howlinglibraries's Reviews (1.85k)

This anthology is a tough one for me to rate. If I were reviewing it based solely on the nature of the work—this book about intersectional feminism, equality and equity, and fighting back against a society that perpetuates things like treating women and nonbinary people as less than men (and women/nonbinary people from marginalized communities as lesser, still)—it would be a 5-star read, with no hesitation.

We are living in a cultural battleground where, for many of us, our very identities seem to be under attack.

Unfortunately, the execution of the collection leaves a bit to be desired, and if I were rating it exclusively on my enjoyment, it would be 3-star worthy (hence my compromise at 4 stars in the end). One of the problems that I found was that, frankly, the collection feels repetitive by the end of it. If I’d read one essay a day, maybe this wouldn’t have been an issue, but as it stands, I read this in two days, and was feeling by the end as though I was rereading earlier pieces.

These boys and men are ghosts. None of them have edges. They bleed into one another. They are the same.

My enjoyment for the collection as a whole dropped in the final third, where we had one story in particular from an author who has already proven herself not to be an intersectional ally of people of color, yet spent far too many pages explaining her privileged upbringing and humble-bragging about what a great activist she considers herself to be. It felt like a bold, unintentional reminder of why allocishet white women need to stop being what this society accepts as “the face of feminism”.

He was always blond. Except, somehow, when He was on the cross. Only in the moment of His deepest suffering did artists consider He might have walked this earth as a dark-haired, brown-skinned man.

Of course, there were some real gems in the collection, like Anna-Marie McLemore’s; I always love the way she has with words, and her descriptions of how difficult it was to grow up religious in a world where her deity was whitewashed by the masses was incredibly insightful to me, as a white former Christian who never had to deal with those devastating thoughts as a child. I was also particularly fond of Sandhya Menon’s bit on immigrating from India, Julie Murphy’s story that managed to weave fat rep and recognizing that her privileges as a white woman still protected her despite her size, and Amy Reed’s devastating recounting of sexual assault.

All in all, while this was certainly not the best nonfiction anthology I’ve read, it’s still definitely worth a read (though you can probably skip Ellen Hopkins’ story with no harm done, to be fair). Especially if you are a person who sits in a great place of privilege, the greatest thing about this collection—and the reason I am still giving it 4 stars—is that I do think it has a great deal to offer in the ways of encouraging intersectionality, which is something we can never have too much of.

All quotes come from an advance copy and may not match the final release. Thank you so much to Simon Pulse for providing me with this ARC in exchange for an honest review!

You can find this review and more on my blog, or you can follow me on twitter, bookstagram, or facebook!

When I read Dear Martin from this author last year, I enjoyed it and found the plot important enough to give it a high rating, but something about it didn’t quite “click” with me, so I was super apprehensive about reading Odd One Out. On one hand, I was wary that it, like its predecessor, would leave me feeling as though something was missing—on the other hand, with such a diverse cast, my hopes couldn’t help but ride high.

Unfortunately, this was simply not an enjoyable reading experience at all. Stone’s writing voice feels so unrealistic and awkward and strange to me. I constantly caught myself thinking that the way she phrased things just didn’t make sense, and sure, that might sound like a trivial complaint, but when it happens over and over throughout the entire story, it’s worth noting. Plus, there are all these really cringe-y moments, like Jupes referring to being aroused as “feeling strangeness down in my secret place” and various other weird, overly childish phrasing. And there are a few places where the writing literally uses action quotes to depict actions (yes, as in, “**eyes bulge out of head**”—direct quote).

This book takes place in three “parts”, with each part being in the perspective of a different character. There’s Courtney/“Cooper”, the cishet black athlete and male cheerleader, who is pretty fun—not too many issues here besides some general “teen boy” horniness. Then there’s Rae, the Irish/East Asian questioning new girl in town. I couldn’t stand a single chapter of Rae’s perspective. The level of self-obsession and childishness in her narrative made me want to DNF this book so badly.

Finally, there’s Jupiter/Jupes, Cooper’s lesbian black/Latinx childhood best friend. Jupes’ perspective starts off in second person and suddenly switches to first person, which is just a tremendous pet peeve of mine. More importantly, though, she’s so hung up on her label that she treats people like garbage when she gets confused. Don’t get me wrong, we need questioning rep in queer books, but when it causes this much harm to the people around the questioning character, it’s hard to enjoy.

