer but that's likely a me problem. This is a sweet book and it makes me feel less alone in my identity. It's my first from the author, so I don't have a baseline on which to compare. Still, it's not nearly my favorite book I read this year, but it is an admirable project.

Small is a talented and ardent illustrator. I can't imagine the time it takes to create such a masterpiece. It's a careful portrait of a complex family system and young adulthood. I appreciate Small's dedication to giving most characters a detailed portrait, despite and alongside the trauma they caused. This is one of my favorite books, I tear through it a few times a year. It means a lot to me and I think it touches every reader in a different way.

I am obviously not the book's target audience, but I appreciated it nonetheless. It does a good job of holding the (mostly young) hand of the reader and guiding them toward a more compassionate view of trans and gay people. It doesn't transcend into PSA territory, but the plot is not incredibly structured or visible. It is a little experimental with the motif of ghosts but is mostly just a sweet, simple kids book.

This is the second time I've read "The Bell Jar," and I feel I more appreciated it this time. I recently came across the movie adaptation of "The Miseducation of Cameron Post" and was reminded of my initial gripe with it, that being that the movie strips away the first 2/3 of the book where we get to know Cameron and her irreverence and relationship and dynamism and places you right in the conversion camp. I forgot how about 2/3 of "The Bell Jar" takes place before the asylum. I think first reading it as an institutionalized teen, I felt eager to get to the "post-crack-up" phase, underappreciating the build-up of again: Esther's irreverence and relationships (with Buddy and peripheral characters) and dynamism. This is all to say that Plath's novel is brilliantly structured and felt to draw you into the downward spiral that is depression and, eventually, suicidality. Esther is a laugh-out-loud character; she's relatable and hilarious. "The Bell Jar" is surrounded by significant tragedy due to Plath's own struggle and death, but I'd dare you to call it doleful. It's a frisky little foray into the psyche.

This book lends voice to the conundrum of the insidious balance of nature versus nurture, and whether we really are more than a sum of our actions. Lavender and Hazel were more compelling narrators than Saffy but all felt fully realized. Ansel was the most interesting character to inhabit and had the most verve and stylism to his perspective. I was never very engaged with this book and just kind of hung along until it ended. It had a lot of potential but felt fairly novice, like the debut of a true crime fanatic.

I'm not usually a horror aficionado but I enjoyed this book. It's well written and experimental and a slow burn. We don't get to see much of Leah's character but the bits we do are powerful, she's compelling. It's hard not to feel bad for Miri but she holds her own amongst the tumult. It's a book that burns to a predictable non-ending. It's sweet and profound in quiet moments but I left wondering what the author wanted you to come away with.

Slater does an admirable job of casting a broad picture of both victims. Victims of circumstance, victims of tomfoolery, victims of a world unwilling to stare with all three eyes open. This is a case that predates my news awareness, but I appreciate Slater's careful consideration and usage of Sasha and other's correct pronouns and identity labels. This is a story of unlikely victory. Also, as a autistic genderqueer person with a special interest in urban planning, this felt special.

This book is engaging, infuriating, and haunting. Russell's Vanessa is tragic character in circumstance but triumphant character in constitution. She has an intricate inner world full of contradictions and shame and the very human desire to want to make meaning out of something that swallows your life. Strane is also a labyrinthine figure, looming and somewhat sympathetic through the eyes of an abused kid. The central question in the book is complicity. Is Vanessa an active participant as she'd so like to believe? How responsible is Browick, is her mother? How responsible is a culture that turns young girls into nymphets? How responsible are journalists and the general culture of the "Me Too" movement in re-traumatizing victims? I was captivated by this book and its portrait. Russell is a strong writer and I hope she continues to expand her craft.

Lo is a writer I've had my eye on for quite a few years. "Last Night at the Telegraph Club" feels like a culmination. I'm a sucker for queer history so I found joy in the way she padded out 50's San Francisco, particularly its Chinatown as that's where the book mainly takes place. Lily as a character feels slightly bland, more of a vessel for the story instead of a driver of it. Still, in some moments she was strikingly bold. Kath, Shirley, Tommy, and other characters did have life to them that I appreciated. Kath and Lily's romance was earnest and sweet and the epilogue was hopeful in a way a lot of queer romances of the time were not. I think this book is a little young for me but Lo did a bang-up job and I hope it resonates with LGBT+ teens today and cultivates an appreciation for our siblings of yesteryear.