This book gave me a lot of FEELINGS. Wonderfully written, and the characters are so fully realized. I enjoyed the passage of time and seeing these characters grow. I loved Nadia and Aubrey and their friendship, though I was perplexed much of the time by Luke and how anyone would think he was worth their time. Their were times I wanted to like him, but I simply couldn't stand him. But I think that reflects a little of me, and there were ways I was like Nadia, but then it got to a point where he is back in her life and I would've done the opposite of what Nadia did. (Sorry, trying not to spoil, but that part really aggravated me for so many reasons!). It was also a view on these three people and how women and men are treated differently, and Bennett touches on this seamlessly a few times... along with church communities and the hypocrisy that runs through them.

I think there was something left wanting about the chorus of Mothers, as I was taken out of the story by their 'insights,' when the main narration could have just telegraphed it just fine. I did tear up during that last passage though, that's for sure. Looking forward to more from Bennett.

What an epic. I truly enjoyed this sometimes funny but mostly heartbreaking tale about Cyril Avery, a boy born in 1940s Ireland, adopted as a baby, and gay. The novel spans from his birth mother's arrival in Dublin, pregnant, to present day in Cyril's life. I loved all the characters and the warmth that eventually radiates from the novel, though it goes to such dark places between.

The Irish narrator of the audiobook was fantastic, as well. Highly recommend!

It's rare to find a story about female friendship through creative collaboration! I want more!! Whitaker is a master at dialogue and scene-setting, I felt intricately enmeshed in the lives of Sharon Kisses (what a name!) and Mel Vaught. Laughed with them, felt their pain, confusion, anxiety, and exhilaration. I don't have much background with animation, but I do understand creative drive and Whitaker encapsulates that feeling wonderfully. As a debut I am extremely impressed; where some might find the length daunting, I really did enjoy how long I got to live with Sharon and Mel.

I also have to highly recommend the audiobook narrated by Alex McKenna - wow - she does a superb job of inhabiting Sharon and providing distinct voices to these beautifully rendered characters.

I was reading it pretty slow at first, but that turned around abruptly. Early on, it got to a point where I couldn't put this book down. It sometimes feels like it meanders, but I was completely captivated. And then it shocks - with moments of action and intensity, but also with the stark clarity that Ma's prose provides on the effects of late stage capitalism. To put all these ideas into a pre- and post-apocalyptic narrative in which the world's people are struck by a swift-moving illness would seem tricky, but Ma nails it brilliantly. I'm still processing the whole thing, having finished it this morning on my commute into NYC for work (oh the irony of reading this on this route all week is not lost on me...), but I absolutely loved it. It's thoughtful and funny and satirical and devastating and tender and surprising.

Ling Ma is certainly an author to watch - I can't wait to see what she writes next.

I'm not a memoir reader by any means, but I kept hearing about this book. First on Jezebel's 75 Books Every Woman Should Read list, then while I was reading Stephen King's On Writing last year. It's definitely worth reading. Karr is a talented writer, who can make beautiful prose out of harrowing material - sometimes it can be deadpan, funny, or truly sad. It's always riveting. There's something about this book that makes the reader think about their own upbringing, not necessarily in comparison, but how much do I remember of being seven years old? There are things then that shape us now, and after finishing this (a bit teary-eyed, I admit), I took some time to reflect.

I just... am I not cut out of modern day thrillers? The descriptive writing about LA and the art world and Kim Lord's paintings in the beginning was great, and intriguing. However, the central mystery and narrative plodded along at a decidedly un-page-turnery pace. There were so much meandering when something crucial was at hand, by the protagonist Maggie looking out the window or touching a leaf on a plant when an investigator was about to tell her something. It doesn't make much sense in the end, either. The resolution felt undeserved for how long it took to get there. Perhaps I should just stay away from this genre for a time...

What a bright, complex and yet highly readable book. I was completely enamored with these characters and didn't try too hard to figure out what was happening (though I tried a little) because I liked the journey so much. The narrative hurtled towards the inevitable meeting, but it was Leo Gursky's revelation in the end that did me in and made me cry on the train. Enjoyed this quick read completely.

4.5/5 stars

Still five stars. Still wonderfully written. It's not a story I keep coming back to because I'll read it differently on a personal level, but because it is just still so undeniably great. I once heard this book described as "probably the most perfect novel that has ever been written," conceding that no novel is perfect. I'd agree.

A heavy, enthralling debut. When it began, I thought it may just be a novel about a wartime love triangle. But really, this book is about Haemi and women's roles in life in general and during a specific point in time and place (1950s-60s Korea). The narration switches between Haemi and the other people in her life, and we get a sense of Haemi's inner life and how distorted it is by others or misinterpreted. It's an emotional novel as a woman, and as a mother. There were moments I nearly trembled with anger at the callousness of the men, at the patriarchal expectations of society. The culminating event made me cry, the final coda made me hold my heart.

I feel like I'm certainly learning a lot about Korean history this year through fiction having read Pachinko and The Orphan Master's Son earlier this year.

4.5/5

I've been disappointed in the last couple of thrillers I've read. I was resigned to the fact that perhaps I'm just not personally attune to the genre. However, perhaps there is a certain type of thrill that engages me. The creeping slow-burn suspense of Megan Abbott certainly kept me listening, and guessing. I thoroughly loved the competitive gymnastics setting, the varying degrees of ambition on display, and the way Abbott sharpens the focus on memories in such a way that makes you realize how untrustworthy our minds really may be. Abbott has written novels in the past about teenagers, and I liked her previous books well enough, but this one is written from the perspective of a mom of an elite gymnast, and it's probably my favorite of hers that I've read.

4.5/5