On top of that, while Jupes has some great internal monologue surrounding labels and how nuanced sexuality is, there are some moments that made me, as a bi woman, extremely uncomfortable. I don’t want to go into it all here, because I think this is one of those things where some people will be hurt and some won’t, but the casual bi-erasure in the first half, and constant questioning of whether or not bi people are “allowed” to be attracted to trans people in the second half, was exhausting. Oh, and can we talk about the lesbian character who literally states, “I don’t mess with bisexual girls … Enough girls leave you for dudes, and you learn to keep your distance” AND ISN’T EVEN CALLED OUT FOR IT? NOT EVEN FOR A SECOND? This is hurtful and the least you could do is challenge it in the text.

Finally, the last thing I want to talk about is a little bit SPOILERY:

SPOILERS START HERE:

We are led to believe through the entire book that there’s going to be a polyamorous relationship by the end of it, but that falls flat in the end. Despite all three kids spending the whole freaking book whining about how they’re each in love with the other two, in the end, two of them pair off while the other one goes off to do their own thing, and it felt so freaking queerbaiting for polyam rep that I was stunned. I mean, all of the characters even have their own respective fantasies about them all being together in the end, but it’s not even considered as an option! I don’t know, it just felt poorly done and gross to me.

SPOILERS END

All in all, this was just such a disappointing read for me, and all of the fantastic diverse rep in the world couldn’t save it from hurtful moments, a forced and uncomfortable ending, and really unlikable writing from start to finish. This book will absolutely have its fans, but I can’t say I’m one of them, nor will I likely be recommending this book to any friends seeking out good queer rep in the future.

ETA: I forgot to mention in my original review, but the last issue I want to point out is that this book has some pretty unhealthy age gaps in the relationships. Rae is 15, while Cooper is 18, which isn't even legal here in Georgia, where the book takes place. Another character is 16, almost 17, when she decides she wants to sleep with a woman in her 20s. The older woman refuses her over and over and the 16-year-old BEGS her and wears her down through pleading, whining, etc., until the woman finally gives in and they have sex. Again, super not legal, super creepy.

Content warnings for homophobia, slurs, kissing without consent, biphobia (not always challenged)

All quotes come from an advance copy and may not match the final release. Thank you so much to Crown Books for Young Readers for providing me with this ARC in exchange for an honest review!

You can find this review and more on my blog, or you can follow me on twitter, bookstagram, or facebook!

This is one of those reviews that I had to sit on for a while, because I had so many things I wanted to say about this book, and I just couldn’t quite figure out how to condense them into anything even remotely resembling a sensible length of review. Sawkill Girls is being marketed fairly heavily as horror, but it’s fabulism, too, with a world so gorgeously complex that I can’t ever quite determine if I adore it or am terrified of it.

Come for a while, reads the sign at Sawkill’s ferry dock, and stay forever.

At Sawkill Rock, the beauty of the island masks a terrible, dark secret: girls keep going missing, and they’re being lost more frequently every year. Nobody knows where they go, and it’s almost become an accepted status quo among the people of the island. The atmosphere of Sawkill Rock is one of the most immersive settings I’ve ever read; I felt transported so fully into the island’s grasp that I couldn’t help the dread worsening in my gut with every chapter’s passing. Claire Legrand’s writing voice is superb here—having read previous work by her, I genuinely believe that this is where she is meant to be.

My little rock, her mother would say. My grave little mountain.

There are three main characters to this story, with chapters alternating between their perspectives, and my favorite was Marion, who broke my heart over and over again with the loss of her loved ones and, consequentially, her slackening grasp on normality. The representation in this entire book is amazing, and Marion is bisexual and fat, which is a combination I’ll never tire of (because, hello, it’s me!). These facts are dropped so casually that there’s no room for argument—there is no homophobia or body hatred, despite an occasional very brief moment of self-consciousness on Marion’s part. Beyond her appearance and sexuality, Marion is so tough, and pragmatic, and determined to keep up a strong front. I’ve always been the same way, and so, I constantly saw myself mirrored back in her character.

Don’t lose yourself to him, my darling one, Sylvia Mortimer had said. Not all of you. Keep a morsel for yourself.

Though it took me a little longer to warm up to Val Mortimer, I grew fond of her, too. She first appears as this over-simplified “queen bee” persona, but we quickly get to see a side of her that’s so much darker and more haunted than anything you’d imagine (and she’s queer, though we don’t know what her label is). There are quotes in her chapters that have haunted me since the moment I finished this book, and you should be warned that her perspectives frequently depict suicidal ideation and abuse.

Zoey’s laugh was bitter. “Oh, and we poor delicate girls are vulnerable and desperate, is that what you’re saying?”

Finally, there’s Zoey, who is black and asexual (on page—there’s an entire facet to her back story revolving around this aspect of her life), and even more than that, she’s so determined and stubborn and absolutely lovable despite being a fairly “unlikable” character. She’s stern and feisty, and while I’m not sure if she will be everyone’s cup of tea, I was delighted by her antics and unpredictability.

