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This review originally appeared on the book review blog: Just One More Pa(i)ge.
So I’m binging the crap out of this series, obviously. As it’s only taking me a couple of days to read each of these books and they’re all over 500 pages long. It’s that perfect mix of compelling, fast-paced, easy to read and edge-of-your-seat exciting that is keeping my glued to them (to the exclusion of everything else I’m supposed to be reading right now). But honestly, that’s exactly what I was hoping for. I’ve had a really intense reading year so far (lots of serious/contemporary fiction type reads) and I needed some escapist lit to get my summer kicked off. This is perfect.
In regards to timeline, Gemina, picks up right where Illuminae leaves off. But the major difference is the perspective. We open on board the Heimdall space station, the station the Hypatia is heading towards, with all the Kerenza refugees (including our beloved Kady and Ezra from book one). Naturally though, BeiTech is still attempting to cover tracks for the Kerenza disaster…and they’re sending a whole team of “auditors” (read: trained operatives/assassins) to do the dirty work. But clearly, they did not account for the space station’s resistance, led by Hanna (captain’s daughter), Nik (unregistered resident and part of a crime family network), and Nik’s cousin Ella. They also clearly did not account for wormhole malfunctions and deadly drug-producing space alien creature things.
Similar to the last installation, the story is told in “dossier” of documents, tracsriptions, messages, recordings, etc. And it has, again, some of the most creative and artistic visuals, including text/passages through pipes when our characters are, IRL (ish), crawling through pipes, and various drawings/entries from Hanna’s journals. So, like Kady in book one, Hanna is our primary voice/perspective. She’s a kickass strategist and martial artist, complements of her single father’s father-daughter bonding activities (can we, again, hear it for the strong AF ladies in this series?!). And Nik, who has my heart way more than Ezra ever did (though I was full-on into his romance with Kady too, of course). Because I am a sucker for a “bad guy” who is actually secretly the good guy. Like, past being drawn to the “bad for you guy” I just love the dark pretense over a legit heart of gold. Ugh. Plus, I am into tattoos and his sound (and look, from Hanna’s drawings) gorgeous. Anyways, and then Ella. AGAIN, ladies in computer/tech/STEM, can I get a “hell yea!”? And, physical disability rep too! So much to admire there. The relationships in this one had me more emotionally invested too. I’m not sure exactly why, because it was more than just the type of characters that I was more interested in…but, I know I choked up more in this book than the last one.
Bottom line, same as with the first one, I literally could not put down this book. The short sections and constant action make it impossible to not try to read “just one more page.” (See what I did there?) And though there were, of course, some parts that stretch believability (same as in the first one), I can’t say it bothered me too much because I was so into the story. The only thing I was truly less into here, as opposed to the first book, was the whole situation with the wormhole. I won’t give away what actually happens/how things work out, of course. But it’s a complex physics theoretical situation that, while it was explained in lovely layman’s terms, still stretches my brain farther than it was interested in going at times. This happens to me any time this type of explanation/plot device is used, and it’s just not my favorite. Well, and a small second thing, is that one particularly emotional point was dulled somewhat because a similar plot device was used at a critical point in the first one. It’s not bad in either case separately, but put together, I’m not sure I like it used so freely within the same series (it makes for unfortunate predictability). But as I said, things moved fast and I got past both issues quickly.
Other things to note: First, I loved the “voices” of our youth protagonists. Their chats are so wonderfully full of slang and snark and jokes that both cut the tension of the greater story and ring wonderfully true to life. It’s one of my favorite things about these books. Also, the eventual (we all know it’s coming, so no spoilers) “meeting” of Ez and Kady and Nik and Hanna and Ella, virtual though it was, lived up to my expectations. And AIDAN included, of course. Relatedly, I am into the greater meaning that was put behind the Illuminae Group after the first book and I was actually literally clapping with excitement at the way it grew by the end of this one. I am most excited to see how these wonderfully precocious and attitude-filled adolescents bring the pain against BeiTech to close out this trilogy. I love when the underestimated/overlooked become unstoppable.
Truly I cannot wait for the finale…I’m off to start it immediately.
So I’m binging the crap out of this series, obviously. As it’s only taking me a couple of days to read each of these books and they’re all over 500 pages long. It’s that perfect mix of compelling, fast-paced, easy to read and edge-of-your-seat exciting that is keeping my glued to them (to the exclusion of everything else I’m supposed to be reading right now). But honestly, that’s exactly what I was hoping for. I’ve had a really intense reading year so far (lots of serious/contemporary fiction type reads) and I needed some escapist lit to get my summer kicked off. This is perfect.
In regards to timeline, Gemina, picks up right where Illuminae leaves off. But the major difference is the perspective. We open on board the Heimdall space station, the station the Hypatia is heading towards, with all the Kerenza refugees (including our beloved Kady and Ezra from book one). Naturally though, BeiTech is still attempting to cover tracks for the Kerenza disaster…and they’re sending a whole team of “auditors” (read: trained operatives/assassins) to do the dirty work. But clearly, they did not account for the space station’s resistance, led by Hanna (captain’s daughter), Nik (unregistered resident and part of a crime family network), and Nik’s cousin Ella. They also clearly did not account for wormhole malfunctions and deadly drug-producing space alien creature things.
Similar to the last installation, the story is told in “dossier” of documents, tracsriptions, messages, recordings, etc. And it has, again, some of the most creative and artistic visuals, including text/passages through pipes when our characters are, IRL (ish), crawling through pipes, and various drawings/entries from Hanna’s journals. So, like Kady in book one, Hanna is our primary voice/perspective. She’s a kickass strategist and martial artist, complements of her single father’s father-daughter bonding activities (can we, again, hear it for the strong AF ladies in this series?!). And Nik, who has my heart way more than Ezra ever did (though I was full-on into his romance with Kady too, of course). Because I am a sucker for a “bad guy” who is actually secretly the good guy. Like, past being drawn to the “bad for you guy” I just love the dark pretense over a legit heart of gold. Ugh. Plus, I am into tattoos and his sound (and look, from Hanna’s drawings) gorgeous. Anyways, and then Ella. AGAIN, ladies in computer/tech/STEM, can I get a “hell yea!”? And, physical disability rep too! So much to admire there. The relationships in this one had me more emotionally invested too. I’m not sure exactly why, because it was more than just the type of characters that I was more interested in…but, I know I choked up more in this book than the last one.
Bottom line, same as with the first one, I literally could not put down this book. The short sections and constant action make it impossible to not try to read “just one more page.” (See what I did there?) And though there were, of course, some parts that stretch believability (same as in the first one), I can’t say it bothered me too much because I was so into the story. The only thing I was truly less into here, as opposed to the first book, was the whole situation with the wormhole. I won’t give away what actually happens/how things work out, of course. But it’s a complex physics theoretical situation that, while it was explained in lovely layman’s terms, still stretches my brain farther than it was interested in going at times. This happens to me any time this type of explanation/plot device is used, and it’s just not my favorite. Well, and a small second thing, is that one particularly emotional point was dulled somewhat because a similar plot device was used at a critical point in the first one. It’s not bad in either case separately, but put together, I’m not sure I like it used so freely within the same series (it makes for unfortunate predictability). But as I said, things moved fast and I got past both issues quickly.
Other things to note: First, I loved the “voices” of our youth protagonists. Their chats are so wonderfully full of slang and snark and jokes that both cut the tension of the greater story and ring wonderfully true to life. It’s one of my favorite things about these books. Also, the eventual (we all know it’s coming, so no spoilers) “meeting” of Ez and Kady and Nik and Hanna and Ella, virtual though it was, lived up to my expectations. And AIDAN included, of course. Relatedly, I am into the greater meaning that was put behind the Illuminae Group after the first book and I was actually literally clapping with excitement at the way it grew by the end of this one. I am most excited to see how these wonderfully precocious and attitude-filled adolescents bring the pain against BeiTech to close out this trilogy. I love when the underestimated/overlooked become unstoppable.
Truly I cannot wait for the finale…I’m off to start it immediately.
This review originally appeared on the book review blog: Just One More Pa(i)ge.
“In this moment, she’s both ordinary and extraordinary. Just like everyone else in this story.”
