Take a photo of a barcode or cover
howlinglibraries's Reviews (1.85k)
I could hear Paul telling me, "Never, never make the mistake of thinking you're the only alien on the planet."
First of all, I can't believe this is the first time I'm reviewing this book, because it's honestly been on my "favorite books of all time" list since, I don't know, 2005? Maybe earlier? It's an amazing book and I've reread it probably a dozen times, and it never gets old. It is easily the most underrated book I've ever read in my life and I would implore everyone to pick it up. ASAP.
I have literally no complaints about this book. None. It is wonderfully progressive for its time period (Idk about you guys, but most of my 90s YA experience has been problematic AF), it has a beautiful plot that offers up the reminder that you have no idea what a person has been through, or what fine hells they have walked. It's a story of friendship, family, healing, grief, abuse, and most of all, love - in all of its various forms.
PLOT ➳➳
It's bad enough that Ginny's big brother has moved halfway across the country, but now she has to move, too - and start a new high school in her senior year? Yikes. All isn't lost, though, when she befriends her next-door neighbor, and by proxy, the boy from the next house over: Smitty, or as their less tactful classmates call him, "The Alien". Smitty hasn't spoken since he was two years old, and refuses to interact socially with anyone. Despite the barriers between them, Ginny and Caulder are determined to crack Smitty's shell, but when they start digging, they find that the truth is much more horrifying and traumatic than anyone realized.
CHARACTERS ➳➳
Ginny is just a really authentic, honest, flawed MC and I love that about her. She's never so flawed as to be outright unlikable or annoying, but she's honest about the fact that she's a bit of a coward - she's afraid of things and people she doesn't understand (like Smitty). When push comes to shove, though, she's fierce and protective and just feels like a real person.
Caulder becomes Ginny's best friend, and their friendship is really the star of most of this book's "show". I love the fact that Kristen was willing to write a genuinely best-friendship between two opposite-sex hetero teens... that is completely platonic and adorable and perfect and loving. This book has friendship goals FO LYF.
Last but obviously not least, I have to talk about Smitty. It's no spoiler that he has some sort of character development outside of just being "The Alien"; otherwise, we'd have no plot. He's such a pure and perfect adorable little soul and I just wanted to squeeze him all the time because he deserves everything good. Smitty is the definition of a little cinnamon roll baby. ❤
I recommend this book to literally everyone, whether you're a YA reader or not, whether you're a contemporary reader or not, whether the plot attracts you or not... It's just golden.
When I first heard about this, I wasn’t sure what to expect. I saw it hailed as a dark fairytale retelling, but I’ve been promised that many times by other stories that delivered on the “retelling” while leaving aside any hints of the “dark” aspect. Damsel, on the other hand, is exactly what it promises—an incredibly dark fantasy story that pulls no punches.
The story itself is genuinely intriguing, and I loved Ama as a character. She’s so unapologetically herself, and she simply doesn’t grasp why things are the way they are, or why she’s expected to act or look certain ways. Even when she tries to make herself look small and sweet for the sake of self-defense, the rope always snaps and she comes out swinging in the end, a fighter in every sense of the word.
Emory, on the other hand… I wanted to punch Emory in the throat from literally the first chapter. (I actually made a note in my eARC in chapter 1 saying as much.) He’s obsessed with himself and what he considers to be his heroic nature, and all of that’s even before the really terrible things about him come into play. Never trust the prince whose life goal is murdering a dragon, that’s what I always say… Emory embodies everything that’s wrong with the “damsel in distress” trope, the “Prince Charming” nonsense that films and books have fed us over the years, and the idea that any woman owes anything to a man who “saved” her from a dragon she never even sought rescue from.
Though there are multiple awful characters you will hate every moment of the way, and though the content is heavy and uncomfortable most of the time, the writing behind it all is so gorgeous and whimsical (despite a few phrases for genitalia that made me snicker), and Arnold is clearly skilled in her art. There are so many subtle things that came together in the end to surprise me, and I couldn’t put the story down because I constantly needed to know what would happen next.
As for the dark subject matter: the heavy content is why this story meant so much to me. We see feminist fantasy stories released all the time in YA lately, but they’re usually tame and merely hint at issues. Damsel, on the other hand, takes those issues and shoves them right in your face, forcing you to address their existence. This book is full of sexual assault (some of it explicit), abuse of humans and animals, misogyny, rape culture, self-harm, and suicide. Through all of that, it’s clear that Arnold is fed up with the state of the world and has refused to pull any punches in her writing, and I applaud her for that brutal honesty.