It did not relish tying an innocent to the burden of its ancient might. But the Rock required an infantry.

Okay… I lied, sort of. There’s a fourth character, but it’s hard to explain. The Rock gets the occasional perspective chapter, and while they’re incredibly short and typically entirely vague, they may have been my absolute favorites. These passages read so lyrically and they are so incredibly haunting. I’ve never read a book where a place was given a thinking, feeling sentience to this degree, and it adds the most amazing layer to the story.

“What I’m saying is that girls hunger. And we’re taught, from the moment our brains can take it, that there isn’t enough food for us all.”

On top of the beautiful cast of characters and the haunting atmosphere, this story is so feminist, so empowering and bold and unapologetic. I can’t tell you how strongly this parallels the real world and the ways society casts teen girls aside, nor can I describe how badly I wish I’d had this story as a teen—a story to tell me that it’s okay to be strong, and angry, and queer, and brave, and in need of another mountain to lean on.

You are mighty. You are one, and one, and one.
You are fragile. You can move mountains.
You are breakable. You will never break.
This power is mine. And now it is yours, too.

I know I said I’d keep this to a reasonable length, and I’m trying, but Sawkill Girls is one of those stories that I feel has changed me in a way. 2018 has been the year of brilliant, fiercely feminist reads for me, and this one easily joins the ranks of my favorites. I want everyone and anyone I know to pick up a copy of this gorgeous, spooky little book, because it packs such a punch, and I only hope that it will get even half of the hype it deserves.

All quotes come from an advance copy and may not match the final release. Thank you so much to Katherine Tegen Books for providing me with this ARC in exchange for an honest review!

You can find this review and more on my blog, or you can follow me on twitter, bookstagram, or facebook!

I love anthologies, but I’ve never read one anywhere near this size, so when I heard that TorDotCom was coming out with a collection of some of their best short stories for their tenth anniversary, I had to check it out. There are so many authors in this collection whose work I’d been dying to pick up, and short stories are such an efficient, wonderful way to get to know a few new authors.

The entire anthology is comprised of sci-fi and fantasy stories, with a touch of light horror here and there through a few of them. Each story is so distinctively different from one another, and there are so many gems. On top of the quality of the work included, there’s a ton of fantastic representation scattered throughout, with many stories featuring characters of color and queer relationships.

There are 40 stories in this collection, and while I usually do breakdowns with a tiny review for each story in a collection, we’d be here for days if I did that for this one. Instead, I’m going to list tiny reviews for the stories I gave 5 stars, and then tack on a basic star rating list for each story in the collection (just for those of who you are curious of what I thought of your favorites!).

→ five star reads, in order of appearance:

1. Damage — David D. Levine
A story of intergalactic warfare, told through the perspective of a fighter spacecraft who’s in love with her pilot. I never thought I would empathize with a machine so much, but the narrative in this is beautiful.

2. About Fairies — Pat Murphy
Toy designers create little virtual fairy worlds, but what happens when one of the designers thinks she’s found real fairies? Weird, a little eerie, and overall carrying a surprising level of bleakness, something about this fascinated me endlessly.

3. The Water That Falls on You From Nowhere — John Chu
Ever since the water started randomly falling from nowhere on anyone who told a lie, it’s been really tough for one man to stay in the closet. I cannot describe how utterly precious this story was, despite the fact that it does involve a lot of painful (but challenged) homophobia from a member of the narrator’s family.

4. Brimstone and Marmalade — Aaron Corwin
Every little girl wants a pony, but ponies are a lot more expensive and harder to take care of than pet demons. This piece was hilarious. I literally laughed throughout every single interaction with the little demon pet, and by the end of it, I desperately wanted one of my very own.

5. Please Undo This Hurt — Seth Dickinson

A heartbreaking story about an EMT and her drinking pal, who has come to her to ask if she thinks there could ever be a way to be “unmade”. He doesn’t want to kill himself, he just wishes he’d never existed at all. Major content warnings for suicidal ideation on this one, but Seth writes like someone who genuinely gets depression, and the ending is positively stunning.

6. La beauté sans vertu — Genevieve Valentine
Valentine’s story takes place in a world where models are horribly disfigured for the sake of “beauty”, and the parallels run chillingly deep to how our own society treats young women. What I found most profound was the presence of a “feminist” protest group, who ultimately doesn’t care about any girl’s well-being nearly as much as they care about the length of her skirt.

7. A Fist of Permutations in Lightning and Wildflowers — Alyssa Wong
Two sisters can time travel, but the narrator never predicted her sister would destroy the world, and herself along with it, until it’s too late, and our narrator is forcing into an endless loop of desperately trying to change the inevitable. I don’t think I have enough time to possibly explain how much I adore Alyssa’s writing. Every story I have read by her has left me a crumpled, sobbing mess, and this was no exception, but I welcome the heartbreak every single time. Major content warnings for (challenged) transphobia in this one.

