howlinglibraries's Reviews (1.85k)


“How do you not like the Internet? That's like saying, 'I don't like things that are convenient. And easy. I don't like having access to all of mankind's recorded discoveries at my fingertips. I don't like light. And knowledge.'”

So, let me start off by saying I almost DNF'd this one. I never DNF books, but the first chunk of it was just incredibly boring for me; I don't know if it was the mood I was in (as this had been my first "fluffy contemporary" in a few months, maybe longer), or if it was the book, but it wasn't holding my interest at all. If you look at the reading dates, you'll see I read this between March 18 and March 24: for the record, I read probably 70% or more of this on the evening of March 23/morning of March 24. Once I got into the meat of the book, it dragged me in so fast that I literally stayed up until 4AM to finish it, despite knowing my kiddo was gonna wake me up by 9. #noregrets

Okay, I digress. This book is ADORABLE. Cath is adorable. Levi is adorable. Reagan is hilarious. Wren is an ass, until she's not, so that's fine. Cath and Wren's dad is totally one of the best fictional dad characters I've ever read; he's an actual, complex, multi-dimensional character with likes and dislikes, flaws and qualities, and even a mental health problem of his own that we get to explore a bit throughout the unfolding events. I find that most YA contemporary authors write parents in one of two ways: an obstacle, or a prop. Rainbow Rowell steered clear of those tropes entirely by making Cath's dad literally my favorite character in the book.

Something that really endeared Rainbow's writing style to me, with this being my first time reading any of her work, was how unexpected the progression of the romance was. Early in the book, it almost feels like we're being led in one of two directions, and while you get a good hunch of which path we'll be taken on, it's not spelled out - or it wasn't in my opinion, at least. There wasn't a trace of insta-love in this book, which almost seems to overwhelm the YA contemporary genre these days, so it was incredibly refreshing to watch Cath gradually befriend, and eventually fall in love with, her love interest. (I literally won't even name who it is here, because I've spoken to people who admitted, while reading the book, they genuinely believed it would go in the opposite direction of the actual outcome.)

I also have to give Rainbow props for writing a genuinely believable character with an anxiety disorder. As someone who suffers from an anxiety disorder myself, I related so hard to so much of the mess that was going on in Cath's brain at any given time. One of my favorite quotes, in fact, made me laugh and sigh simultaneously because I thought of how many times I've said something similar to myself, in my own life:

“In new situations, all the trickiest rules are the ones nobody bothers to explain to you. (And the ones you can't Google.)”

Too true, Cath. Too true.

Anyways, I'm sorry that this review is a little scattered, but if I get any one point across to you, let it be this: if you enjoy fluffy contemporaries and are looking for an adorable, fun, geeky book to lose yourself in, let it be Fangirl.

Henry doesn't need love. It isn't that he's bitter, or stuck in the past - love just isn't something that has ever concerned him. He's got everything he needs, until Grace Town walks into his life. The unkempt girl with the limp, clad in men's clothing, shouldn't catch his eye, but she does, and before he knows it, Henry is sucked into a whirlwind of grief, love, and learning that sometimes, beauty lies in the brokenness.

5 stars! I adored the narrator. I can't recall the last time I read a YA contemporary that had a teenage boy for a narrator, who felt so believable and real and absolutely endearing. Henry's best friends are even better: Murray, the crazy Aussie outback survivor wannabe, and Lola, the Haitian/Chinese lesbian princess, are a constant source of humor, quick wit, brutal honesty, and friendly comforts. Unlike most "boy meets wounded girl" stories, I didn't get the Manic Pixie Dream Girl vibe, which was a relief in and of itself. The book is also surprisingly meta and self-aware, filled with pop culture and internet references, as well as careful dissections of its own characters.

Beyond this point: SPOILERS!

Grace Town, the "wounded girl" in this scenario, is frustrating in the best way, because she feels like too many people I've met in my own life. She punishes herself with grief and pain, refusing to move on from the lost love of her life: Dom, the deceased boyfriend she seems to constantly size Henry up against (and replaces Henry with altogether when she's drunk).

In the end, we learn that this book, unlike most YA contemporaries, does not have a "happy ending"; rather than letting Henry help her piece together the broken pieces of her soul, Grace continues life as a ghost, breaking Henry's heart over and over until he comes to terms with the fact that he is not her soul mate, no great love of hers; he is simply a temporary side character in her life, and one can never fault another for unrequited love.

As someone who has moved past a few tumultuous relationships with unrequited sincerity, Sutherland's writing was a journey all of its own; first, Henry's story tugged at old scars, a quiet reminder of the aches of the past, before smoothing them over with the knowledge that just because something didn't last, doesn't mean it was a waste.

Mud Vein is the story of a bestselling author who awakes on her 33rd birthday to find herself having been abducted and trapped in a secluded house, stocked with food, supplies, and the man who saved her years ago... but there's no way out, and no explanation. Just snow, and silence.