A lot of people are questioning whether Damsel should be marketed as YA fantasy. While I wouldn’t otherwise have a problem with it being YA (as I’m a big believer that what teens read should be between them and their parents—plenty of teens will be able to handle this content without issue), a part of me thinks it would be better if Damsel was marketed to an adult audience, simply because I don’t feel like this story deserves to be punished for its truthfulness.
All in all, if you’re interested in picking up a copy of Damsel, please be aware of the trigger warnings going into it. I have read a ridiculous amount of YA fantasy in my life, and very rarely has any of it made me feel quite as bothered and anxious as this book did. That said, I genuinely believe that sometimes—if we can handle it—we need to feel disgusted, to be reminded of just how toxic our society’s treatment of women can be. If you can stomach it, Damsel is the perfect resource to take you there.
All quotes come from an advance copy and may not match the final release. Thank you so much to Balzer + Bray 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!
“That is the way of being a woman, to carve away at herself, to fit herself to the task, but, also, to be able to carve herself in a different way, when a different shape is needed.”
The story itself is genuinely intriguing, and I loved Ama as a character. She’s so unapologetically herself, and she simply doesn’t grasp why things are the way they are, or why she’s expected to act or look certain ways. Even when she tries to make herself look small and sweet for the sake of self-defense, the rope always snaps and she comes out swinging in the end, a fighter in every sense of the word.
“The tastes of men are not all kind.”
Emory, on the other hand… I wanted to punch Emory in the throat from literally the first chapter. (I actually made a note in my eARC in chapter 1 saying as much.) He’s obsessed with himself and what he considers to be his heroic nature, and all of that’s even before the really terrible things about him come into play. Never trust the prince whose life goal is murdering a dragon, that’s what I always say… Emory embodies everything that’s wrong with the “damsel in distress” trope, the “Prince Charming” nonsense that films and books have fed us over the years, and the idea that any woman owes anything to a man who “saved” her from a dragon she never even sought rescue from.
Before Emory had saved her from the dragon, Ama had never been lonely.
Though there are multiple awful characters you will hate every moment of the way, and though the content is heavy and uncomfortable most of the time, the writing behind it all is so gorgeous and whimsical (despite a few phrases for genitalia that made me snicker), and Arnold is clearly skilled in her art. There are so many subtle things that came together in the end to surprise me, and I couldn’t put the story down because I constantly needed to know what would happen next.
“And if something is the way it has always been, who are we to wish it otherwise? Who are we to want anything at all?”
As for the dark subject matter: the heavy content is why this story meant so much to me. We see feminist fantasy stories released all the time in YA lately, but they’re usually tame and merely hint at issues. Damsel, on the other hand, takes those issues and shoves them right in your face, forcing you to address their existence. This book is full of sexual assault (some of it explicit), abuse of humans and animals, misogyny, rape culture, self-harm, and suicide. Through all of that, it’s clear that Arnold is fed up with the state of the world and has refused to pull any punches in her writing, and I applaud her for that brutal honesty.
“I have learned, lady, that ‘why’ is a dangerous word.”
A lot of people are questioning whether Damsel should be marketed as YA fantasy. While I wouldn’t otherwise have a problem with it being YA (as I’m a big believer that what teens read should be between them and their parents—plenty of teens will be able to handle this content without issue), a part of me thinks it would be better if Damsel was marketed to an adult audience, simply because I don’t feel like this story deserves to be punished for its truthfulness.
“Wild beasts are not meant to be tamed.”
All in all, if you’re interested in picking up a copy of Damsel, please be aware of the trigger warnings going into it. I have read a ridiculous amount of YA fantasy in my life, and very rarely has any of it made me feel quite as bothered and anxious as this book did. That said, I genuinely believe that sometimes—if we can handle it—we need to feel disgusted, to be reminded of just how toxic our society’s treatment of women can be. If you can stomach it, Damsel is the perfect resource to take you there.
All quotes come from an advance copy and may not match the final release. Thank you so much to Balzer + Bray 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!