8. A Kiss With Teeth — Max Gladstone
Vlad is trying to fit in like a normal dad, but it’s so hard, especially when his son’s new teacher is tempting his inner beast so much. This whole idea of an ancient, powerful vampire trying to fit into normal suburban life with his vampire-hunting wife and his seemingly normal son had me sucked in from the start. I honestly loved the narrative voice so much, and would absolutely read a full novel about Vlad and his family.

9. The Last Banquet of Temporal Confections — Tina Connolly
A woman lives as the Traitor King’s taste tester, while her husband works as the head baker, creating pastries that forcibly conjure up memories for the person eating them. The entire idea of this plot was so incredibly fascinating, and I’ve never read anything quite like it.

10. Your Orisons May Be Recorded — Laurie Penny
What if angels answered phone calls in a… call center? Laurie Penny’s writing is weirdly hilarious, and this was so delightful and strange. It’s a little sad, too, as the angel reminisces over lost loves throughout the ages, but more than anything, I just loved her demon best friend’s weird antics and endless adoration of heavy metal music.

11. The Cage — A. M. Dellamonica
When you’re determined not to fall in love with a woman or her werewolf baby, you probably shouldn’t play contractor, handywoman, or babysitter. The actual plot of this story didn’t catch me for a little bit, but once the werewolf baby came on the scene, I was done for. If you enjoy adorable infant characters, you’re in for a real treat with this one.

12. The Witch of Duva: A Ravkan Folk Tale — Leigh Bardugo
The forest has been eating girls, and Nadya is convinced that the monster responsible has snuck right into her very own home. If you’ve read the Grisha books, you’ll doubtlessly love this story, but even if you haven’t, it’s perfectly enjoyable on its own. It has such a fairytale quality to it, but it’s also so dark and sad. This was one of only three stories in this collection (the other 2 being John Chu’s and Alyssa Wong’s) that forced me to put the collection down and just process for a moment because they were that good.

1. Six Months, Three Days — Charlie Jane Anders ★★★★☆
2. Damage —David D. Levine ★★★★★
3. The Best We Can — Carrie Vaughn ★★★☆☆
4. The City Born Great — N. K. Jemisin ★★★★☆
5. A Vector Alphabet of Interstellar Travel — Yoon Ha Lee ★★☆☆☆
6. Waiting on a Bright Moon — Jy Yang ★★★☆☆
7. Elephants and Corpses — Kameron Hurley ★★★★☆
8. About Fairies — Pat Murphy ★★★★★
9. The Hanging Game — Helen Marshall ★★★★☆
10. The Water That Falls on You From Nowhere — John Chu ★★★★★
11. A Cup of Salt Tears — Isabel Yap ★★★★☆
12. The Litany of Earth — Ruthanna Emrys [did not read due to spoilers for series]
13. Brimstone and Marmalade — Aaron Corwin ★★★★★
14. Reborn — Ken Liu ★★☆☆☆
15. Please Undo This Hurt — Seth Dickinson ★★★★★
16. The Language of Knives — Haralambi Markov ★★★★☆
17. The Shape of My Name — Nino Cipri ★★★★☆
18. Eros, Philia, Agape — Rachel Swirsky [DNF]
19. The Lady Astronaut of Mars — Mary Robinette Kowal ★★★★☆
20. Last Son of Tomorrow — Greg Van Eekhout ★★☆☆☆
21. Ponies — Kij Johnson ★☆☆☆☆
22. La beauté sans vertu — Genevieve Valentine ★★★★★
23. A Fist of Permutations in Lightning and Wildflowers — Alyssa Wong ★★★★★
24. A Kiss With Teeth — Max Gladstone ★★★★★
25. The Last Banquet of Temporal Confections — Tina Connolly ★★★★★
26. The End of the End of Everything — Dale Bailey ★★☆☆☆
27. Breaking Water — Indrapramit Das ★★★★☆
28. Your Orisons May Be Recorded — Laurie Penny ★★★★★
29. The Tallest Doll in New York City — Maria Dahvana Headley ★★☆☆☆
30. The Cage — A. M. Dellamonica ★★★★★
31. In the Sight of Akresa — Ray Wood ★★★☆☆
32. Terminal — Lavia Tidhar ★★★☆☆
33. The Witch of Duva: A Ravkan Folk Tale — Leigh Bardugo ★★★★★
34. Daughter of Necessity — Marie Brennan ★★★★☆
35. Among the Thorns — Veronica Schanoes ★★★★☆
36. These Deathless Bones — Cassandra Khaw ★★★★☆
37. Mrs. Sorensen and the Sasquatch — Kelly Barnhill [DNF]
38. This World is Full of Monsters — Jeff Vandermeer ★★★☆☆
39. The Devil in America — Kai Ashante Wilson ★★★☆☆
40. A Short History of the Twentieth Century, or, When You Wish Upon a Star — Kathleen Ann Goonan ★★☆☆☆

AVERAGE RATING: 3.7/5 STARS

Thank you so much to TorDotCom for providing me with this ARC in exchange for an honest review!