And here we are, THE FINALE of this mind-blowingly original trilogy that I haven’t been able to put down for two straight weeks (which is actually a surprisingly short amount of time, considering how long each of these books is). Anyways, my heart cannot believe this series is over.
This book picks up right where the last one left off. Ezra and Kady and Ella and Hanna and Nik are all aboard the Mao…and everything is about to hit level 11. And then there’s some new additions. Kady’s cousin, Asha, is back on Kerenza. She’s still alive, dealing with life under the BeiTech invasion force, and part of a small resistance effort that, as far as they can tell, is really only extending the time before their inevitable “liquidation.” Also on Kerenza is Rhys, a part of the BeiTech forces, but an old flame of Asha’s who just might be the linchpin who, if Asha can turn him, could help the resistance prevail and save the lives of the rest of the survivors. Oh, and there’s the whole issue of BeiTech forces completely outnumbering and outgunning the Kerenza survivors, both on land and in the air, and all of them needing the same *almost repaired* mobile jump station to get back to civilization and end/tell this story. PHEW.
So I loved how much we get to see of everyone in this finale. Now, I understand that means that there is the whole “more perspectives” = “less screen time/development” for each one. But I think it worked out the best it could have under the circumstances. There is so much going on in this one, with all the added issues and points of view that we get as more characters get introduced with each additional piece of the story, that there was bound to be a drop in individual character development and detail in favor of overall plot resolution. However, at this point in the overarching story, I was so invested in the plot and how things would wrap up…it was all I could do to read/turn pages fast enough to keep up with how badly I wanted to know the ending. Basically what I’m saying is that the pacing and action in this last book was everything I was expecting it to be, based on the rest of the series, and perhaps even more. Which I can only assume is easier said than done, so my hats off to the authors. This was an edge-of-seat reading from beginning to end.
Though I know I said that the character development was slightly second-seat in this installment, there are still a few things I want to point out. Kady’s father (Isaac) and the way he parentally “adopted” all these teen heroes/heroines, was emotional and inspiring and a couple times caused me to tear up (Did his notes to them before the “final battle” get anyone else smack dab in the feels? No? just me?) And on that note, I liked that, even though our YA peeps remain the main characters and protagonists, there is a recognition in the writing that they are “just kids” – with the requisite adults-uninterested-in-taking-orders-from-them issues that would obviously arise in this situation if it were real life. That’s not something usually (if ever) addressed in YA fantasy/sci-fi and I liked the way it was handled. They don’t lose their awesomeness, but the clear “it’s not ideal but they’re the best for the jobs under the circumstances and will rise to the challenges magnificently” is a nice change of pace and grounded the characters in a better reality (if you will, considering the plot is clearly fantastical…). Asha’s redemption situation with Katya was a lovely side-plot and a great linchpin moment for the ending. Possibly, it’s one of the only believable ways the land battle could have ended in an even marginally happy way, and, as a plot device, it was executed on pointe. And last, I am a sucker for some YA meant-to-be romance shit and this series did not disappoint on that front. Boom. Oh, I guess that wasn’t last, because I have one more comment: AIDAN. What an incredibly fascinating “character.” Making the impossible choices and taking the bad rap as the “monster,” in its own words, but brought back online every time because it was so necessary. I just….it was so cool.
Finally, the writing. As with the first two, the dossier presentation of the story was carried out perfectly. Such a creative story telling method, and carried out in a way that was interesting and added to the “atmosphere” without getting boring or tedious. I also appreciated that, in general, the tone stayed the same as the first books, even though the stakes were getting ever higher. What I mean by that is, the snark and language and teen-level communication remained on point, though dampened slightly and appropriately when events called for it. That was a perilous line well-walked, as far as ambiance.
This series was superbly entertaining, from start to finish. I totally understand the hype and I’m so glad I finally got around to reading it. I am also super glad that I managed to delay until all the books were published, because I really don’t think I could have waited for the next one with anything resembling patience. I thoroughly enjoyed every minute of my time reading these books and was also (no spoilers, promise) really happy with the ending; realistic or not, it’s exactly what I wanted. . Everyone needs a message of David vs Goliath once in awhile. If you are looking for some fast-paced, detailed, uniquely told, YA sci-fi with some sweet romances and non-stop action (basically, the ideal “I need a break from heavier reads and a chance to just enjoy reading for its entertainment value”), I definitely recommend The Illuminae Files. I'll miss these characters.
“In this moment, she’s both ordinary and extraordinary. Just like everyone else in this story.”
And here we are, THE FINALE of this mind-blowingly original trilogy that I haven’t been able to put down for two straight weeks (which is actually a surprisingly short amount of time, considering how long each of these books is). Anyways, my heart cannot believe this series is over.
This book picks up right where the last one left off. Ezra and Kady and Ella and Hanna and Nik are all aboard the Mao…and everything is about to hit level 11. And then there’s some new additions. Kady’s cousin, Asha, is back on Kerenza. She’s still alive, dealing with life under the BeiTech invasion force, and part of a small resistance effort that, as far as they can tell, is really only extending the time before their inevitable “liquidation.” Also on Kerenza is Rhys, a part of the BeiTech forces, but an old flame of Asha’s who just might be the linchpin who, if Asha can turn him, could help the resistance prevail and save the lives of the rest of the survivors. Oh, and there’s the whole issue of BeiTech forces completely outnumbering and outgunning the Kerenza survivors, both on land and in the air, and all of them needing the same *almost repaired* mobile jump station to get back to civilization and end/tell this story. PHEW.
So I loved how much we get to see of everyone in this finale. Now, I understand that means that there is the whole “more perspectives” = “less screen time/development” for each one. But I think it worked out the best it could have under the circumstances. There is so much going on in this one, with all the added issues and points of view that we get as more characters get introduced with each additional piece of the story, that there was bound to be a drop in individual character development and detail in favor of overall plot resolution. However, at this point in the overarching story, I was so invested in the plot and how things would wrap up…it was all I could do to read/turn pages fast enough to keep up with how badly I wanted to know the ending. Basically what I’m saying is that the pacing and action in this last book was everything I was expecting it to be, based on the rest of the series, and perhaps even more. Which I can only assume is easier said than done, so my hats off to the authors. This was an edge-of-seat reading from beginning to end.
Though I know I said that the character development was slightly second-seat in this installment, there are still a few things I want to point out. Kady’s father (Isaac) and the way he parentally “adopted” all these teen heroes/heroines, was emotional and inspiring and a couple times caused me to tear up (Did his notes to them before the “final battle” get anyone else smack dab in the feels? No? just me?) And on that note, I liked that, even though our YA peeps remain the main characters and protagonists, there is a recognition in the writing that they are “just kids” – with the requisite adults-uninterested-in-taking-orders-from-them issues that would obviously arise in this situation if it were real life. That’s not something usually (if ever) addressed in YA fantasy/sci-fi and I liked the way it was handled. They don’t lose their awesomeness, but the clear “it’s not ideal but they’re the best for the jobs under the circumstances and will rise to the challenges magnificently” is a nice change of pace and grounded the characters in a better reality (if you will, considering the plot is clearly fantastical…). Asha’s redemption situation with Katya was a lovely side-plot and a great linchpin moment for the ending. Possibly, it’s one of the only believable ways the land battle could have ended in an even marginally happy way, and, as a plot device, it was executed on pointe. And last, I am a sucker for some YA meant-to-be romance shit and this series did not disappoint on that front. Boom. Oh, I guess that wasn’t last, because I have one more comment: AIDAN. What an incredibly fascinating “character.” Making the impossible choices and taking the bad rap as the “monster,” in its own words, but brought back online every time because it was so necessary. I just….it was so cool.
Finally, the writing. As with the first two, the dossier presentation of the story was carried out perfectly. Such a creative story telling method, and carried out in a way that was interesting and added to the “atmosphere” without getting boring or tedious. I also appreciated that, in general, the tone stayed the same as the first books, even though the stakes were getting ever higher. What I mean by that is, the snark and language and teen-level communication remained on point, though dampened slightly and appropriately when events called for it. That was a perilous line well-walked, as far as ambiance.
