howlinglibraries's Reviews (1.85k)

I sadly didn't like anything about this beyond the art, which wasn't cute enough to save it from a 1-star rating. Right off the bat, the representation of the side characters feels... really uncomfortable and poorly done to me? I mean, we have a book where a character is learning to observe her white privilege, but many of the side characters — especially the Black characters — feel like over-the-top caricatures of outdated stereotypes. Don't even get me started on the age gap flirting... I skimmed a lot of this because I got so tired of reading it and whew, am I glad this was just a library loan. What a big disappointment. :(

Can dead flesh hold anger? Mine would. Mine would be the most excruciatingly bitter of them all.

After hearing so many people rave about Sara's writing, I'm so glad I finally had the chance to check out her work. I went into To Be Devoured with high hopes and solid expectations, and I was not disappointed in the least. It's a tremendously twisted, ridiculously messed up novella about grief, rage, mental illness, and looking for acceptance in a world that often makes us feel out of place — but it's also a disgusting, graphic piece of work that turned even my stomach (which honestly happens very rarely!).

What saccharine horror waits, harbored in the darkness of the woods where the vultures circle?

There isn't much I can say about the plot within these pages without spoiling things, so I'll only tell you that it's a roller coaster worth taking a ride on. I also genuinely appreciated the fact that it's a horror story featuring a lesbian as a main character and it doesn't shy away from the sweet and steamy aspects of her relationship with her partner — that representation is surely something we don't see often enough in the horror genre, and as a fellow queer woman, I enjoyed it a lot (even if that relationship does frequently come to some shocking and dreadful places).

Altogether, To Be Devoured is a story you just can't afford to miss, if you enjoy graphic, hard-hitting horror. It got under my skin in a way most authors and stories aren't capable of doing, and I don't see it crawling back out any time soon.

Content warnings for violence, death, mentions of suicide, mentions of child death, animal abuse and death, body horror,

Spoiler

cannibalism

Meh. I love the actual novel but this was a really poor interpretation of it.

‘There are no strangers in the town of Near.’ Lexi’s heard this all of her life, so her home becomes an unusual place when a very odd stranger appears—and events turn darker still when his new presence coincides with the nightly disappearances of young children.

Long, long ago, the Near Witch lived in a small house on the farthest edge of the village, and she used to sing the hills to sleep.

It’s probably pretty evident by now that I am trash for Victoria Schwab’s stories. I think she’s one of the most masterful, brilliant creative minds I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting, and frankly, she could publish grocery lists and I would pay good money for them. All of that is to say that, when I learned her long out of print debut novel was being re-released, I was beside myself with glee, but also a little bit nervous, because it can be hard to go back to a beloved author’s roots—after all, not everyone starts out a pro, right?

If the moor wind ever sings, you mustn’t listen, not with all of your ears. Use only the edges.

Well, ha. I worried for nothing, because I opened this gorgeous book, read the first paragraph, and, friends, I’m not exaggerating when I tell you I gave the loudest, most wistful sigh. I was home. Victoria’s writing was just as gorgeous then as it is now, and frankly, if you don’t like rambling “gush” reviews, you might as well close this now, because I just want to get emotional and cry at you all a little over how much this story meant to me.

The wind is lonely, love, and always looking for company.

First, this setting? Flawlessly atmospheric. Never once does the plot or character development suffer for the sake of setting, but I felt so sucked into the town of Near that I could practically smell and feel and hear the moor, right here. I adored every moment well-spent on the grassy hills, the rain, the stones under Lexi’s feel, the old hut the Sisters lived in; it was all so wonderful and poetic.

“They are closer to nature than any human, because it is a part of them. But most people think witches are cursed.”

But when I say this story meant something to me personally, friends, I’m talking about the incredible care Victoria took while crafting these witches. If you ask any pagan or craft-practicing person, they’ll tell you that we’re not used to being painted in such a nuanced light, but here, that’s what I got, and it was wonderful.

“Now her blood is made of moor rain.”
“Now her voice is made of moor wind.”

Now, I won’t spoil the story by saying if the witches are good or bad, or both, but what I’ll say is that there’s a pair of characters—two elderly sisters, who the town is convinced are old witches with no access to the powers of their youth—and they meant everything to me. I’m a sucker for the elderly mentor characters, regardless, but these women, despite being spurned by the town of Near for simply existing, spend their time crafting wards and blessings for the people who abuse them, and something about that just made me downright emotional. The idea that they could be so complex, and that they would continue to take care of people who didn’t deserve their empathy—that’s everything I didn’t know I needed from Magda and Dreska.

“Fear is a strange thing. It has the power to make people close their eyes, turn away. Nothing good grows out of fear.”

