Take a photo of a barcode or cover
howlinglibraries's Reviews (1.85k)
Assigned reading for MLIS 7421: Multicultural Youth Literature.
This was probably the cutest and most delightful children's picture book I've read in a very long time! It tells the true story of Jazz Jennings, a trans girl who knew she was a little girl trapped in a boy's body since she was a toddler. It talks about her family's adjustment period to her transition, her classmates' behaviors towards her - and, most importantly, she touches on the fact that anyone who gives her a chance ends up loving her, and seeing her for the kind and lovely little girl she is. Not only is the story fantastic, but the art is gorgeous, too, and I will absolutely be purchasing a copy of this for my own child!
This was probably the cutest and most delightful children's picture book I've read in a very long time! It tells the true story of Jazz Jennings, a trans girl who knew she was a little girl trapped in a boy's body since she was a toddler. It talks about her family's adjustment period to her transition, her classmates' behaviors towards her - and, most importantly, she touches on the fact that anyone who gives her a chance ends up loving her, and seeing her for the kind and lovely little girl she is. Not only is the story fantastic, but the art is gorgeous, too, and I will absolutely be purchasing a copy of this for my own child!
“You could start a fire with the heat between you two.”
“You're mistaking bitter animosity for heartfelt affection.”
You know how there are always those previously hyped books that you’re a little late to the party with (or, in this case, way late), and you end up worrying that maybe you’ve missed your chance? Maybe it fit the trends of the time a little too well, and now those years have gone by, and what if you aren’t the same person who would’ve loved that book back then? Or maybe that’s just me, and I overthink everything—nothing new there! Anyways, that’s exactly what I worried about, going into this series.
“I was warned about you, you know.”
And with that half-smile that wrecked me, Noah said, “But you're here anyway.”
Thankfully, that was not even the slightest bit the case with The Unbecoming of Mara Dyer, because I enjoyed this book so much. I actually was advised by so many people not to bother because they didn’t think I’d like it, but something in my gut kept leading me towards it, and I’m so happy that I finally caved and picked it up! There was no let-down, no feeling of it being over-hyped; it flew by and left me so intrigued (and a little warm and fuzzy).
“My God, you’re like the plague.”
“A masterfully crafted, powerfully understated, and epic parable of timeless moral resonance? Why, thank you. That’s one of the nicest things anyone’s ever said to me,” he said.
“The disease, Noah. Not the book.”
While there are a lot of things to like here—the plot, the writing style, and the characters all drew me in easily—my favorite thing about it had to be the banter. Mara and Noah have such a weird, hilarious, sarcastic flirtation between them that never got old, and even once the sparks had starting flying, I loved that they kept up their wit and poked fun at each other like some sort of long-suffering married elderly duo.
“Because,” he said, “you're not broken.”
Sadly, I don’t have much more to say, because this has been sitting on my “review to come” shelf a mortifyingly long time, but I will say that revisiting it to write this review has made me so excited to pick up the second book and finally continue the series, and I honestly expect it to only get better from here.
———
Buddy read with Reg!
It was very interesting to go straight from I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings to this and to watch the shift from her prose to her poetry. Maya was an amazing woman through and through, and there are some powerful pieces in this tiny book, but I have to admit that I vastly prefer her prose.
Content warnings: sexual assault, self-harm, depression, anxiety, PTSD, victim-shaming
I first picked up a copy of Speak at the library some time in the very early 2000s, when I wish I’d been too young to know how the world worked, the ways in which it chewed children up and spat them back out. Sadly, I was one of many children who learned these things early, and Speak made me feel acknowledged. I remember thinking, for the first time, that someone understood me, and I will never, ever let go of the special place that feeling carved out in my heart for this famous little story. When I found out that one of my favorite graphic novel artists was taking it on for a new spin, I had to have it, and I literally sat down to devour it the moment I opened the package.
Unfortunately, Laurie Halse Anderson speaks from a place of understanding and experience on this topic, but it shines through in how authentic the events of Speak feel. The story not only discusses the ramifications of rape and how Melinda views her attacker now – especially in a scenario when a victim is forced to continue interacting with their abuser – but it also touches on the depression that can come along with the event, and the ways those feelings manifest themselves for many victims: isolation, silence, anger, self-harm, anxiety, intrusive thoughts, and apathy for anything in life that isn’t crucial to survival.