First of all, this is one hell of a heavy book, so I want to start off by saying that the book (and this review) come with trigger warnings for abuse (in every possible way: mental, emotional, verbal, physical, sexual, and parental), attempted suicide, and many suicidal thoughts.
With that said, let me be candid: this is the most authentic, honest, and true-to-life portrayal of an abusive relationship that I have ever seen in a book. I have never wished so badly not to relate to a story, but if you changed a few names and faces, you would find a younger me between these pages. And if you, too, can find yourself mirrored here, please proceed with the utmost self-care, because Grace’s story is a tough one to read, but it’s even tougher to remember in your own experiences.
Bad Romance’s depiction of abuse is one that many survivors know too well: a relationship that starts off beautifully and carefree. If there are red flags (and let’s be honest—there almost always are), they’re quiet ones, easy enough to ignore or explain away. Have you ever heard the story of the frog in boiling water? If you drop the frog right in, it will jump out immediately—but if you put him in while the water is lukewarm, and slowly up the temperature, the poor thing will never know the danger it’s in until it’s too late and the damage points have started racking up. That’s this story.
What makes Bad Romance unique, besides its pull-no-punches attitude and the authenticity that could come only from the heart of someone who’s been there (and sadly, Heather Demetrios has), is the format that it’s written in. It’s a mixture of first and second persons, and it reads almost like a long letter from Grace to Gavin, set after she has gotten out of the situation. While its time frame makes it hopeful, as you always know that there will be an “after”, the phrasing directed right at her abuser gives it a spurned, angry edge that’s practically tangible. I feel that it’s a brilliant writing decision for the story at hand; while it wouldn’t work for every contemporary novel, it magnifies the impact of this one tenfold.
There’s also a lot of chatter about suicide in this book: before the relationship forms, Gavin has survived one suicide attempt already, and throughout the book, his endless, looming threat to try again acts as a heavy-handed and disgusting manipulation tactic in the relationship. That said, I appreciated that I never felt as though depression or suicidal ideation was being demonized in any way; Heather Demetrios makes it clear that these issues are related to his manipulative and abusive tendencies, not just his depression or anxiety.
There’s also something to be said for the fact that Grace is living in an abusive home, where she faces constant neglect, harassment, and assault from both her mother and step-father. There’s a lot of psychology to unpack behind the fact that many individuals who miss or overlook the early red flags in abusive relationships do so because terrible behaviors have already been normalized in their lives (hence “generational curses” and cycles of the like). My only complaint is that I do feel like Grace’s mother is let off the hook rather easily near the end of the book, but I feel that it’s important to remember that abuse victims can still abuse others, too, and there’s no excuse or justification for that.
There’s a lot more I could tell you about this book, like the ways it made me recognize behaviors in my past relationships that I hadn’t faced yet, or the passages that helped me reevaluate my own past and recognize the healing I’m still working towards. I could tell you that certain aspects of this story paralleled the end of my worst relationship like a perfect mirror, and how much I appreciated the way Heather Demetrios doesn’t shy away from pointing out the problems in some of those coping mechanisms, too. I could tell you that, on a happier note, there’s an underlying current throughout the story of musicals and theatre and plays, and there’s girl-on-girl friendship and loyalty for days.
But honestly, at the end of the day, all I want to tell you is that this book is incredible and cathartic and honest and brutal and bold. And I want to tell you that if you, too, have been in Grace’s shoes, it can be so much better than that. If you need help or healing, please seek it, because you deserve the stars.
You can find this review and more on my blog, or you can follow me on twitter, bookstagram, or facebook!
With that said, let me be candid: this is the most authentic, honest, and true-to-life portrayal of an abusive relationship that I have ever seen in a book. I have never wished so badly not to relate to a story, but if you changed a few names and faces, you would find a younger me between these pages. And if you, too, can find yourself mirrored here, please proceed with the utmost self-care, because Grace’s story is a tough one to read, but it’s even tougher to remember in your own experiences.
Maybe the only way you really know you love someone is if they can break you with a single sentence.
Bad Romance’s depiction of abuse is one that many survivors know too well: a relationship that starts off beautifully and carefree. If there are red flags (and let’s be honest—there almost always are), they’re quiet ones, easy enough to ignore or explain away. Have you ever heard the story of the frog in boiling water? If you drop the frog right in, it will jump out immediately—but if you put him in while the water is lukewarm, and slowly up the temperature, the poor thing will never know the danger it’s in until it’s too late and the damage points have started racking up. That’s this story.