It wasn't like me, but everything had changed. And if he kept showing up for me, I could show up for him. Just this once.

Senna
Senna is such an incredible and unique narrator. She is cold, stone cold - brutally so. She's been hurt, and her defense is to shut people out - and we see that all the time in stories, but I've never seen anyone so committed to the cause as she is. Her choices are downright frustrating at times because they hurt so much to watch unfold, but I related so strongly to something inside of her. I have a horrible habit of disassociating and shutting people out, especially those who love me most, and overcoming that tendency is one of the most difficult challenges I ever have, or ever will, face. It's something I still work on, and seeing it laid out on paper was so eye-opening, because some of the things she said... I felt like I was looking at myself from the outside, and that is such a bizarre place to be, really.

Love sticks, and it stays and it braves the bullshit.

Isaac
What can I even say about Dr. Isaac Asterholder? He is so precious, and kind, and brave, and wonderful. His care is more than Senna thinks she deserves, but he is unwavering, determined to save her one more time. He is the perfect example of a loved one that is trying so desperately to climb the walls that she's put up in defense, no matter how many times the grit peels the skin from his palms.

I should have stayed home. I should have done anything but jog that trail, on that morning, at that time.

trauma
Senna undergoes so many brutal moments in her life, and the depiction given of her trauma is literal perfection. Her coping techniques are varied and sometimes unexpected, such as the need for white rooms and music without words, but they never feel as though they're written in to simply serve as plot devices; from cover to cover, Senna feels like a real, authentic human being telling us her story.

final thoughts
This book comes with a lot of trigger warnings. It's a tough read, involving rape, cancer, self-harm, and mental health struggles. There is a scene in this book that broke me. I've never known firsthand what it is to watch the person you care most about hurt themselves. Tarryn manages to put that feeling - the agony and helplessness - into words on paper. This scene forced me to evaluate a darkness I try too hard to hide, and I swear, it changed something inside of me. It made me think, for the first time in my life, that maybe I can beat this thing. That it's a thing worth beating.

I know this isn't what you came to this review for, and I'm sorry for rambling, but I needed to emphasize how much this story touched me. How much I needed it. I adored this book, and I would recommend it to anyone, so long as you're in the right head-space for how heavy the content is. I know this is a polarizing read, but I can't fathom having not loved it. I know I'll be reading more from Tarryn in the future... once my heart heals from this story, that is.

I went into this book expecting greatness, honestly. A book about fandoms, anxiety, and being a child of the internet? You already know I can get behind all of that. Plus, a romance that forms through written correspondence? MY LITERAL FAVORITE TROPE? Sign me up! … Unfortunately, though, Eliza wasn’t quite everything I hoped it would be.

“I made Monstrous Sea because it's the story I wanted. I wanted a story like it, and I couldn't find one, so I created it myself.”

→ Eliza Mirk ←
Eliza herself was the reason this was a 3-star read for me instead of a 5-star one. Literally, every single problem I had with this book? Eliza. Don’t get me wrong, she’s not unredeemable – she portrays fantastic anxiety rep that I related really well to, and her affinity for the webcomic she has created and its subsequent fandom reaches levels of love that I think a lot of us can understand. She’s immensely talented and a perfectionist to the point that she feels like she needs to work on her creations constantly, which is also a feeling I can get behind (hello, type A personalities!).

“Broken people don't hide from their monsters. Broken people let themselves be eaten.”

→ miscommunications & angst ←
I don’t want anyone thinking I’m over here holding teen characters to unfair standards. I genuinely don’t mind when YA protagonists get irrationally angry at their families, or don’t want to spend time with their siblings, or lash out at friends and love interests… usually. Eliza, unfortunately, takes it to a new level.

Her parents are a little bit inept and don’t have great communication, but it felt like the portrayal of their relationship was, in a sense, saying, “It’s okay to treat your parents like trash no matter how hard they try, because even if they try to understand you, they’re never going to!” We’ve all seen bad parents in YA, but the Mirks aren’t. They mess up, and they’re human, but they’re trying, and the biggest issue is, hands down, a lack of communication. While Eliza’s behavior is perfectly common for teens – especially those struggling with mental health issues – it doesn’t feel like it’s addressed or correctly quickly or well enough to justify its intensity.

“You found me in a constellation.”

→ Wallace Warland ←
The brightest spot in this book? Wallace, hands down. He’s the sort of character that you peg as the love interest from the moment he walks on to the page, but it’s hard to guess that he could be so adorable and wounded. He struggles from tremendous amounts of grief, as well as PTSD, and it manifests through his inability to speak out loud around most people (which is where the “written correspondence” trope gets its chance to shine). He is caring, kind, and so lovable, and honestly deserved better than some of the mess that Eliza put him through.