This series was superbly entertaining, from start to finish. I totally understand the hype and I’m so glad I finally got around to reading it. I am also super glad that I managed to delay until all the books were published, because I really don’t think I could have waited for the next one with anything resembling patience. I thoroughly enjoyed every minute of my time reading these books and was also (no spoilers, promise) really happy with the ending; realistic or not, it’s exactly what I wanted. . Everyone needs a message of David vs Goliath once in awhile. If you are looking for some fast-paced, detailed, uniquely told, YA sci-fi with some sweet romances and non-stop action (basically, the ideal “I need a break from heavier reads and a chance to just enjoy reading for its entertainment value”), I definitely recommend The Illuminae Files. I'll miss these characters.
This review originally appeared on the book review blog: Just One More Pa(i)ge.
I picked up this memoir/essay/commentary collection at one of my library’s used book sales at least a year ago. But I’ve been trying to focus hard on balancing library/new release reads with catching up on some of my backlist book titles, so it made it off the TBR and onto the “currently reading” list as a part of those efforts. Now, I have never listened to Robinson’s podcast, 2 Dope Queens, before (I am not really a podcast person, I’m more into audiobooks). And actually, to be honest, since I’m not really an aficionado on the comedy scene either, I can’t say I had even heard of her before. But for some reason, the cover/title/description blurb for this book called out to me from the stack it was in and, for $2, I figured it was worth the gamble. Spoiler alert: it totally was!
In this collection, Robinson talks about everything from her guilty pleasures (even though she doesn’t agree with the concept that she should feel guilty for liking them) to the reality being a black woman in America/comedy/any workplace to her (both realistic and absurd) requests of the first female president and more (much more) about race in America.
The first thing I have to say about this book is that the conversational tone of the writing is phenomenal. Now, this may be slightly influenced by the fact that I listened to the audiobook, which Robinson reads herself, but still…more so than any other author-narrated memoir I’ve read/listened to, it was like she was in the car with me, talking right to me. I assume this is, in part, because she has experience with her podcast. And podcasts, from my limited listening, tend to be very casual and conversational. Regardless of how she manages it though, and if it’s just her natural style or if it’s something more practiced that she’s perfected, I was very into it and it made for one of the best listening experiences I’ve ever had.
Topically, it’s actually really surprising how much of this book actually talks about and explores serious race and gender (and the intersectionality of being a black woman) issues. And don’t get me wrong, I don’t say that because I’m surprised at Robinson wanting or being able to discuss it all that much/well. Rather, I’m surprised because, for the most part, it never feels that serious. Here, we come back to her writing style, which I’ve already spoken about. But her ability to infuse humor and familiarity into her tone cushions the blow, in a major way, for all the depth and truth she is dropping. From talking about the horribly racist/feminist reality of casting calls to the common relegation of black people to being “the black friend” or the single spokesperson for their entire race to addressing the myth of the angry black woman, there is something about her vocabulary and pop culture references that makes it an “easier” way to read about these issues than most black feminist nonfiction that I’ve read recently (i.e. Sister Outsider by Audre Lorde). The comedic addressing of these issues does not, should never, take away from the reality/gravity of them. Nor should the [white] reader not take the issues seriously because they are delivered in such a way. Nor should such prestigious works, such as Lorde’s writing, not be read exclusively in favor of more “comfortable” delivery like this. But it’s a nice addition to the genre. A way to reinforce and entertain simultaneously. Because sometimes reality, like the reality of living in an America that elected our current president (an America where that is even possible) and all the horrific backsliding on racist/feminist fronts that came as a result, needs some humor to help us cope.
Anyways, back to the topics Robinson covers. My favorite section was her requests to the first female president. From getting rid of the obsession with the thigh-gap to helping the world get comfortable with the word vagina (and vaginas in general) this was just a fantastic set of (mostly) legitimate yet ridiculously-presented requests, and I loved it. I also really enjoyed the first chapters, which give a lot of really full information on black hair, in practice and the history of, which is almost completely new/foreign information for me. It was educational and fascinating and I really appreciated her sharing that cultural experience with readers of all (read: not-black) hair. As I mentioned, the not-so-guilty pleasures chapter was straight hilarious – I laughed out loud a number of times during that one. And her insights and sharing of experiences in the chapters about “welcome to being black” and “uppity” and “angry black woman myth” were important additions to the body of work from black women sharing these experiences and making it common knowledge that this is both insidious and still happening and absolutely inappropriate/must be stopped immediately. Robinson also does a phenomenal job at calling out the white people she has interacted with who have whether inadvertently or due to unforgiveable unawareness, acted in incredibly racist ways. As a white reader, it’s important to internalize these situations, not to be defensive about them, so that we can avoid being that person, so that we can do/be better, in our own lives and interactions. Last, the sections of letters to her niece Olivia was sweet and heartfelt and full of actually legit advice (I hope Olivia takes it all to heart when she’s old enough to read it) and warnings that you wish she didn’t have to gives and great messages to all readers on how to appropriately appreciate the strength of black women and action steps on how to truly make the world a more accepting place place. It was the perfect way to wrap up the collection.
As the blurb on the back says, this book truly is one of the best combinations of the personal and the political, the humorous and the powerful. It’s definitely the best collection by a female comedian that I can remember reading (and I have read a number of them, including by Amy Poehler, Tiffany Haddish, Mindy Kaling, Lauren Graham, Caitlin Moran…not counting Anna Kendrick because I love her for other reasons and personally identified with a lot of her feels, and Trevor Noah’s was a masterpiece, though he’s not a female). Anyways, I thoroughly enjoyed my experience with these essays and I definitely recommend this collection (especially is you are into pop-culture…her references are continuous and delightful).
I picked up this memoir/essay/commentary collection at one of my library’s used book sales at least a year ago. But I’ve been trying to focus hard on balancing library/new release reads with catching up on some of my backlist book titles, so it made it off the TBR and onto the “currently reading” list as a part of those efforts. Now, I have never listened to Robinson’s podcast, 2 Dope Queens, before (I am not really a podcast person, I’m more into audiobooks). And actually, to be honest, since I’m not really an aficionado on the comedy scene either, I can’t say I had even heard of her before. But for some reason, the cover/title/description blurb for this book called out to me from the stack it was in and, for $2, I figured it was worth the gamble. Spoiler alert: it totally was!
In this collection, Robinson talks about everything from her guilty pleasures (even though she doesn’t agree with the concept that she should feel guilty for liking them) to the reality being a black woman in America/comedy/any workplace to her (both realistic and absurd) requests of the first female president and more (much more) about race in America.
The first thing I have to say about this book is that the conversational tone of the writing is phenomenal. Now, this may be slightly influenced by the fact that I listened to the audiobook, which Robinson reads herself, but still…more so than any other author-narrated memoir I’ve read/listened to, it was like she was in the car with me, talking right to me. I assume this is, in part, because she has experience with her podcast. And podcasts, from my limited listening, tend to be very casual and conversational. Regardless of how she manages it though, and if it’s just her natural style or if it’s something more practiced that she’s perfected, I was very into it and it made for one of the best listening experiences I’ve ever had.
Topically, it’s actually really surprising how much of this book actually talks about and explores serious race and gender (and the intersectionality of being a black woman) issues. And don’t get me wrong, I don’t say that because I’m surprised at Robinson wanting or being able to discuss it all that much/well. Rather, I’m surprised because, for the most part, it never feels that serious. Here, we come back to her writing style, which I’ve already spoken about. But her ability to infuse humor and familiarity into her tone cushions the blow, in a major way, for all the depth and truth she is dropping. From talking about the horribly racist/feminist reality of casting calls to the common relegation of black people to being “the black friend” or the single spokesperson for their entire race to addressing the myth of the angry black woman, there is something about her vocabulary and pop culture references that makes it an “easier” way to read about these issues than most black feminist nonfiction that I’ve read recently (i.e. Sister Outsider by Audre Lorde). The comedic addressing of these issues does not, should never, take away from the reality/gravity of them. Nor should the [white] reader not take the issues seriously because they are delivered in such a way. Nor should such prestigious works, such as Lorde’s writing, not be read exclusively in favor of more “comfortable” delivery like this. But it’s a nice addition to the genre. A way to reinforce and entertain simultaneously. Because sometimes reality, like the reality of living in an America that elected our current president (an America where that is even possible) and all the horrific backsliding on racist/feminist fronts that came as a result, needs some humor to help us cope.