You can find this review and more on my blog, or you can follow me on twitter, bookstagram, or facebook!

I’ve always loved the story of Baba Yaga, and I never seem to tire of stories told in verse, a storytelling-through-poetry method that works beautifully for whimsical, dark fairytales like this one. Something unique to Finding Baba Yaga, however, is the modern spin Yolen puts on it; while you know that it takes place in modern times, it’s easy to forget when Natasha is in Baba Yaga’s house of magic and mysteries.

This is a tale
both old and new,
borrowed, narrowed,
broadened, deepened.

The reason I love Baba Yaga so much is her affinity for feisty, angry, curious girls. In a world full of fairytales (especially the old ones) where young women are taught to be quiet, take up little space, and do as they’re told, Baba Yaga plays the role of a bizarre, crude, fun, and sometimes terrifying old crone, here to offer reprieve to the girls who never quite learned how to make themselves small.

Baba Yaga prefers them bright, asking questions,
challenging her, turning their backs.
She likes the ones who stick out their tongues,
laugh at death threats, use foul language, never beg.

Yolen’s a pro at storytelling, as her proficient writing career suggests, but what amazed me was how beautiful her poetry is. While it gets a little muddied at points, I found her writing voice so entertaining and bold and lovely, and were she to write more stories in verse in the future, I would eagerly be first in line to read them.

Content warnings for abuse, anti-Semitism, misogyny (all challenged in text)

All quotes come from an advance copy and may not match the final release. Thank you so much to TorDotCom for providing me with this ARC in exchange for an honest review!

Given how much I loved Jeremy Shipp’s last gothic novella, The Atrocities, I was more than a little eager to pick up Bedfellow. An unsettling tale of a family home being invaded by a bizarre intruder who begins to wage psychological warfare on them by changing their memories? Talk about disturbing!

Hendrick prides himself on always responding well to an emergency, but he freezes in place when a man in a Space Jam nightshirt crawls through their living room window.

Let me say this: if I thought The Atrocities was strange, it had nothing on Bedfellow. This story is so convoluted and bizarre that it’s actually a little difficult to follow at times, but I think that’s part of the appeal—it takes you on such a ride that I couldn’t have stopped myself from being immersed if I wanted to, and that only adds to the eerie vibe the entire situation gives off.

She’s afraid of the man in her imagination who still might be out there, squatting in the dark, waiting to push open the living room window so that he can crawl inside.

Despite how unusual and fantastical the entire ordeal is, there’s something very “real world” unsettling about it. When I read a book about zombies or demonic possession, I’m not going, “What if this happened to me?” but I can’t deny that I thought, more than once, how terrifying it would be to have my very own ‘Uncle Marvin’ in my life—particularly because I wouldn’t even know anything was wrong, and that’s the scariest part of all to me.

He probably shouldn’t open himself up to a monster like this. When all’s said and done, though, Hendrick doesn’t mind being a fool if it means he can finally live the life he’s always deserved.

As for the characters, the narrative switches between the father Hendrick, the mother Imani, and the kids, Kennedy and Tomas. Imani’s perspectives were my favorite because I related so much to her, between her fierce protective nature, her obsession with morbid podcasts, and her nonstop pun usage that had me quick to grin or groan alike. On the other hand, the father, Hendrick, is a monster in his own right: he’s a disgusting and unkind man whom I hated more as time progressed, but he offers an interesting parallel where we can see that even though Uncle Marvin is the terror of the story, sometimes humans are even worse.

My only complaint about Bedfellow, and the reason this is a 4.5 instead of a solid 5, is that I think it’s a little longer than it needs to be. The first 50 pages or so were a little tough to get into, and I can’t help but think that I wish they’d been trimmed down so we would have gotten into the action a little sooner. That said, it’s a minor complaint, and all in all, I genuinely enjoyed Bedfellow and can’t wait to see what Jeremy cooks up next. If you enjoy surreal, quiet horror, I absolutely recommend picking up a copy.

All quotes come from an advance copy and may not match the final release. Thank you so much to TorDotCom for providing me with this ARC in exchange for an honest review!