I don’t realize now, but this is the moment. The moment when the rest of my life in high school—the rest of my whole life—will change. The moment when I begin to lose a part of myself I’ll have to fight like hell to get back.
What makes Bad Romance unique, besides its pull-no-punches attitude and the authenticity that could come only from the heart of someone who’s been there (and sadly, Heather Demetrios has), is the format that it’s written in. It’s a mixture of first and second persons, and it reads almost like a long letter from Grace to Gavin, set after she has gotten out of the situation. While its time frame makes it hopeful, as you always know that there will be an “after”, the phrasing directed right at her abuser gives it a spurned, angry edge that’s practically tangible. I feel that it’s a brilliant writing decision for the story at hand; while it wouldn’t work for every contemporary novel, it magnifies the impact of this one tenfold.
The sad swims through your veins, dives right into the middle of your chest with no help at all from me.
There’s also a lot of chatter about suicide in this book: before the relationship forms, Gavin has survived one suicide attempt already, and throughout the book, his endless, looming threat to try again acts as a heavy-handed and disgusting manipulation tactic in the relationship. That said, I appreciated that I never felt as though depression or suicidal ideation was being demonized in any way; Heather Demetrios makes it clear that these issues are related to his manipulative and abusive tendencies, not just his depression or anxiety.
Now I look at that girl who adores you, who thinks she’s safe with you, and I want to scream at her to jump out of that car and run like hell. Because you won’t be her happy place for long.
There’s also something to be said for the fact that Grace is living in an abusive home, where she faces constant neglect, harassment, and assault from both her mother and step-father. There’s a lot of psychology to unpack behind the fact that many individuals who miss or overlook the early red flags in abusive relationships do so because terrible behaviors have already been normalized in their lives (hence “generational curses” and cycles of the like). My only complaint is that I do feel like Grace’s mother is let off the hook rather easily near the end of the book, but I feel that it’s important to remember that abuse victims can still abuse others, too, and there’s no excuse or justification for that.
This is something else I will learn while I am with you—not now, but later: there are so many ways to drown.
There’s a lot more I could tell you about this book, like the ways it made me recognize behaviors in my past relationships that I hadn’t faced yet, or the passages that helped me reevaluate my own past and recognize the healing I’m still working towards. I could tell you that certain aspects of this story paralleled the end of my worst relationship like a perfect mirror, and how much I appreciated the way Heather Demetrios doesn’t shy away from pointing out the problems in some of those coping mechanisms, too. I could tell you that, on a happier note, there’s an underlying current throughout the story of musicals and theatre and plays, and there’s girl-on-girl friendship and loyalty for days.
But honestly, at the end of the day, all I want to tell you is that this book is incredible and cathartic and honest and brutal and bold. And I want to tell you that if you, too, have been in Grace’s shoes, it can be so much better than that. If you need help or healing, please seek it, because you deserve the stars.
National Domestic Violence Hotline: 1-800-799-SAFE
National Sexual Assault Hotline: 1-800-656-HOPE
National Child Abuse Hotline: 1-800-4-A-CHILD
Love is Respect: 1-866-331-9474, loveisrespect.org, or text "love is" to 22522
You can find this review and more on my blog, or you can follow me on twitter, bookstagram, or facebook!
Evidently, my autumn 2018 aesthetic is devouring every haunted house story I can get my hands on, and Kill Creek has been one of the strangest, most unexpected stories yet. It makes perfect sense that it’s being adapted for Showtime right now, because I don’t think I’ve ever read a book that felt as much like a horror movie/show as this one does.
First, the house itself is easily my favorite aspect of this novel. It’s got this incredibly morbid past with a slew of haunting incidents, bizarre old ladies (because what’s a good haunted house without a creepy old lady haunting it, honestly?), and a stairway leading to a solid brick wall. The atmosphere? On point.
Not only do I love a good, atmospheric location, but Kill Creek brings a cast of complex and interesting characters to the table, too. There’s Sam McGarver, the primary main, who won me over from the very beginning by introducing himself with a tangent about subgenres and what defines gothic horror. He’s got a twisted background that is only revealed to us in snippets here and there, each one darker than the last, but he’s a genuinely good guy and you can’t help but root for him.