Anyways, back to the topics Robinson covers. My favorite section was her requests to the first female president. From getting rid of the obsession with the thigh-gap to helping the world get comfortable with the word vagina (and vaginas in general) this was just a fantastic set of (mostly) legitimate yet ridiculously-presented requests, and I loved it. I also really enjoyed the first chapters, which give a lot of really full information on black hair, in practice and the history of, which is almost completely new/foreign information for me. It was educational and fascinating and I really appreciated her sharing that cultural experience with readers of all (read: not-black) hair. As I mentioned, the not-so-guilty pleasures chapter was straight hilarious – I laughed out loud a number of times during that one. And her insights and sharing of experiences in the chapters about “welcome to being black” and “uppity” and “angry black woman myth” were important additions to the body of work from black women sharing these experiences and making it common knowledge that this is both insidious and still happening and absolutely inappropriate/must be stopped immediately. Robinson also does a phenomenal job at calling out the white people she has interacted with who have whether inadvertently or due to unforgiveable unawareness, acted in incredibly racist ways. As a white reader, it’s important to internalize these situations, not to be defensive about them, so that we can avoid being that person, so that we can do/be better, in our own lives and interactions. Last, the sections of letters to her niece Olivia was sweet and heartfelt and full of actually legit advice (I hope Olivia takes it all to heart when she’s old enough to read it) and warnings that you wish she didn’t have to gives and great messages to all readers on how to appropriately appreciate the strength of black women and action steps on how to truly make the world a more accepting place place. It was the perfect way to wrap up the collection.
As the blurb on the back says, this book truly is one of the best combinations of the personal and the political, the humorous and the powerful. It’s definitely the best collection by a female comedian that I can remember reading (and I have read a number of them, including by Amy Poehler, Tiffany Haddish, Mindy Kaling, Lauren Graham, Caitlin Moran…not counting Anna Kendrick because I love her for other reasons and personally identified with a lot of her feels, and Trevor Noah’s was a masterpiece, though he’s not a female). Anyways, I thoroughly enjoyed my experience with these essays and I definitely recommend this collection (especially is you are into pop-culture…her references are continuous and delightful).
This review originally appeared on the book review blog: Just One More Pa(i)ge.
I read Acevedo’s debut (and multiple award winning) novel The Poet X last year and LOVED it. So you know I was all about reading this, her second novel, as soon as I could. That’s about all the intro I have for this one, but just to make this a little longer, can we also take a second to just stare at that stunning cover? Like, literally, I feel like my eyes are filled with fire (in a good way) just looking at it. And her last cover was just as gorgeous. How is this possible?! I’m jealous and it’s not like I’ve even written a novel that has a cover, I just know that if I had, there’s no way it would be this beautiful. Alright, moving on…review time!
Emoni Santiago is a senior in high school in Philly, PA. She has a young daughter at home, and they live with the abuela that raised her. Emoni’s mother died when she was young, her father moved back to Puerto Rico, his home island, and she’s been living and making the tough decisions for years as she make her way through life. This year though, it looks like the decisions will get even harder… Her school is offering a culinary arts class for the first time ever, and though Emoni loves cooking more than anything (and according to her grandmother, has a magical touch with it), will she have the time and financial capability to take the class? Plus, there’s big choices about next year: college or not? Her daughter’s father, Tyrone, tends to make things more complicated when he helps with baby girl, not less. Her own father is periodically present, but no one to count on and mostly a phone presence from afar. And of course, there’s a new guy (Malachi) in school this year, transferred in from Newark, who’s got his eye on Emoni.
I was really impressed with the breadth of perspective input we get in this novel, which is a little different from the first, where I felt (for the most part) that everything was more focused around Xo and her POV. In this case, Emoni is particularly understanding and aware of the needs of those around her and, though she has the obvious inner complaints and small explosive reactions (as we all do), I think her emotional state is definitely healthier in general. Through her interactions with the people in her life, we get insight into so many different life situations and choices, and though they are colored with Emoni’s lens, it’s a fairly accepting lens. I love, in particular, the way she is with her abuela and Babygirl at home, both in the way they share responsibilities and in the way abuela is clear about, and Emoni accepts, her need for her own life. Similarly, Emoni’s interactions with her culinary arts teacher are great – she is and authentically “high school” girl, convinced she knows and that she doesn’t need the basics, while Chef does his best to teach greater lessons than just fostering the natural ability to cook. Also, Emoni’s relationships with her friends, both Malachi and Angelica, are fantastic – snarky and supportive and accepting in all the best ways that teens can be. And great big bonus, healthy masculinity; gentleness and respect for women is strong with Malachi. Honestly, even though Tyrone is selfish/pushy, in the end he too makes some growth in a healthy direction too. Similar feels about her own father, as well. And the message there about consistent effort to be better, that you can learn to be better, is very important.
Another thing that I want to highlight all on its own is the genuine, balanced, non-judgemental depiction of teen parenting. Emoni works hard to support and care for the daughter, while still trying to balance that with her own responsibilities in school, at her job and, as a teenager, with friends. It’s obviously hard, Emoni is honest and clear about the challenges, but the joys are there too. And she rises to and cherishes each in appropriate order with such grace and poise. I cannot say enough about how wonderfully Emoni is written as a young mother – this is a situation which is often ridiculed, criticized, stereotyped and more, but Acevedo manages to write Emoni’s navigation of complex situations and compromise in a mature, tender, beautiful way. This is the role model for adolescent mothers that has been sorely missing in the YA genre. And at the same time, Acevedo still is able to write Emoni as a proud, strong, motivated and hard-working person in her own right, for her own goals. She stands up for herself, works towards her goals (can we talk about how awesome she was with the fundraisers?! - dang), handles failure in a way that inspires everyone else to help her move past it and succeed despite it all, and understands when to ask for help and when to reevaluate to make sure her decisions are the best ones, all while continuing to reach for what she dreams of. It’s ridiculously inspiring.
I can tell you one thing, Acevedo has not suffered, at all, from the sophomore slump. This novel was just as good as her first, full of smoothly flowing writing (with the perfect mix of literary and contemporary language, and fantastic inclusion of Spanish words/phrases), full developed relationships (especially the family ones – that’s where Acevedo really shines), such healthy addressing of complex and difficult topics/choices, pride is one’s home/family/culture, and an effortlessly diverse cast of characters. And the food – OMG if you can manage to get through this book and all it’s mouth-watering descriptions of cooking and recipes without stopping fifteen different times to make yourself a snack (and thus gaining like ten pounds during your time spent reading) then color me impressed. I am only half-joking here. But in all seriousness, and with all joking aside, though I didn’t connect with it one on quite as personal a level as I did the first one (the religion/guilt aspect in The Poet X really got me), that doesn’t change the fact that this second novel was simply spectacular.
I read Acevedo’s debut (and multiple award winning) novel The Poet X last year and LOVED it. So you know I was all about reading this, her second novel, as soon as I could. That’s about all the intro I have for this one, but just to make this a little longer, can we also take a second to just stare at that stunning cover? Like, literally, I feel like my eyes are filled with fire (in a good way) just looking at it. And her last cover was just as gorgeous. How is this possible?! I’m jealous and it’s not like I’ve even written a novel that has a cover, I just know that if I had, there’s no way it would be this beautiful. Alright, moving on…review time!
Emoni Santiago is a senior in high school in Philly, PA. She has a young daughter at home, and they live with the abuela that raised her. Emoni’s mother died when she was young, her father moved back to Puerto Rico, his home island, and she’s been living and making the tough decisions for years as she make her way through life. This year though, it looks like the decisions will get even harder… Her school is offering a culinary arts class for the first time ever, and though Emoni loves cooking more than anything (and according to her grandmother, has a magical touch with it), will she have the time and financial capability to take the class? Plus, there’s big choices about next year: college or not? Her daughter’s father, Tyrone, tends to make things more complicated when he helps with baby girl, not less. Her own father is periodically present, but no one to count on and mostly a phone presence from afar. And of course, there’s a new guy (Malachi) in school this year, transferred in from Newark, who’s got his eye on Emoni.