While the story itself is as wonderful and haunting as it always has been, Emily Carroll’s artwork genuinely takes things to a new level. She manages to depict small things that don’t come across as so important in the text – like Melinda’s nervous tics, or the way she views herself as an endangered rabbit when the vicious wolf (her attacker) is near. When it comes to the heaviest and darkest scenes, Emily manages to convey the hurt and fear without going overboard on graphic depictions. There is one panel, in fact, that is so subtle, but left me breathless because it so perfectly portrays the helpless claustrophobia that comes with facing one’s attacker.
I could tell you, for those of you who haven’t experienced Speak before, that there’s a silver lining, or a lightly humorous subplot to cut through the grime, or a perfectly happy ending, but none of that would be true. Laurie Halse Anderson is too authentic for that. This isn’t a story about a girl who happens to have been raped; this is a book about rape, and the tragic things it can do to a survivor’s psyche. I recommend the utmost caution when proceeding with this story, in its original format or this new graphic novel style, but I also have to say that I cannot recommend this book highly enough.
“When people don't express themselves, they die one piece at a time.”
I first picked up a copy of Speak at the library some time in the very early 2000s, when I wish I’d been too young to know how the world worked, the ways in which it chewed children up and spat them back out. Sadly, I was one of many children who learned these things early, and Speak made me feel acknowledged. I remember thinking, for the first time, that someone understood me, and I will never, ever let go of the special place that feeling carved out in my heart for this famous little story. When I found out that one of my favorite graphic novel artists was taking it on for a new spin, I had to have it, and I literally sat down to devour it the moment I opened the package.
“I wonder how long it would take for anyone to notice if I just stopped talking.”
Unfortunately, Laurie Halse Anderson speaks from a place of understanding and experience on this topic, but it shines through in how authentic the events of Speak feel. The story not only discusses the ramifications of rape and how Melinda views her attacker now – especially in a scenario when a victim is forced to continue interacting with their abuser – but it also touches on the depression that can come along with the event, and the ways those feelings manifest themselves for many victims: isolation, silence, anger, self-harm, anxiety, intrusive thoughts, and apathy for anything in life that isn’t crucial to survival.
“I have never heard a more eloquent silence.”
While the story itself is as wonderful and haunting as it always has been, Emily Carroll’s artwork genuinely takes things to a new level. She manages to depict small things that don’t come across as so important in the text – like Melinda’s nervous tics, or the way she views herself as an endangered rabbit when the vicious wolf (her attacker) is near. When it comes to the heaviest and darkest scenes, Emily manages to convey the hurt and fear without going overboard on graphic depictions. There is one panel, in fact, that is so subtle, but left me breathless because it so perfectly portrays the helpless claustrophobia that comes with facing one’s attacker.
“It happened. There is no avoiding it, no forgetting. No running away, or flying, or burying, or hiding.”
I could tell you, for those of you who haven’t experienced Speak before, that there’s a silver lining, or a lightly humorous subplot to cut through the grime, or a perfectly happy ending, but none of that would be true. Laurie Halse Anderson is too authentic for that. This isn’t a story about a girl who happens to have been raped; this is a book about rape, and the tragic things it can do to a survivor’s psyche. I recommend the utmost caution when proceeding with this story, in its original format or this new graphic novel style, but I also have to say that I cannot recommend this book highly enough.
And if ever you find my name slipping from your memory, I can promise you, by the time this year is through, you will never forget it again.
Lang Leav was my first contemporary poetry love, and no matter how many collections she releases, I genuinely don't believe I'll ever stop adoring them. She always seems to know exactly the right things to say, and when I pick up one of her books, always, it feels like coming home.
Our salvation will only come if we stand together.
Love Looks Pretty on You stands apart from her previous collections in its unapologetic, bold feminist theme, and that made it my favorite yet. Lang takes the time to break down what misogyny has done to women, and how it has encouraged us to tear one another down for our sexuality or even our mere, most human mistakes.
When my best friend told me
she was in love
my first thought was,
'I hope he is good to her.'
And it suddenly occurred to me,
what I held in my heart for her
was hope, when it should
have been expectation.