Next up is TC Moore, who I initially held conflicted feelings about but grew to enjoy. She’s an extreme horror author, and consistently the butt of jokes about the sexual and graphic content in her stories (which felt very true-to-life considering the way much of the horror literature fandom treats fans of extreme horror, as well as the authors themselves). Sam is quick to come to her defense in a way that’s just obvious enough to indicate that the petty teasing isn’t the author’s own perspective on extreme horror.
Then comes Daniel Slaughter, the Christian teen horror author whose entire character arc cracked me up, because I grew up in a strict religious home where I was limited to religious or “clean” fiction for a long time, and Daniel reminded me way too much of a few authors I reached for as a kid. I’m seeing a lot of reviewers call him the RL Stine knock-off character of the story, and I could see that, but I’d also say he reminds me of Frank Peretti. (Hangman’s Curse, anyone?)
And finally, my favorite—Sebastian Cole, our King-esque trendsetter. He’s an older gentleman who’s been a bestseller for nearly as long as the other three have been alive, and he’s full to the brim of advice despite holding a few outdated opinions on the genre. He’s downright full of surprises—both good and bad—but ultimately, I’m always a sucker for the “old mentor” character archetype.
So far, we’ve got the mood, setting, characters—all that’s left to rave about is the action, which doesn’t pick up right away, but bear with it, because the second half makes up for it. The ending had me on the edge of my seat, totally unwilling to tear myself away for even a moment, and just when I thought I had figured things out, a wrench would be thrown in the works that totally threw my guesses out the window.
I only have two negative things to say about Kill Creek, so let’s get them out of the way:
1. The pacing, at times, is a struggle. There are segments that dragged, though they are filled with enough character building that I was never necessarily bored. I just wanted a little bit more from those chapters.
2. TC Moore. Don’t get me wrong, I love angry feminist characters. I relate to them (ha!). Moore just takes it to this unreasonable level at times, so there were occasional moments where I couldn’t tell if these features were just part of her character, or if it was intended to be an exaggerated, caricature. Given that she progresses into a tremendously more likable person as the story goes on, and I found myself rooting for her by the end, I think the intentions were good, but she grated on me for the first 100 pages or so.
That’s it! All that raving and only two (pretty minor) issues, so I’m sure it’s no surprise that I gave this 4.5 stars (and felt comfortable rounding up to 5). If you enjoy unique haunted house stories and don’t mind a solid helping of character development and world-building within your horror, I strongly recommend grabbing a copy of Kill Creek and settling in. This would be a perfect addition to your Halloween reading list!
---
Buddy read with Reg!
No house is born bad. Most are thought of fondly, even lovingly. In the beginning, the house on Kill Creek was no exception.
First, the house itself is easily my favorite aspect of this novel. It’s got this incredibly morbid past with a slew of haunting incidents, bizarre old ladies (because what’s a good haunted house without a creepy old lady haunting it, honestly?), and a stairway leading to a solid brick wall. The atmosphere? On point.
“Funny thing about rumors,” Sebastian said softly. “It doesn’t matter if they’re true or false, only that people believe them.”
Not only do I love a good, atmospheric location, but Kill Creek brings a cast of complex and interesting characters to the table, too. There’s Sam McGarver, the primary main, who won me over from the very beginning by introducing himself with a tangent about subgenres and what defines gothic horror. He’s got a twisted background that is only revealed to us in snippets here and there, each one darker than the last, but he’s a genuinely good guy and you can’t help but root for him.
Next up is TC Moore, who I initially held conflicted feelings about but grew to enjoy. She’s an extreme horror author, and consistently the butt of jokes about the sexual and graphic content in her stories (which felt very true-to-life considering the way much of the horror literature fandom treats fans of extreme horror, as well as the authors themselves). Sam is quick to come to her defense in a way that’s just obvious enough to indicate that the petty teasing isn’t the author’s own perspective on extreme horror.
Then comes Daniel Slaughter, the Christian teen horror author whose entire character arc cracked me up, because I grew up in a strict religious home where I was limited to religious or “clean” fiction for a long time, and Daniel reminded me way too much of a few authors I reached for as a kid. I’m seeing a lot of reviewers call him the RL Stine knock-off character of the story, and I could see that, but I’d also say he reminds me of Frank Peretti. (Hangman’s Curse, anyone?)