I was really impressed with the breadth of perspective input we get in this novel, which is a little different from the first, where I felt (for the most part) that everything was more focused around Xo and her POV. In this case, Emoni is particularly understanding and aware of the needs of those around her and, though she has the obvious inner complaints and small explosive reactions (as we all do), I think her emotional state is definitely healthier in general. Through her interactions with the people in her life, we get insight into so many different life situations and choices, and though they are colored with Emoni’s lens, it’s a fairly accepting lens. I love, in particular, the way she is with her abuela and Babygirl at home, both in the way they share responsibilities and in the way abuela is clear about, and Emoni accepts, her need for her own life. Similarly, Emoni’s interactions with her culinary arts teacher are great – she is and authentically “high school” girl, convinced she knows and that she doesn’t need the basics, while Chef does his best to teach greater lessons than just fostering the natural ability to cook. Also, Emoni’s relationships with her friends, both Malachi and Angelica, are fantastic – snarky and supportive and accepting in all the best ways that teens can be. And great big bonus, healthy masculinity; gentleness and respect for women is strong with Malachi. Honestly, even though Tyrone is selfish/pushy, in the end he too makes some growth in a healthy direction too. Similar feels about her own father, as well. And the message there about consistent effort to be better, that you can learn to be better, is very important.
Another thing that I want to highlight all on its own is the genuine, balanced, non-judgemental depiction of teen parenting. Emoni works hard to support and care for the daughter, while still trying to balance that with her own responsibilities in school, at her job and, as a teenager, with friends. It’s obviously hard, Emoni is honest and clear about the challenges, but the joys are there too. And she rises to and cherishes each in appropriate order with such grace and poise. I cannot say enough about how wonderfully Emoni is written as a young mother – this is a situation which is often ridiculed, criticized, stereotyped and more, but Acevedo manages to write Emoni’s navigation of complex situations and compromise in a mature, tender, beautiful way. This is the role model for adolescent mothers that has been sorely missing in the YA genre. And at the same time, Acevedo still is able to write Emoni as a proud, strong, motivated and hard-working person in her own right, for her own goals. She stands up for herself, works towards her goals (can we talk about how awesome she was with the fundraisers?! - dang), handles failure in a way that inspires everyone else to help her move past it and succeed despite it all, and understands when to ask for help and when to reevaluate to make sure her decisions are the best ones, all while continuing to reach for what she dreams of. It’s ridiculously inspiring.
I can tell you one thing, Acevedo has not suffered, at all, from the sophomore slump. This novel was just as good as her first, full of smoothly flowing writing (with the perfect mix of literary and contemporary language, and fantastic inclusion of Spanish words/phrases), full developed relationships (especially the family ones – that’s where Acevedo really shines), such healthy addressing of complex and difficult topics/choices, pride is one’s home/family/culture, and an effortlessly diverse cast of characters. And the food – OMG if you can manage to get through this book and all it’s mouth-watering descriptions of cooking and recipes without stopping fifteen different times to make yourself a snack (and thus gaining like ten pounds during your time spent reading) then color me impressed. I am only half-joking here. But in all seriousness, and with all joking aside, though I didn’t connect with it one on quite as personal a level as I did the first one (the religion/guilt aspect in The Poet X really got me), that doesn’t change the fact that this second novel was simply spectacular.
This review originally appeared on the book review blog: Just One More Pa(i)ge.
“Norman Thomas, […] a socialist politician who was often called “the conscience of America,” declared that [this] case was ‘a vivid example of the ways of an unutterably selfish capitalist system which cares nothing about the lives of its workers, but seeks only to guard its profits.’”
This was the July book chosen for my long-distance book club. Basically, one of our members just really wanted to read it and we all voted to go along with that. Haha. But honestly, I’m super happy that’s how it happened. I had heard of this one, but I know for sure that I would never have picked it up if it hadn’t been voted on as a book club pick (a big “pro” for book clubs right there). And now that I’ve finished, I am so glad that I have now read this and know these women’s stories.
This nonfiction piece tells the stories of the women who worked painting clock faces with radium-based paint (to make the dials glow), starting as early as 1917 in the United States. This book focuses on the women in a few small towns in New Jersey and Illinois who jumped at the chance to both make money (because the money was good) and to help their country (there were many military contracts for these types of glow-in-the-dark dials) during the war. The seems like an innocuous situation, except for the fact that radium is a radioactive substance. And, though we all know now how bad radium is for the human body, how much damage it can inflict on unprotected people, that information was not widely known then. In fact, it was touted for years as a beneficial health supplement, sold in tonics and other curatives. However, even if, at the beginning, it is reasonable that precautions were not undertaken to protect the girls working in the factories, it (fairly quickly) became clear that many of the painters were getting sick, really sick, and suffering all sorts of negative health effects (brittle/broken bones, tooth/jaw decay and falling out, pain, sarcoma, and more). However, although suspicions among the workers and their doctors that radium poisoning was the cause, (and even more than that, direct warnings from radium scientists and doctors that it was the cause), the radium dial companies not only ignored this information, they actively covered up the risks and lied to the girls about radium, telling them all it was completely safe. This in-depth novel tells the stories of these women, their health battles, their fight for recognition of the workplace cause of those health issues, and the legal struggle to get compensation from the companies for, essentially, ruining their lives.
Oh my goodness, this was such a difficult book to read. Even though the story is no surprise, since the inside flap tells you the general gist of it, reading the details was a challenge. It is horrifying, heartbreaking and incredibly angering to read how badly these women were taken advantage of time and again. How major companies, with profits on the line, chose over and over to put those profits ahead of the health and well-being of their employees. In the afterward, Moore talks about how she was inspired to write about these women’s plights after realizing that all the related literature that was already published focused primarily on the scientific and legal aspects of the situation. And, of course, while those aspects are super important, since they are the reason the US now has the Occupational Safety and Health Administration to prevent (as much as possible) further tragedies of this kind, she felt that the individual stories should be given similar honor. These women suffered for decades to win these workers’ rights battles, and they deserve to have their own stories know. And she did that with aplomb. Using quotes from family, friends, letters/correspondence of the women themselves, and more, Moore presents us with stirring pictures of the lives of the lead women in this fight. Reading how the effects of radium poisoning cause early death, dismemberment and other disability, disease, infertility, anemia/weakness, and many other forms of wasting away, and how all of that devastated the women’s hopes and dreams, their families, their day-to-day lives, their finances and more…it was almost too much. (In particular, for me, I have a phobia of tooth-loss and other mouth issues…and reading how much the radium painting demolished that part of the body in particular was so hard that sometimes I actually had to stop and take calming breaths.) Yet, to see their strength through the long fight for recognition and compensation, their efforts to vindicate themselves and their friends, and their never-ending hope for justice and a cure (even in the face of, essentially, certain death...they were literally referred to as the “living dead” in newspaper articles of the time) is just beyond inspiring.
There are a few cautions I want to point out, to anyone looking to read this. It is long. And it’s heavy. The details are thorough, but at times overwhelming. And so many names of dial painters (in the first few chapters) and doctors/lawyers (in later chapters) are thrown at us, as readers, that I got quite lost in them. It was a bit much to take in to start. So be ready for that. And truly, don’t worry overly much. The “main” names will be mentioned often enough throughout the rest of the book that you’ll get used to them and it’ll get easier to follow eventually. To that end, I also recommend the audiobook. The narrator is great and it really helped me keep moving through the story without getting bogged down in the specifics (especially as they relate to the legal/medial minutiae). I came away understanding the overarching themes/issues/points more than enough, without spending extra time nailing down each development as it came up. This was a very compellingly written compilation of many different voices/stories, but it is also nonfiction and the journalistic tone at times got a little dry. So yes, the audiobook was very helpful for pushing through those moments. And it was worth pushing through them to read and know the whole, overall, story. Because it’s a tragedy how completely unaware I, and I assume the majority of America is, about this pivotal situation in our history, for women, and for workers in general.