Last year, I was given the chance to review Black Bird of the Gallows by Meg Kassel, and I thoroughly enjoyed it. There was a character in it who belonged to a group called the “beekeepers”, and I was so fascinated by that character’s entire design that, when I heard this book was being released, I can’t even describe how badly I wanted to read it. I needed more from this gorgeous little world Meg has crafted!

I won’t be including any spoilers for Black Bird of the Gallows, if you haven’t read it yet, but I strongly recommend reading Black Bird of the Gallows before Keeper of the Bees.

“Some creatures are not meant to be loved.”

Not only does the story follow a new beekeeper, it’s also a bit of a Beauty and the Beast retelling, which is one of the few retelling themes that I never seem to tire of. If you’re not a big fan of retellings, though, don’t worry—it definitely has its very own feel and holds its own perfectly. It’s got this wonderfully modern vibe, though Dresden’s age lends to this wonderful vintage narrative; between it and Essie’s delightful perspective on the world around her, among other details, I can honestly say I’ve never read a book quite like this one.

The curse of the beekeeper ensures that my face is rarely actually seen. It’s certainly not a face anyone would want to see.

The beekeepers are so fascinating for a number of reasons:
1. Their facial features are constantly shifting between the features of people whose deaths they have caused, so nobody knows what they actually look like.
2. They have bees inside of them. Like… there’s some legitimate body horror at play when Dresden describes the bees.
3. The bees demand to sting people they choose, based on the person’s energy, and their venom causes the victim to gradually sink into a violent, raging madness.

“Are you planning to kill me?”
I am a monster. A beast. Lying about it would be pointless. “Yes.”

So as you can imagine, it’s pretty rotten luck when Dresden, for the first time in his many, many years, is led to a victim and feels the need to spare her. It’s deliciously angsty from the start, and I loved watching him struggle with these conflicting feelings—does he sting the strange young girl, or let her go despite a massive potential cost to himself or even the entire town? I mean, all I’m saying is that you can’t have a good paranormal fantasy story without a little angst and self-loathing, and Dresden’s got it in spades.

I’m so weary of questioning everything I see, of fighting to appear average and ordinary enough to not disturb people.

Of course, Essie’s life isn’t easy, either. She sees things that aren’t really there, and the entire town—minus her grandmother and aunt—has basically written her off as a lost cause. Treatments don’t work, nobody can find a diagnosis, and did I mention it’s referred to as the family curse? It’s such a fun twist. A caveat here: since it appears to be a mental illness, there is some ableism throughout the book, and the representation could potentially be uncomfortable for certain readers.

Maybe we’re here to give each other what the rest of the world can’t.

The story flips perspectives between Dresden and Essie, and I honestly loved them both so very much. They’re both these great, complex characters, and I found myself rooting for them from the very beginning. There is a touch of insta-love, which is usually a huge issue for me, but… I’m as shocked as you guys are to hear me say this in a review: the chemistry between these two is so good, I didn’t even mind. Just trust me on this one. ♥

And then, this singular thought: it isn’t selfish to want more than this.

Once again, Meg Kassel has blown me away with this ridiculously lovable couple, a lot of intriguing back story and suspense, and a world that is so full of Meg’s unique lore that I just couldn’t get enough. I am desperately hoping that she will write us yet another story in this world, because now that we’ve gotten to spend time with the harbingers and the beekeepers… I think it’s time the Strawmen get their book, don’t you?

Content warnings for body horror, rape, sex slavery, attempted assault, pedophilia, ableism, child abuse, alcoholism (all challenged within text).

Thank you so much to Entangled Teen for providing me with a finished copy in exchange for an honest review!

You can find this review and more on my blog, or you can follow me on twitter, bookstagram, or facebook!

If there’s one genre I loved as a kid, but don’t see much in the YA age range nowadays, it’s the action/adventure story. While I Do Not Trust You is being marketed as a mystery novel—and I can see certain aspects of that, too, don’t get me wrong—I think this book would be fantastic for anyone who loved action-packed, suspenseful tales of people being sent on wild missions, full of unexpected obstacles and enemies.

It is said that the battle between Set, god of discord and mischief, and Horus, god of kings, will continue until the end of time, when chaos will overrun harmony and the waters will swallow the earth.

I knew that the story would involve Memphis—or M, as she goes by—being sucked into a shocking search for lost artifacts to save her father (who she thought was dead—surprise!), but I didn’t realize just how heavily involved the mythology in this story would be, and that was such a pleasant surprise! I grew up obsessed with ancient, lost myths, especially those of Egypt and the Greco-Roman periods, so that entire theme of this story honestly just made my inner child geek out so happily. It’s been a long time since I studied any of that mythology, so I can’t speak with certainty for how thorough the research was, but it never felt disrespectful or blaringly wrong to me.