And finally, my favorite—Sebastian Cole, our King-esque trendsetter. He’s an older gentleman who’s been a bestseller for nearly as long as the other three have been alive, and he’s full to the brim of advice despite holding a few outdated opinions on the genre. He’s downright full of surprises—both good and bad—but ultimately, I’m always a sucker for the “old mentor” character archetype.
She stayed because the men did. She stayed because of pride. She had fought too hard against these condescending pigs to walk out now.
So far, we’ve got the mood, setting, characters—all that’s left to rave about is the action, which doesn’t pick up right away, but bear with it, because the second half makes up for it. The ending had me on the edge of my seat, totally unwilling to tear myself away for even a moment, and just when I thought I had figured things out, a wrench would be thrown in the works that totally threw my guesses out the window.
I only have two negative things to say about Kill Creek, so let’s get them out of the way:
1. The pacing, at times, is a struggle. There are segments that dragged, though they are filled with enough character building that I was never necessarily bored. I just wanted a little bit more from those chapters.
2. TC Moore. Don’t get me wrong, I love angry feminist characters. I relate to them (ha!). Moore just takes it to this unreasonable level at times, so there were occasional moments where I couldn’t tell if these features were just part of her character, or if it was intended to be an exaggerated, caricature. Given that she progresses into a tremendously more likable person as the story goes on, and I found myself rooting for her by the end, I think the intentions were good, but she grated on me for the first 100 pages or so.
The house on Kill Creek still stands. Empty. Quiet. But not forgotten. Not entirely. Rumors are its life, stories its breath.
That’s it! All that raving and only two (pretty minor) issues, so I’m sure it’s no surprise that I gave this 4.5 stars (and felt comfortable rounding up to 5). If you enjoy unique haunted house stories and don’t mind a solid helping of character development and world-building within your horror, I strongly recommend grabbing a copy of Kill Creek and settling in. This would be a perfect addition to your Halloween reading list!
---
Buddy read with Reg!
#1 Vicious ★★★★★
#2 Vengeful ???
Vicious isn’t the easiest book to review, because it isn’t the easiest book to describe. Before reading it, I’d asked a few friends what they thought of it, and everyone said the same thing: You have to experience it for yourself. They were absolutely right, but that’s obviously not going to stop me from taking a moment to ramble about yet another incredible Schwab title.
“There are no good men in this game.”
First, let me say that not only is the writing wonderfully on par for Schwab’s typical excellence in storytelling, but the entire plot she has created here in so captivating. The idea of this reality so much like our own, with one difference that seems so small, yet impacts so much—that an individual who has been brought back from death would suddenly gain superpowers—sucked me in from the start.
All Eli had to do was smile. All Victor had to do was lie. Both proved frighteningly effective.
The storyline itself is complemented by a magnificent, unique way of telling the story: the chapters of the book are nonlinear, jumping back and forth through time to put the whole picture together. It’s a writing style that I don’t think most authors could pull off, but I was not surprised in the slightest to quickly realize that not only could Schwab pull it off, she wielded it with such seamless grace that I was left more than a little stunned. I feel like I say this all the time, but there are authors and then there are these genius artists, and she is absolutely of the latter group. I can never seem to get enough of her writing voice.
Plenty of humans were monstrous, and plenty of monsters knew how to play at being human.
All the rest aside, though, what might be my favorite aspect of Schwab’s stories is how lovable her characters can be, even when they’re doing awful things. Despite his grey morality (or perhaps because of it?), I felt like I loved Victor Vale from the moment we met him, and only grew to cherish him more as the book progressed. At his side, Mitch and Sydney (and Dol, of course) both won me over just as effortlessly, and within a few chapters, I found myself thinking that I’m going to be absolutely devastated whenever the time comes to say goodbye to this strange little crew.
“What gives you the right to play judge and jury and executioner?”
If you’ve had any reservations at all about picking up this series, I cannot encourage you enough—please, rush out and get yourself a copy of this book straight away, and take the advice that I was given, and would now pass on to you: no matter how much I could rave about this story, you have to experience it for yourself.
You can find this review and more on my blog, or you can follow me on twitter, bookstagram, or facebook!
---
Buddy read with my sweet love and partner in Schwab-land, Terry!