I finished reading this book having learned so much, and vacillating between unbelievable anger (both that this happened and that large corporations still have the power to screw with employees lives in today’s America, in perhaps different, but still very harmful ways…have we learned nothing??) and soul-filling hope at the power of spirit these women maintained through it all. Eye-opening, educational, and a wonderful homage to an inspiring group of women who’s stories deserve to be honored and remembered.
“Norman Thomas, […] a socialist politician who was often called “the conscience of America,” declared that [this] case was ‘a vivid example of the ways of an unutterably selfish capitalist system which cares nothing about the lives of its workers, but seeks only to guard its profits.’”
This was the July book chosen for my long-distance book club. Basically, one of our members just really wanted to read it and we all voted to go along with that. Haha. But honestly, I’m super happy that’s how it happened. I had heard of this one, but I know for sure that I would never have picked it up if it hadn’t been voted on as a book club pick (a big “pro” for book clubs right there). And now that I’ve finished, I am so glad that I have now read this and know these women’s stories.
This nonfiction piece tells the stories of the women who worked painting clock faces with radium-based paint (to make the dials glow), starting as early as 1917 in the United States. This book focuses on the women in a few small towns in New Jersey and Illinois who jumped at the chance to both make money (because the money was good) and to help their country (there were many military contracts for these types of glow-in-the-dark dials) during the war. The seems like an innocuous situation, except for the fact that radium is a radioactive substance. And, though we all know now how bad radium is for the human body, how much damage it can inflict on unprotected people, that information was not widely known then. In fact, it was touted for years as a beneficial health supplement, sold in tonics and other curatives. However, even if, at the beginning, it is reasonable that precautions were not undertaken to protect the girls working in the factories, it (fairly quickly) became clear that many of the painters were getting sick, really sick, and suffering all sorts of negative health effects (brittle/broken bones, tooth/jaw decay and falling out, pain, sarcoma, and more). However, although suspicions among the workers and their doctors that radium poisoning was the cause, (and even more than that, direct warnings from radium scientists and doctors that it was the cause), the radium dial companies not only ignored this information, they actively covered up the risks and lied to the girls about radium, telling them all it was completely safe. This in-depth novel tells the stories of these women, their health battles, their fight for recognition of the workplace cause of those health issues, and the legal struggle to get compensation from the companies for, essentially, ruining their lives.
Oh my goodness, this was such a difficult book to read. Even though the story is no surprise, since the inside flap tells you the general gist of it, reading the details was a challenge. It is horrifying, heartbreaking and incredibly angering to read how badly these women were taken advantage of time and again. How major companies, with profits on the line, chose over and over to put those profits ahead of the health and well-being of their employees. In the afterward, Moore talks about how she was inspired to write about these women’s plights after realizing that all the related literature that was already published focused primarily on the scientific and legal aspects of the situation. And, of course, while those aspects are super important, since they are the reason the US now has the Occupational Safety and Health Administration to prevent (as much as possible) further tragedies of this kind, she felt that the individual stories should be given similar honor. These women suffered for decades to win these workers’ rights battles, and they deserve to have their own stories know. And she did that with aplomb. Using quotes from family, friends, letters/correspondence of the women themselves, and more, Moore presents us with stirring pictures of the lives of the lead women in this fight. Reading how the effects of radium poisoning cause early death, dismemberment and other disability, disease, infertility, anemia/weakness, and many other forms of wasting away, and how all of that devastated the women’s hopes and dreams, their families, their day-to-day lives, their finances and more…it was almost too much. (In particular, for me, I have a phobia of tooth-loss and other mouth issues…and reading how much the radium painting demolished that part of the body in particular was so hard that sometimes I actually had to stop and take calming breaths.) Yet, to see their strength through the long fight for recognition and compensation, their efforts to vindicate themselves and their friends, and their never-ending hope for justice and a cure (even in the face of, essentially, certain death...they were literally referred to as the “living dead” in newspaper articles of the time) is just beyond inspiring.
There are a few cautions I want to point out, to anyone looking to read this. It is long. And it’s heavy. The details are thorough, but at times overwhelming. And so many names of dial painters (in the first few chapters) and doctors/lawyers (in later chapters) are thrown at us, as readers, that I got quite lost in them. It was a bit much to take in to start. So be ready for that. And truly, don’t worry overly much. The “main” names will be mentioned often enough throughout the rest of the book that you’ll get used to them and it’ll get easier to follow eventually. To that end, I also recommend the audiobook. The narrator is great and it really helped me keep moving through the story without getting bogged down in the specifics (especially as they relate to the legal/medial minutiae). I came away understanding the overarching themes/issues/points more than enough, without spending extra time nailing down each development as it came up. This was a very compellingly written compilation of many different voices/stories, but it is also nonfiction and the journalistic tone at times got a little dry. So yes, the audiobook was very helpful for pushing through those moments. And it was worth pushing through them to read and know the whole, overall, story. Because it’s a tragedy how completely unaware I, and I assume the majority of America is, about this pivotal situation in our history, for women, and for workers in general.
I finished reading this book having learned so much, and vacillating between unbelievable anger (both that this happened and that large corporations still have the power to screw with employees lives in today’s America, in perhaps different, but still very harmful ways…have we learned nothing??) and soul-filling hope at the power of spirit these women maintained through it all. Eye-opening, educational, and a wonderful homage to an inspiring group of women who’s stories deserve to be honored and remembered.
This review originally appeared on the book review blog: Just One More Pa(i)ge.
It’s the summer, so romance rules, as you know. Haha. But seriously, I have known about this series for awhile but hadn’t been totally sold on trying it. Mainly it’s because sports romances are just not my preferred sub-genre. I cannot give you a reason for that, as I do love sports in a general sense. But there you go. However, I asked a couple people who recently reviewed it and they all said I should try it anyways…the sports story-line is present, but not overwhelming. So I went for it.
Marlee has been an NFL girlfriend for 10 years. Girlfriend. Just girlfriend. For 10 years. So when she catches her man cheating (again), she decides that’s really it this time. Enter Gavin. The new quarterback for her ex’s team. And a one night stand of hers from four years ago when she and her ex were on a break. A very hot one night stand. A one night stand who has clearly not forgotten about her (yup, he’s sending all sorts of subtle and not-so-subtle signals her way). But is it too soon for Marlee to be in a relationship again? And does she even want to date another athlete?
Alright, straight up, this has not sold me on sports romances. I don’t know what it is, but they are just really not for me. However, I’m going to try and review this objectively, putting aside my sports romance issues, in order to be fair to the author and other potential readers. There were definitely aspects of the story that I really liked. First, the general storyline, an “old flame” (that’s a stretch, but I’m going with it) coming back at just the right time, is a cliché that I can get behind. I also liked how sure Gavin was about Marlee from the word go. And, even though he made blunders (because guys are like that sometimes…well, all people are like that sometimes), there was good intent/support behind it. As follow up to that, I appreciated that when Marlee pointed out where those oversteps leaned towards the unhealthy, he legitimately tried to be better. And, relatedly, I liked that he never blamed her for any of his own mistakes, mis-reading, or (no spoilers) minor injuries. Applause for that. Another thing I enjoyed was Marlee’s business/job, and the importance she placed on it, the investment she put into it. It was great to see her be strong under trying circumstances, to follow her heart both in her personal and professional life and not, when the moment came, allowing herself to be walked all over again (even if it was by a “good” guy and even though it was heartbreaking for her). It made the ending that much more satisfying, for both Marlee and the reader, when it came. Last, and I know this may sound contradictory, considering my aforementioned feels about sports romances, but the “behind the scenes” look at life for an NFL wife/girlfriend was interesting. I can honestly say I’d never thought about it before, and some of the little details about it definitely added depth to the plot. (I also feel like I can, with a grain of salt, take them at face value, since Martin herself has personal experience in this area, which is pretty cool.) Small final detail: I am into the inclusion of current day tech and culture in books, so I liked Marlee's internal hashtags describing her life/situations.
On the other hand, a few things were weird for me. One, I was just not a fan of reading all the cattiness among the NFL wives/girlfriends. I get that they’re in an intense position, they’re fighting on behalf of/in defense of their partners, and that there always needs to be a source of drama as a plot device in a good romance novel. But it just all felt very much like middle and high school all over again and I wasn’t that into it. Also, some of the dialogue felt too cheesy for me. I am a person that is all about “whispering sweet nothings,” but I like them to be creative. A few lines made me cringe while reading them, which kind of took me out of the story a little too much. Perhaps others may love it. But those are my feels. Also, to be honest, the sex scenes were so-so. I’ve read a lot better. And that was a big “meh” situation, since a great sex scene is kind of make or break, for me, in a romance.