“I don’t question anyone’s religious beliefs,” she said. “And I don’t question the ancient Egyptian belief in Horus, or Set. So I shouldn’t be dismissive of you still believing it even though it sounds bananapants to me.”

There’s also a very heavy religious theme in the story, though not in a conversion-geared way; it’s just part of the history they’re researching, and part of Ashwin’s daily life as a follower of Horus. I actually really enjoyed the idea of this modern character being depicted as belonging to an ancient pagan religion, since that is something I don’t think I’ve ever seen in a book set in today’s timeframe. Unfortunately, the downside to this is that, halfway through the book, some fantasy elements come in on the religious side of things, and it made it a lot harder for me to appreciate Ash’s beliefs at face value. I strongly believe that I Do Not Trust You would have benefited greatly from leaving out any of those fantasy elements at all.

He wanted to keep going the way they had been, getting along, having fun, building trust. Until he had to betray her.

The only other thing that genuinely lacked for me in this story was the blossoming romance, which I was never able to really connect to. This may have been just a personal problem on my part; despite loving M’s character (she is such a clever, tough young woman and I genuinely enjoyed watching her bust everyone’s chops nonstop), I didn’t care much for Ashwin from the start, and never was able to develop any legitimate fondness for him. I didn’t hate him, and he didn’t get on my nerves—he was just sort of there, so it made it incredibly difficult for me to care much about what happened to him or to their friendship/potential relationship.

Maybe there’s a spark of the divine anywhere someone worships with pure intent.

Minor complaints aside, I Do Not Trust You was a remarkably fun read and I enjoyed it a lot. It flew by, and I kept thinking while reading that it would make a perfect YA adventure film with the right casting choices and a little more humor thrown in. I would definitely check out work from this writing duo again in the future, and can safely recommend this one for anyone who enjoys adventure stories and a bit of mythology.

All quotes come from an advance copy and may not match the final release. Thank you so much to Wednesday Books for providing me with this ARC in exchange for an honest review!

You can find this review and more on my blog, or you can follow me on twitter, bookstagram, or facebook!

As a long-time browser of r/NoSleep and fan of Dathan’s work, when I learned that Bad Man was being released, I was so excited. To learn that he was coming out with his first ever full-length novel—and his first new work in way too long—had me rushing to request this one, and I was beyond excited when I was approved for an ARC. That said, the end result left me with some very mixed thoughts about the execution of this story.

He’s not coming home. It was the only echo that seemed to get louder over time, and Ben couldn’t deny that it had changed him, worn him down.

First, let me say that if you find yourself particularly susceptible to stories about child abduction, proceed with caution on this one. As a mother to a two-year-old, I rarely pick up books about kidnappings because they tend to wreak havoc on my emotional wellbeing, but since it was Dathan writing this one, I decided to give it a chance. While I never felt like I needed to DNF it, there were a few times where I had to put down my e-reader and do something else for a while, and I definitely shed a few tears (and cuddled my kiddo a lot in between chapters). The best execution of the entire storyline is the grief, and it is just written out so flawlessly that you can’t help but feel your heart break right alongside Ben’s.

The sound was what Ben noticed the most. There was so much less to hear now, but Ben still listened.

The rest of the book’s various facets left me feeling ambivalent, frankly. It seemed as though every individual aspect to the storytelling just took things a little too far: the atmosphere was magnificently immersive until it became too repetitive, the red herrings were a whirlwind until they became too unreliable, and the unreliability of Ben’s narrative was a tremendous source of suspense until it began to feel like plot holes. More than anything, the slow burn of the story’s buildup was perfect for creating a nauseating sense of dread, until it reached a length at which I found myself simply ready for it to hurry up and end. Each of these complaints boil down to one thing: if this book had been 50-100 pages shorter, I bet it would have been a perfect 5-star read for me.

Every person has a day that transforms trust into a choice, when he learns that people lie for reasons all their own.

All of that aside, it was obviously still an enjoyable read; that 3-star rating is more of a 3.5, and there were a lot of lesser aspects that I thought were great touches of detail. Ben is disabled and overweight, and while there is a bit of fat-shaming and ableism in regards to both of these things, I enjoyed the complexity it lent to his overall struggles and the back story he eventually came around to giving, explaining how he received his injury, and what that lack of mobility did to the rest of his daily life experiences.

I’ll never leave you, Ben’s heart sobbed. Tell him. Tell him that I’ll stay with him forever. Even if that means neither of us can never ever leave, I’ll stay.

Was Bad Man a perfect read? No. It’s lengthy, it misses opportunities left and right, and to be totally fair, the ending left me with a sense of dissatisfaction that I haven’t been able to shake in the days since I finished reading it. Regardless, Dathan has a knack for plot lines and creepy settings, and my slightly lackluster response to this story will absolutely not slow me down when it comes time to reach for his next release, whenever that may be.