#1 Reign of the Fallen ★★★★★
#2 Song of the Dead ★★★★★
Reign of the Fallen was one of my most anticipated releases of this year, and it did not disappoint at all. The world of Karthia was so unique and intriguing, and the cast of characters were diverse and tremendously lovable. More than anything, this story took me by surprise with how dark it was; I knew going into it that it involved necromancy, but I never expected how much it would focus on grief and healing.
If you asked me what the primary focus of this book is, I wouldn’t say it’s zombies, or necromancy – I would say that its primary focus is how to move on from the loss of a loved one, and how to find ourselves again after losing ourselves in our pain.
“What if our magic is the weapon that brings Karthia to its knees?”
→ Karthia & magic ←
The world of Karthia feels small, but well-developed. It has reached a standstill due to the King’s fear of change; his reluctance for progress has halted any forms of inventions or medical advancements, as well as refusing any heirs from taking the throne. Instead, King Wylding and his court reign eternal as the shrouded Dead.
The Dead need me far more than the living, and I, them. Without Dead to raise, I’d be nothing but an orphan. As long as the Dead are around, I’m their Sparrow.
Alongside the living and the Dead are those with magic, and I genuinely loved the setup of the magic system in the world of Karthia: individuals have inclinations for specific abilities based on their eye colors. Blue eyes lend to necromancy, while green eyes are for beast-masters, grey eyes indicate weather mages, and so on. Not every individual chooses to use their gifts, but those who do, train to become Masters and are regarded with the utmost respect.
There’s an old saying that sparrows always find their way home.
→ Odessa, grief, & addiction ←
Our narrator, Odessa, is a necromancer bearing the title “Sparrow”, as she’s incredibly talented at finding her way home (which is not always an easy task in the ever-shifting Deadlands). Not only is she proficient, but she’s a delightful narrator: she’s strong, fierce, passionate, loving, and loyal – all of these, at times, to a fault. During the events of the book, Odessa loses someone very dear to her, and that’s where the depiction of grief comes in.
The sun still rises and sets, like it always has. It seems cruel that it wouldn’t stop, just for a little while, to show how much darker the world is without them in it.
I have read so many books about grief that I thought I’d seen every portrayal, good or bad, but Reign took me entirely by surprise. Odessa’s grief is written so genuinely, so authentically, that despite my personal ambivalent feelings for the character who passed away, I found myself mourning them for her. Her heartbreak oozes off the pages, and when she becomes addicted to the potions that numb her aches and offer her comforting hallucinations, you can’t help but understand why she’s using them as a coping mechanism. It’s the only way Odessa knows how to survive for quite some time, and because it feels so raw and is built up so thoroughly, her inevitable success in conquering her addiction made me want to jump up and cheer for her.
The sadness in his gaze when he looks at me – which the blue tonic never let me see – is just one more reason I’ll fight to never touch another drop.
One thing I would like to comment on is that I’ve seen other reviewers say they felt it was unnecessary to depict addiction in a YA novel or a fantasy story, and I’d like to offer another perspective on that. Substance abuse addiction is a very real issue that humans face everyday, in all walks of life and all parts of the world. It is tremendously misunderstood, and many people struggling with addictions are looked down upon, as though they have intentionally brought it upon themselves. Reign showcases a perfect example of how easy it can be to become addicted to a substance, especially in an instance like Odessa’s, when the tonics she craves are the only thing that can keep her from drowning in her grief and guilt.
I strongly believe one of the greatest things about books – and the YA community, as of late – is the opportunity to normalize subjects that are viewed as “taboo”, and by normalizing them, readers can learn how to empathize and to understand. Having watched my loved ones’ lives fall to pieces due to addictions, Odessa’s struggles resonated so soundly with me, and I am eternally grateful to Sarah for being willing to go there.
That’s what made me so well-suited for walking in the Deadlands, they said. My love of life.
→ friends & diversity ←
Besides Odessa, this story is absolutely filled to the brim with side characters, so lovable that they deserved their own sections:
• Odessa’s boyfriend, Evander, who frustrated me at times, early in the story, but is incredibly caring and a talented necromancer
• There’s Jax, who plays a bit of the “big jock” stereotype at times, but is a formidable ally and someone that Odessa never regrets having in her corner
• Kasmira, the beautiful ship captain whose preferred pasttimes seem to be trading illicit goods (like coffee beans) for gold and a bit of flirting (no lie, I shipped her and Odessa so hard at the beginning!)