All in all, I have to say that I’m glad I tried this book. It’s important to get out of one’s reading comfort zone now and again. Plus, I truly was entertained and sped through it in just a couple days. The storyline was well put together and the pacing was solid, but there were a few parts that just didn’t hit quite right for me. I won’t say I’m against trying another sports-themed romance one day, but it’s for sure not at the top of my list. However, if you are not weirdly prejudiced against the sub-genre for an unexplainable reason, then you’ll probably enjoy this one and should give it a go!
It’s the summer, so romance rules, as you know. Haha. But seriously, I have known about this series for awhile but hadn’t been totally sold on trying it. Mainly it’s because sports romances are just not my preferred sub-genre. I cannot give you a reason for that, as I do love sports in a general sense. But there you go. However, I asked a couple people who recently reviewed it and they all said I should try it anyways…the sports story-line is present, but not overwhelming. So I went for it.
Marlee has been an NFL girlfriend for 10 years. Girlfriend. Just girlfriend. For 10 years. So when she catches her man cheating (again), she decides that’s really it this time. Enter Gavin. The new quarterback for her ex’s team. And a one night stand of hers from four years ago when she and her ex were on a break. A very hot one night stand. A one night stand who has clearly not forgotten about her (yup, he’s sending all sorts of subtle and not-so-subtle signals her way). But is it too soon for Marlee to be in a relationship again? And does she even want to date another athlete?
Alright, straight up, this has not sold me on sports romances. I don’t know what it is, but they are just really not for me. However, I’m going to try and review this objectively, putting aside my sports romance issues, in order to be fair to the author and other potential readers. There were definitely aspects of the story that I really liked. First, the general storyline, an “old flame” (that’s a stretch, but I’m going with it) coming back at just the right time, is a cliché that I can get behind. I also liked how sure Gavin was about Marlee from the word go. And, even though he made blunders (because guys are like that sometimes…well, all people are like that sometimes), there was good intent/support behind it. As follow up to that, I appreciated that when Marlee pointed out where those oversteps leaned towards the unhealthy, he legitimately tried to be better. And, relatedly, I liked that he never blamed her for any of his own mistakes, mis-reading, or (no spoilers) minor injuries. Applause for that. Another thing I enjoyed was Marlee’s business/job, and the importance she placed on it, the investment she put into it. It was great to see her be strong under trying circumstances, to follow her heart both in her personal and professional life and not, when the moment came, allowing herself to be walked all over again (even if it was by a “good” guy and even though it was heartbreaking for her). It made the ending that much more satisfying, for both Marlee and the reader, when it came. Last, and I know this may sound contradictory, considering my aforementioned feels about sports romances, but the “behind the scenes” look at life for an NFL wife/girlfriend was interesting. I can honestly say I’d never thought about it before, and some of the little details about it definitely added depth to the plot. (I also feel like I can, with a grain of salt, take them at face value, since Martin herself has personal experience in this area, which is pretty cool.) Small final detail: I am into the inclusion of current day tech and culture in books, so I liked Marlee's internal hashtags describing her life/situations.
On the other hand, a few things were weird for me. One, I was just not a fan of reading all the cattiness among the NFL wives/girlfriends. I get that they’re in an intense position, they’re fighting on behalf of/in defense of their partners, and that there always needs to be a source of drama as a plot device in a good romance novel. But it just all felt very much like middle and high school all over again and I wasn’t that into it. Also, some of the dialogue felt too cheesy for me. I am a person that is all about “whispering sweet nothings,” but I like them to be creative. A few lines made me cringe while reading them, which kind of took me out of the story a little too much. Perhaps others may love it. But those are my feels. Also, to be honest, the sex scenes were so-so. I’ve read a lot better. And that was a big “meh” situation, since a great sex scene is kind of make or break, for me, in a romance.
All in all, I have to say that I’m glad I tried this book. It’s important to get out of one’s reading comfort zone now and again. Plus, I truly was entertained and sped through it in just a couple days. The storyline was well put together and the pacing was solid, but there were a few parts that just didn’t hit quite right for me. I won’t say I’m against trying another sports-themed romance one day, but it’s for sure not at the top of my list. However, if you are not weirdly prejudiced against the sub-genre for an unexplainable reason, then you’ll probably enjoy this one and should give it a go!
This review originally appeared on the book review blog: Just One More Pa(i)ge.
“Words are seeds, Casiopea. With words you embroider narratives, and the narratives breed myths, and there's power in the myth. Yes, the things you name have power.”
I requested this one from NetGalley and was so excited when I was granted access. I love mythology, basically of any origin, but I have rarely (ever? …because after finishing I realized that the only parts of this book that were even remotely familiar were things I remembered from The Road to El Dorado, which, while it is one of my favorite animated films and has a phenomenal soundtrack, definitely does not count as an authority) read anything fictional based on Mayan myths and belief systems. Suffice it to say, that I was really exited to pick this one up.
Casiopea Tun is living a Cinderella-type live on her grandfather’s estate in rural Mexico, spending each day doing chores around the house and taking orders from her cousin Martín, while dreaming of the possibilities of a life far away, in Mexico City, enjoying the wonders of the Jazz Age. One day, she discovers an ancient wooden box in her grandfather’s room and, daring to open it, frees the spirit of the Mayan god of death (Hun-Kame). Trapped in the box for years, Hun-Kame requests Csiopea’s assistance in getting revenge on his brother, who had treacherously imprisoned him in the box with her grandfather’s help. Casiopea agrees. And thus she and Hun-Kame set off on a journey through the jungles of the Yucatán, some of Mexico’s most dazzling cities, and the dark, dangerous roads of the underworld.
The first thing I have to say, and I really hate to say this, is that I was a bit disappointed by this book. I wanted so badly to love it, but it just fell short for me. Here’s the thing, and it’s important because my biggest issue with this book is one that *could* be because it was an early copy: I was put off by the writing itself. It felt choppy and, especially at the beginning, quite poorly paced. I struggled to get into the story to start because it felt very convenient and contrived. Casiopea’s “bad luck” and “need to get out of her village” are all very common tropes in fantasy, and so I understand their presence, but since it all was introduced so quickly, with considerably more telling than showing as far as descriptions, the entire premise felt thin…which is just a tough way to start. As the story went on, this issue smoothed out slightly, and the choppy tone took on more of a “fairy tale” type vibe, which mostly worked, even though it never quite fully clicked and we were slow to get there. Basically, I am hoping that the final published version got some feedbacks and edits for flow and that some of those early chapters were smoothed out and given a little more time to develop.
On the other hand, I deeply and truly enjoyed reading and learning about all the culture, tradition and Mayan mythology and Mexican folklore that was included in every part of this novel. It was not just woven in, but rather created the meat of the tale. On almost every page there was a new god, belief, tradition, myth or spirit to learn about and I loved it! Although at times I wish the author had taken the time to give more background on everything, that’s a personal thing. She explained what she needed to for the story…and it prompted me to go do some more research on my own for more information, which was some of the most fun google time I’ve ever had! Along the same lines, the 1920’s ish culture in Mexico and the Yucatán was educational for me as well. I really enjoyed the vocabulary and traditions, they were so naturally included and set the scene and ambience very well. It made me very glad I was reading it on my kindle though, because I had to look up a number of words (mostly food/crop and nature-based items). While not everyone may like being dropped into a foreign setting like this, with an assumption from the author than you know what she’s talking about, I enjoy that. It makes for a much more authentic reading experience and I feel strongly positive about the way it puts the onus on the reader to learn outside their knowledge-base and not on the author to explain their own history to anyone who doesn’t know it (which is a “majority” assumption that should absolutely be gotten rid of, especially since there are now so many easy ways to access information).