Content warnings for child abduction, abuse, fat shaming, ableism, substance addiction, racism, brief slur usage

All quotes come from an advance copy and may not match the final release. Thank you so much to Doubleday Books for providing me with this ARC in exchange for an honest review!

You can find this review and more on my blog, or you can follow me on twitter, bookstagram, or facebook!

ETA — SECOND THOUGHTS:

I had a lot of issues with the treatment of queer characters in this book, which I wanted to mention in my review, but didn't know how to word things. The representations in this book are pansexual, ace/aro, and trans, and I don't fall into any of these categories as a cis bisexual woman, so I wasn't sure if I was imagining the issues I had, but after talking to friends and reading own-voice reviews, I am convinced that I was right in my initial thoughts.

The trans character is outed without her consent: the Scela have this group-think capability with their exos where they can actually "read" one another's emotions and thoughts, and one of the narrators utilizes this to out Praava without any consent being given whatsoever.

The ace/aro character is forced to undergo a traumatic experience: during their time connected to each other's thoughts, she actually has to witness visual and tactile memories of two of her fellow Scela having sex, which as reviewers like Heather and Leah pointed out, is an incredibly insensitive way to out this ace/aro character, as well as flippantly portraying what is an incredibly traumatic experience for many ace/aro people (this is even a tactic used in "corrective rape" for many ace/aro people, and if that doesn't drive the point home of how harmful this scene was, I don't know what will).

On top of the poor content, the author has taken to invading reviewers' private spaces by harassing them on social media, and more. It's been a bad look all around, and has sadly quite probably removed Emily Skrutskie's other works from my TBR. You can read more about that here, with screenshots and receipts attached.

Between the problematic content and the fact that this book was already a 2.5 at best for me, I'm lowering my rating to 2 stars and will more than likely not be picking up future releases from this author.

———

A lot of my friends have really enjoyed Emily Skrutskie’s The Abyss Surrounds Us duology, so when I was offered a copy of Hullmetal Girls for reviewing, I jumped at the chance because I assumed this would be pretty noteworthy, too! Sadly, it fell short of my hopeful expectations in a few ways, but it wasn’t a total loss.

This is what a Scela is meant to be. A living weapon, a replacement for the ancient guns that blew holes in the hulls of ships we lost so long ago that their names are no longer taught.

The Scela themselves are a really interesting feature to me, and it’s the biggest reason why I think this was a book with an amazing plot and a slightly lacking execution. The Scela are people who have been given a robotic exoskeleton to wear on their backs, which drills into their nervous systems and feeds commands and information to their brains. They’re also surgically altered to be taller, bigger, and tougher, and altogether, it’s a fantastic twist of body horror in what would otherwise be a strictly science fiction story.

My favorite part of the book was learning about how the exos work, the surgeries required to become a Scela, and the features that came along with it, such as their group-think capabilities and the options for them to exert their willpowers and commands over them teammates or inferior colleagues. I thought this whole idea was super unique and would translate beautifully to the silver screen.

But I’m not Scela. I’m a human being trapped in the metal they made me wear.

Unfortunately, where Hullmetal Girls fell short for me was the characters themselves. There are two perspectives—Aisha Un-Haad and Key Tanaka—but I feel like the story develops much more in Aisha’s POV chapters than Key’s. Some of Key’s chapters are only a couple of pages, compared to Aisha’s 10-15 page chapters, and it made the entire storytelling technique feel unevenly weighted. I actually told my buddy reading partner about halfway through the book that I wished Key’s POV didn’t exist, because if the whole thing had been told through Aisha’s perspective, I could have stayed in the story better.

I also felt like some of the characters—Aisha especially, in the second half—were making choices and displaying behaviors that felt very bizarre compared to their original personality constructs. As someone who analyzes characters relentlessly (I can’t help it, it’s who I am as a reader), this sort of issue breaks my immersion fast, and it became a common struggle in the last 150-200 pages.

I may not be a useful Scela yet. But I’ll be damned if I’m not a useful sister.

The plot itself is intriguing enough once you get a little ways in (it does start off slow), but again, it lost me in the ending. Things happen that feel unnecessary and provocative for the sake of simple shock; they’re incredibly detrimental, yet they don’t carry as much emotional weight as they should.

All in all, did I love this? No, I didn’t. That said, I think this book could be good for a lot of readers, and I’ll probably give Emily’s writing another chance eventually.

Buddy read with one of my faves, Heather! ♥

Thank you so much to Delacorte for providing me with this finished copy in exchange for an honest review!

You can find this review and more on my blog, or you can follow me on twitter, bookstagram, or facebook!