• Valoria, the princess, is far brighter and more innovative than any “princess in the castle” stereotype you’ve ever seen
• Odessa’s adopted brother Simeon, and his partner Danial, are the precious cinnamon rolls of the story, and I loved them both to pieces and wanted so much more interaction with them
• Meredy, the clever, fiery beast-master, and her bonded companion, an intuitive grizzly bear named Lysander, with a personality as big as his body
I loved how diverse this cast of characters was. Sarah wrote a world in which racial tensions are nonexistent (on that note, Kasmira is black, and while I’m unsure of Odessa’s race, she describes her skin as being a dark brown in the beginning), and heteronormativity is never mentioned once – Odessa is bisexual (own-voice rep), Meredy and Kasmira are both attracted to women, and Simeon and Danial are gay. I loved how completely normalized and casual the representation was! As a queer woman, I live for normalized rep, especially in fantasy novels.
I only cry because their love is still with me, a familiar ache in my chest. I’ll carry it with me, always, something no one can ever erase.
→ final thoughts ←
I went into this book with a strong suspicion that I would love it, and I absolutely did. I think I was only a few chapters in the first time I predicted that I would be giving it 5 stars in the end, and here we are. I thought this was a phenomenal beginning to a series, and I cannot wait to see where Sarah takes Odessa in the next piece of the story. If you enjoy dark fantasy and authentic representation, plus a lot of necromancy and dead things, do not walk, run to pick up a copy of this incredible story.
Thank you to Samm for sending me an ARC of this book! My opinions were entirely my own. All quotes come from an unfinished ARC and may differ from the final product; also, some quotes have been slightly changed to remove names and spoilers.
That was as deliciously unsettling and beautifully crafted as everything else I have read from Kealan has been. Full review coming soon!
I dig this a lot so far, but I really want to catch up on ARCs and I'm just having the hardest time justifying taking time away from that to read random titles off my own shelves. Plus, I think the atmosphere in this feels like the kind of thing I'd enjoy more once it cools off outside, if that makes any sense?
Read this story for free here on Tor.com!
I had read this story once before, in the collection [b:Worlds Seen in Passing: Ten Years of Tor.com Short Fiction|37534910|Worlds Seen in Passing Ten Years of Tor.com Short Fiction|Irene Gallo|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1516729337l/37534910._SY75_.jpg|59136283] (which is a magnificent anthology that I highly recommend to anyone looking for an impressive fill of SFF and horror tales), but when my friend Mark reminded me of its existence today, I knew I was overdue a re-read. This was one of my favorite stories in that collection, and I loved it even more upon re-visiting it.
When it comes to wicked step-mothers, sometimes there's more than meets the eye.
I had read this story once before, in the collection [b:Worlds Seen in Passing: Ten Years of Tor.com Short Fiction|37534910|Worlds Seen in Passing Ten Years of Tor.com Short Fiction|Irene Gallo|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1516729337l/37534910._SY75_.jpg|59136283] (which is a magnificent anthology that I highly recommend to anyone looking for an impressive fill of SFF and horror tales), but when my friend Mark reminded me of its existence today, I knew I was overdue a re-read. This was one of my favorite stories in that collection, and I loved it even more upon re-visiting it.
When it comes to wicked step-mothers, sometimes there's more than meets the eye.
I didn't have "falling back into head-over-heels love with John Green's writing" on my 2021 bingo card, but here we are.
I grew up on JG's books, and they meant so much to me for so long, but somewhere along the way, I think I lost the connection a little. I wasn't even sure I wanted to read this collection of essays, but I decided to borrow it from the library and give it a try — and within the first essay, I was wholeheartedly sucked back into the beautiful way John views the world.
I learned so much, felt so much, related to so much, and am beyond happy to have read this book. The Anthropocene Reviewed feels like a book I'm going to carry in my heart for a long time to come.
———
twitter | booktok | bookstagram | blog
I grew up on JG's books, and they meant so much to me for so long, but somewhere along the way, I think I lost the connection a little. I wasn't even sure I wanted to read this collection of essays, but I decided to borrow it from the library and give it a try — and within the first essay, I was wholeheartedly sucked back into the beautiful way John views the world.
I learned so much, felt so much, related to so much, and am beyond happy to have read this book. The Anthropocene Reviewed feels like a book I'm going to carry in my heart for a long time to come.
———
twitter | booktok | bookstagram | blog