It's funny, this was easily my least favourite as a kid but I really loved it as an adult.

Originally posted on I Should Read That

I received a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.


A few years ago I stumbled upon a little book called Reasons to Stay Alive by Matt Haig. I cannot tell you what a game changing book this was for me. Here was this person who could talk about depression and anxiety with honesty, humour, and hope. It was the first time I really acknowledged my own mental health worries and it felt a little less alone. I figured this marvelous book was just a one-off, so you can imagine my delight when I found out he was writing a follow up, Notes on a Nervous Planet.

Where Reasons to Stay Alive is a very personal book, I felt that Notes on a Nervous Planet was a little less so. You still get the injections of Haig’s personal life, but Notes is much more of an examination of our relationship with social media, why we become obsessed with our phones and the news cycle, and how we can take back control. True to his prior nonfiction writing, this book is filled with insight, earnestness, and humour. The short chapters and list format in the book really make the pages fly by and his warm, open writing style makes it feel like a conversation with a friend. This is one of the reasons I love his nonfiction so much — these books truly make you feel like you’re not alone in your weird headspace, and that is so important to anyone who is suffering from mental health issues.

I am a person that loves social media, but has a pretty healthy relationship with it. I don’t get into fights, or get whipped up into a frenzy over other people’s posts, or even get envious of the lives other people present on screen. However, I still got a lot out of this book. I have gained insight into my own habits and am much more conscious of my phone time. Notes made me think about my relationship with my phone, which is attached to me at all times, and how I approach the internet as a blogger and vlogger. I even experimented with this while on holiday — I limited my phone time and didn’t fret over the spotty Wi-Fi, didn’t respond to comments immediately, and didn’t post much while I was away. And you know what? The anxiousness and panic I’ve been feeling lately receded and I was able to enjoy the beautiful place I was staying.

I really feel like this book will be helpful for a lot of people, regardless of how much time one scrolling aimlessly through their phone or their relationship with social media. There’s nothing wrong with disconnecting a little. If you’ve ever felt envious of Instagram posts, or spiraled downward because of the news cycle, or have ever felt like social media is stressing you out, I highly encourage you to pick up Notes on a Nervous Planet. Hell, I encourage you to pick this book up even if you have a good relationship with social media — you never know what you’ll learn.

Just like in Reasons to Stay Alive, Haig brings a level of humanity that makes this Notes on a Nervous Planet an open and frank conversation, not a self-help book. Although it didn’t have the same emotional impact as his previous book, I really enjoyed reading Notes on a Nervous Planet and it certainly gave me a lot to think about. I can easily see myself referring back to it again and again.

Originally posted to I Should Read That

I received a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review. This review is spoiler-free.

Retellings are a fairly new subgenre for me, and while I really enjoy them it can be a little tiresome to see the same fairy tales told over and over again. The Mermaid recently came to my attention and I was incredibly excited for a few reasons:

1) I read and really enjoyed Lost Boy last year and loved her unique take on the Peter Pan story.
2) It’s not a retelling of The Little Mermaid, but instead an imagining of the Fiji Mermaid. The Fiji Mermaid was a famous hoax that involved a monkey’s body sewn to a fish’s tail. Gross.
3) It sounded like a far more accurate depiction of P. T. Barnum than The Greatest Showman, a film I refuse to see. He was a trashcan of a human being and I hate that he’s getting a positive revision.
4) It has a tremendous cover.

Henry truly has a knack for retellings — her tales feel so unique, despite the huge quantity of retellings available right now. I love the fact that she chose to write about an actual entity with its own allure and back story rather than tell another fairy tale. Her choice of subject lends a very unique quality to the story and setting — The Mermaid takes place in 19th century New York and centers around P. T. Barnum’s American Museum. Despite this, the story begins like any fairy tale — a lonely fisherman catches a mermaid in his net and lets her go. She crawls to shore to be with him and lives for decades as his wife, and then his widow. I really loved the magical fairy tale quality that begins the book. Henry smoothly transitions her writing and style as Amelia’s story outside the fishing village begins, however the book doesn’t lose that dream-like quality.

Amelia is our Fiji Mermaid, despite the fact that she more likely comes from the depths of the Atlantic than Fiji. She’s a great example of my preferred type of ‘strong female character’. She doesn’t physically fight and kick ass. Instead, she has an incredible inner strength and speaks her mind in a time when a woman’s role was to remain quiet and care for her family. She has so much agency — she makes her own intelligent, informed decisions. Even if the reader doesn’t necessarily agree with her choices — I’d personally run screaming from P. T. Barnum — you still understand why she makes those decisions. She’s the perfect foil to Barnum’s scheming.

Our two other main characters are Barnum himself and his friend and colleague Levi Lyman. Barnum steals the show, of course. I really enjoyed Henry’s depiction of him as a man completely consumed by greed and money, but with his moments of humanity. We get to see his point of view, in which we gain insight into what’s going on in his head rather than the snap judgement of the people around him, and how he reacts to Amelia’s stubbornness and his own drive to make his fortune. He’s a bad man to be sure, however he has his redeeming moments. I personally love grey area characters like this and while I didn’t like him as a person, I really enjoyed reading this version of him.

The only thing in this book that I wasn’t keen on was the romance. After her husband’s death, Amelia eventually has a blossoming romance with another character in the book. I didn’t particularly like the kind of romance this was, although it made complete sense and I was fairly satisfied with the way it played out — it worked well with the story and within the time period. I’m so picky about romance that it’s not hugely surprising I wasn’t too keen.

Overall, The Mermaid is another fantastic addition to Henry’s growing repertoire of retellings. I think of all the retellings I’ve read recently, this is easily one of my favourites. The unique spin of featuring something that existed rather than in fairy tales made the story unique and all the more compelling. I’d highly recommend it!