There are endless references circling back to abuse and the things women in m/f relationships have come to not only fear, but to expect, and while it's a tough read at points—or it was for me, as a survivor—it also feels like a tight hug, a fellow warrior saying, "I understand you," and I didn't know how much I needed that right now until reading these poems and Lang's quick flashes of righteous anger and sorrow.
My mother, my safe passage
into this world, fought a war
to show me wars can be won.
Finally, some of the most heartache-inducing moments in the collection are the references to Lang's mother, which made me take a moment to think of how grateful and blessed I am to never have lived through the struggles of being a refugee. In these moments, it's easy to see that Lang Leav got her bravery honestly.
Someone who has your heart is not entitled to your body.
No one lays a finger on you without your permission.
I could easily fill page upon page with quotes and my own gushing over this collection, but I'll stop here and say only that, if you enjoy poignant, powerful, relevant poems from a writer whose work I genuinely believe will go down in history for generations to come, read this.
All quotes come from an advance copy and may not match the final release. Thank you so much to Andrews McMeel Publishing for providing me with this ARC in exchange for an honest review!
Assigned reading for MLIS 7421: Multicultural Youth Literature.
I don't read a lot of MG contemporary, and especially not books that are on the younger end of the MG age range, but I was assigned to read this one for my class. I probably never would've thought to pick it up otherwise, but I'm so glad I read it, as it was absolutely adorable. Cilla's narrative is hilarious in the way that only the zaniest 8-year-olds can be, and her family and friends are lovable, yet flawed and surprisingly complex characters. The illustrations are precious, and all in all, this was a delightful read.
Underneath the cuteness and humor, there are also some very important discussions, such as the fact that Cilla is constantly being asked "what" she is as a biracial child; she establishes the fact that it hurts her feelings to be prodded and questioned because of her features, which is something that I think not only will biracial children understand, but will also help children who are not biracial empathize with their friends and hopefully avoid asking these same uncomfortable, prying questions.
I don't read a lot of MG contemporary, and especially not books that are on the younger end of the MG age range, but I was assigned to read this one for my class. I probably never would've thought to pick it up otherwise, but I'm so glad I read it, as it was absolutely adorable. Cilla's narrative is hilarious in the way that only the zaniest 8-year-olds can be, and her family and friends are lovable, yet flawed and surprisingly complex characters. The illustrations are precious, and all in all, this was a delightful read.
Underneath the cuteness and humor, there are also some very important discussions, such as the fact that Cilla is constantly being asked "what" she is as a biracial child; she establishes the fact that it hurts her feelings to be prodded and questioned because of her features, which is something that I think not only will biracial children understand, but will also help children who are not biracial empathize with their friends and hopefully avoid asking these same uncomfortable, prying questions.
When the local paper assigns Jesse and his coworkers to cover the new Peaceful Valley Nature Park, he thinks it’s a great gig—but nobody could have warned him about the vicious creatures the construction work awakened. Meanwhile, Charly’s trying to make it through another long day in her crumbling marriage when one of those same creatures captures her baby, sending her on a chase to get the child back before it’s eaten—or worse.
I think, by now, we all know that I’m just going to gush about everything Jonathan ever writes (or ever has written), so we might as well skip the intro and get on with it, eh?
It has been waaaaay too long since I've picked up a new volume of this series and I'm so happy to have read this. ♥ This is easily my favorite graphic novel series and I really just never, ever get tired of time spent with these 3 and their ridiculous antics (and McGraw! I'm so happy to be seeing him regularly in these issues again!). I hope John Allison keeps writing these graphic novels forever.
This was SO cute and 100% needs to be lengthened out into a Netflix original rom-com ASAP, please and thank you. I loved the family dynamics here and thought the romance itself was super swoon-worthy and sweet, but honestly... I just want all the hilarious, ridiculous family holiday hijinks. I will say this wasn't the most memorable read for me, but I did enjoy it a whole lot and loved the author's narrative voice, so I'm very excited to continue the series at some point soon! (And seriously, Netflix, GET ON IT.)
I originally gave this 4 stars when I read it a few months ago, but when I found it on my "rtc" (review to come) shelf today, I realized it was incredibly forgettable and I didn't enjoy it nearly as much as I enjoyed her first collection. I still think Rupi Kaur is super talented and I love the social commentary her poetry offers on abuse, healing, toxic masculinity, misogyny, racism, and so much more - I just don't think her writing style is quite my taste anymore.