The witches weren’t the only characters I adored, though; Lexi and Cole are both incredible in their own rights, but there were quiet, secret, ordinary heroes, too, in Lexi’s mother and her late father. I loved the stories from her dad, and I was cheering every time her mother stepped up to help her or protect her.

I just fell so ridiculously in love with so many of the citizens of Near, just like I always do with V’s characters, and I never wanted to leave them. I feel like The Near Witch is the sort of story I’m going to reach for over and over again, for years to come. It is the most gorgeous kind of fairytale, yet it feels like the kind of thing that’s just odd enough to be real, and I mean it when I tell you that this was easily one of the best books I’ve read all year, and will undoubtedly go down as one of my favorite books, period.

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

This was so cute and sweet, and I'm very happy I gave it another chance, as it seems like it was definitely just my reading slump getting in the way last time. I can't wait to continue the series! ♥ RTC

This was the first classic I've read in years, but I'd never given it a chance before and when my friend Ellyn raved about it to me, I decided I would. I generally don't like classics much (I know, I know, hold your bricks, please), and this one definitely suffered from the biggest problem I have with many of them: every character took 6 paragraphs to say what a sentence would have sufficed. I think, if you cut out all of the overly repetitive bits of dialogue, this book would've been a solid 25% shorter, yeah?

That said, I had a good time reading this and was reminded yet again that Jane Austen is the essential mother of angsty, pitiful pining in romance stories, which I enjoy to no end. Wentworth's letter was precious, the commentary on equality of the genders was fantastic (especially for its time), and despite 99% of the characters being horrendously unlovable, Anne is a new favorite romance heroine of mine. All in all, it was time well spent!

I don't even know how to put into words just how much this graphic novel meant to me. A story about eating disorders and body dysmorphia, two things I can relate far too well to, written so thoughtfully by someone who has lived it and understands it — all of that, combined with an absolutely beautiful art style and color palette, and a sweet, hopeful storyline — I can't say enough how much I adored this. I was an absolute sobbing wreck by the end because I felt so damn seen and I didn't know how much I needed this soft little reminder to love myself.

I do think it's worth mentioning that this may not work for everyone. It takes a fairly brutally honest look at eating disorders and at fat-shaming, especially in the form of comments from our own loved ones who "swear they only mean well!" While I think the story would have felt unrealistic if it had not contained these themes, I would implore anyone who's lived these experiences firsthand to make sure you're in the right state of mind for those painful reminders before picking this up. ♥

Content warnings for

Spoiler

fat-shaming, bulimia, anorexia, body dysmorphia

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

Wow, this was absolutely magnificent. It was my first Caitlin Doughty read, but it certainly won't be my last. First of all, I love Caitlin's sense of humor so much, and it conveys just as well through text as it does in her videos. I know it's a book about death, but I found myself laughing out loud so many times and bugging my spouse endlessly with quotes from this book.

That said, it's also incredibly informative! She doesn't pull any punches but isn't overly descriptive, either, so even if you're a bit queasy, I bet anyone could enjoy this. I also think it would be great for readers from elementary school up to any age, as it definitely doesn't read like a kids' book, but is very kid-friendly at the same time. I'd recommend this book to literally anyone and everyone interested in learning more about what happens to our bodies after we die, and I can't wait to pick up another of her books.

What an incredible, powerful memoir.

I knew, going into this, that it was going to be an extremely emotional read. I can't even begin to relate to the level of pain that actual Japanese-American people have felt, and perhaps will always feel, in regard to this horrible, bleak time in US history. As an outsider, though, the stories of internment camps have haunted me since I first began hearing them, and I knew this was a story I had to read. I can't remember the last time I cried this hard reading anything. I started weeping probably 3-4 pages in and could hardly stop until several minutes after turning the last page. This is an absolutely devastating, gut-wrenching memoir that makes me sick with shame over any of it ever having happened to so many innocent people.

On a happier note, George Takei is a lovely storyteller, the art in this was engaging and sweet, and I think George Takei's parents were truly national treasures that deserve to be lauded as heroes. ♥

Growing up on Goosebumps and loving it as much as I did (and still do, tbh), I was so excited to see that a graphic novel series had kicked off, and I wasn't disappointed at all! This was just like the books: cheesy, campy, comedic, and cute, with a fun little cliffhanger ending. Most of all, I am stunned that I got to grow up to see a legit Goosebumps title, with R.L. Stine's blessing and everything, featuring queer girls as main characters (and girls of color, at that!). I can't describe how big of a deal this feels like to me. When I can see diverse rep being normalized even in my own childhood faves or their spin-offs, that just means so much to me. Thank you to Jen Vaughn & Michelle Wong for revitalizing this lovable, classic kids' horror series and giving it such a beautiful breath of fresh air. ♥