There is a scene towards the end of the book – I won’t spoil it, but if you’ve read it, you know the one – where Eliza gives Wallace a terrible scare, and his reaction had me unexpectedly sobbing because he is so desperately afraid of his past repeating itself before his eyes. He was easily the character that I connected the most to, emotionally, and by the time I turned the final page, I just wanted so much more time with him.

“Maybe that’s normal. The things you care most about are the ones that leave the biggest holes.”

→ Monstrous Sea ←
One of the things I found most interesting about the book, I have to mention here: the art and snippets from Eliza’s webcomic, Monstrous Sea, that we get to see here and there throughout the story. The art was so fun, and it was a really nice touch that made the webcomic feel like a real-life thing – I half-expected that I would be able to go to the URLs listed and find a full, thriving forum there for a fandom I’d never known existed. The storyline snippets, on the other hand, I thought were a little dull, and didn’t form a cohesive enough mini-story to bother with trying to follow closely, but I’m happy I got the physical formatting for the illustrations alone.

→ final thoughts ←
All in all, if you enjoy books that reference internet fandoms and online friends, as well as some really solid anxiety rep, I highly recommend this book, unless you have a problem with angsty, self-absorbed main characters. If you think that’s a feature that you’d find yourself unable to get past, as I know is the case for many people, I’d pass on this one.

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

Some people are attracted to tall people, or blonde people, or people with deep voices... but not Ray. No, Ray's preference is a little more unique than that: he's attracted to amputees — and ONLY amputees. It hasn't been much of a problem, but when he falls in love with an able-bodied new coworker, he has to find a way around his little "preference" if he doesn't want to lose the best relationship he's ever had.

Holy hell, that was a ride. The synopsis for this book is wild enough on its own, but then the execution? I was so nervous going into this, worrying that it would end up ableist and offensive as hell, but somehow, Tim managed to take this immensely polarizing, twisted plot and find a way to present it in the most tactful, respectful way possible.

While Limbs advertises itself as a love story, it's definitely also solidly horror, as there's also the terror of the fact that there is a slasher on the loose, and there's a lot of gore in some of Ray's internal monologues, especially during his most conflicted thoughts about his girlfriend. I'd most strongly recommend this for horror fans who don't mind a bit of sappy romance and have a sense of humor: if that sounds like you, please take the chance to read this bizarre, hilarious, creepy little novella because Tim's writing is just so much fun.

As someone who grew up on the BSC series, this was definitely a really lovely trip through nostalgia, though I don't think I would have enjoyed it as much if this had been something brand new to me. The story is still fun and the art is pretty but the dialogue feels kind of unnatural and strange.

MercyVerse — Author's Order (MT, A&O, novellas, etc.):
novellas: in progress
GNHomecoming: ★★★☆☆
MT — #1 Moon Called: ★★★★☆
AO — #0.5 Alpha & Omega: ★★★★☆
AO — #1 Cry Wolf:
AO — #2 Hunting Ground:
MT — #2 Blood Bound:
MT — #3 Iron Kissed:
MT — #4 Bone Crossed:
MT — #5 Silver Borne:
MT — #6 River Marked:
AO — #3 Fair Game:
MT — #7 Frost Burned:
AO — #4 Dead Heat:
MT — #8 Night Broken:
MT — #9 Fire Touched:
MT — #10 Silence Fallen:
AO — #5 Burn Bright:

I've already read Moon Called, but decided a little while back that I wanted to go back to the beginning and read everything in the author's intended order, including graphic novels and short stories. I think that made the plot of Homecoming more fun in a way, because it was neat to go back and see how Mercy ended up where she is in the beginning of Moon Called and how she met all of these characters.

On the other hand, the art in most of this graphic novel is... I'm sorry, it's really not enjoyable, and that's a basic requirement for me to give GNs good star ratings. Half of the graphic novel portrays Mercy in the most ridiculous and inconsistent ways (in one panel, she's super buff; in the next, she's ridiculously curvy with no muscle tone at all), while the other half literally looks like someone did mediocre 3D modeling of the panels and then sketched over it. I don't even know how else to explain it, but if you've read this, you probably know what I mean.

Anyways, do I recommend this for the full Mercyverse experience? For sure. It's interesting and we get to see how cute and goofy Stefan looks, which I loved. Is this a well-made graphic novel in its own rights, though? Not really.

The art was beautiful and the characters were cute, but the insta-love was SO HEAVY with Nanami's character that I had a hard time appreciating the budding romance. I'm also not really enjoying the general idea of Nanami being content with her unrequited love, though it's obvious that it won't stay that way forever. I also found this to be rather boring overall, sadly!

Sadly, I liked this volume even less than the first one. I think I would drop the series here, if I didn't have volumes 1-4 out on loan from the library right now. I was so excited to check this series out because, as a queer woman, I've never actually gotten to read an f/f mushy, cutesy manga before, and that's what I expected from this, but frankly, this "relationship" is downright unhealthy...