One other thing I want to note, before wrapping up. I was not super sold on Casiopea’s relationship with Hun-Kame… It was fairly realistic that, sheltered and emotionally mistreated as she had been, even his rude “caring” might be seen as gentlemanly, but, for those same reasons, it rankled a bit to read it. However, despite my feelings throughout the novel, the way their relationship ends was exactly what I wanted from this book. It’s not always what I hope for, but it was here. In other news, I am all about some future Casiopea-and-Loray shenanigans.
All in all, I’m struggling with how to rate/recommend this book. I learned so much, truly loved what I learned, and have never read anything with this setting or atmosphere before, so from that perspective, I want to tell you to read it. However, as I have mentioned, I felt like it could have been written and developed in a much better way. In the end, it’s probably a toss-up that comes down to what is more important to you as a reader: what you experience or the way you experience it. And, in the end, I cannot say I at all regret the time I spent reading this, so that’s worth taking into consideration as well. (If you’ve read this, at all and especially the final published version that jus came out, I would really love to know how you felt about it – please let me know!)
“Words are seeds, Casiopea. With words you embroider narratives, and the narratives breed myths, and there's power in the myth. Yes, the things you name have power.”
I requested this one from NetGalley and was so excited when I was granted access. I love mythology, basically of any origin, but I have rarely (ever? …because after finishing I realized that the only parts of this book that were even remotely familiar were things I remembered from The Road to El Dorado, which, while it is one of my favorite animated films and has a phenomenal soundtrack, definitely does not count as an authority) read anything fictional based on Mayan myths and belief systems. Suffice it to say, that I was really exited to pick this one up.
Casiopea Tun is living a Cinderella-type live on her grandfather’s estate in rural Mexico, spending each day doing chores around the house and taking orders from her cousin Martín, while dreaming of the possibilities of a life far away, in Mexico City, enjoying the wonders of the Jazz Age. One day, she discovers an ancient wooden box in her grandfather’s room and, daring to open it, frees the spirit of the Mayan god of death (Hun-Kame). Trapped in the box for years, Hun-Kame requests Csiopea’s assistance in getting revenge on his brother, who had treacherously imprisoned him in the box with her grandfather’s help. Casiopea agrees. And thus she and Hun-Kame set off on a journey through the jungles of the Yucatán, some of Mexico’s most dazzling cities, and the dark, dangerous roads of the underworld.
The first thing I have to say, and I really hate to say this, is that I was a bit disappointed by this book. I wanted so badly to love it, but it just fell short for me. Here’s the thing, and it’s important because my biggest issue with this book is one that *could* be because it was an early copy: I was put off by the writing itself. It felt choppy and, especially at the beginning, quite poorly paced. I struggled to get into the story to start because it felt very convenient and contrived. Casiopea’s “bad luck” and “need to get out of her village” are all very common tropes in fantasy, and so I understand their presence, but since it all was introduced so quickly, with considerably more telling than showing as far as descriptions, the entire premise felt thin…which is just a tough way to start. As the story went on, this issue smoothed out slightly, and the choppy tone took on more of a “fairy tale” type vibe, which mostly worked, even though it never quite fully clicked and we were slow to get there. Basically, I am hoping that the final published version got some feedbacks and edits for flow and that some of those early chapters were smoothed out and given a little more time to develop.
On the other hand, I deeply and truly enjoyed reading and learning about all the culture, tradition and Mayan mythology and Mexican folklore that was included in every part of this novel. It was not just woven in, but rather created the meat of the tale. On almost every page there was a new god, belief, tradition, myth or spirit to learn about and I loved it! Although at times I wish the author had taken the time to give more background on everything, that’s a personal thing. She explained what she needed to for the story…and it prompted me to go do some more research on my own for more information, which was some of the most fun google time I’ve ever had! Along the same lines, the 1920’s ish culture in Mexico and the Yucatán was educational for me as well. I really enjoyed the vocabulary and traditions, they were so naturally included and set the scene and ambience very well. It made me very glad I was reading it on my kindle though, because I had to look up a number of words (mostly food/crop and nature-based items). While not everyone may like being dropped into a foreign setting like this, with an assumption from the author than you know what she’s talking about, I enjoy that. It makes for a much more authentic reading experience and I feel strongly positive about the way it puts the onus on the reader to learn outside their knowledge-base and not on the author to explain their own history to anyone who doesn’t know it (which is a “majority” assumption that should absolutely be gotten rid of, especially since there are now so many easy ways to access information).
One other thing I want to note, before wrapping up. I was not super sold on Casiopea’s relationship with Hun-Kame… It was fairly realistic that, sheltered and emotionally mistreated as she had been, even his rude “caring” might be seen as gentlemanly, but, for those same reasons, it rankled a bit to read it. However, despite my feelings throughout the novel, the way their relationship ends was exactly what I wanted from this book. It’s not always what I hope for, but it was here. In other news, I am all about some future Casiopea-and-Loray shenanigans.
All in all, I’m struggling with how to rate/recommend this book. I learned so much, truly loved what I learned, and have never read anything with this setting or atmosphere before, so from that perspective, I want to tell you to read it. However, as I have mentioned, I felt like it could have been written and developed in a much better way. In the end, it’s probably a toss-up that comes down to what is more important to you as a reader: what you experience or the way you experience it. And, in the end, I cannot say I at all regret the time I spent reading this, so that’s worth taking into consideration as well. (If you’ve read this, at all and especially the final published version that jus came out, I would really love to know how you felt about it – please let me know!)
Well damn. I just finished this and I am not even really sure what I just read. But I'll tell you what, I know I liked it! I just happened upon this book on the "new books" shelf at the library, just browsing through. The title got me first, being at the library myself. And then I read the jacket summary and knew this was a book for me. The subject matter, the fantasy realism, and the snarky tone was just icing on the cake. And really, the book followed through. It was all written with that touch of snark that took the edge off the fact that certain parts were downright disturbing and for probably 3/4 of the book I was just like poor Steve - being pulled along for a ride that I had NO IDEA how I got on or where it was going. And a little bit feeling like I was being sucker punched over and over again. I'll be honest though, totally worth it. This was just a completely different book than anything I've read before. The pacing and revelations were set up so well, moving fast enough that the fact that you really didn't follow what was happening seemed ok, because it kept getting a clearer a little bit at a time, right? And JUST when you think you're too confused to take it another second, normally around the same time Steve reached those points, you got handed a little more information. The story itself, as it was finally pulled together, was really expertly crafted - a nice little mix of mythology, lore, gods and men, drama and adventure, and just a splash of human feeling. The handing of the reigns that sat at the core of the plot was a fantastic linchpin. Just epic enough to account for the insanity of the rest of the story. And the characters, though they started off incredibly confusing, created such a varied cast that never got boring the read. I definitely had a soft spot for Erwin though, so I'm pretty damn happy about the ending. Happy for Steve too, come to that. And I can see where there might be a set up for a sequel here, but I think I'd probably not read it. This book was satisfying in the way that you eat so much of a great food that you've never felt so happy but at the same time never want to eat it again - maybe my thoughts will change, but I'm completely satiated by this story. And I don't want to ruin that. EXCELLENT debut.
I’m not sure what it was that drew me to think book originally, perhaps the cover (the colors and design really catch your eye), perhaps it was the title (again, something about it is really attention-grabbing), perhaps it’s because I heard it was based on a hit podcast and, though I’m not into podcasts, that seemed like a good recommendation upon which to choose a book. Or perhaps it’s none of those things… Regardless, I grabbed this book at a used book store months ago and, when saw the audiobook available at the library (I mean, doesn’t listening to a book based on a podcast seem like the exact right candidate for a next audiobook choice?) I took that as a sign that it was time to actually pick it up.
Night Vale is a strange place – a small town somewhere in the southwestern US, where time doesn’t really move like normal and angels exist (but it’s illegal to acknowledge them), government conspiracies are daily features, decorative lawn flamingos have a secret dangerous side, and librarians are dangerous, man-eating creatures. This novel tells the story of two women living in Night Vale. Jackie Fierro runs a pawn shop ad Diane is a PTA single mother raising a shape-shifting son named Josh. When a stranger comes to town and gives Jackie a piece of paper that reads “King City” that she can’t get rid of no matter what she does and Josh decides to take matters of finding his father into his own hands (because his mother won’t help), Jackie and Diane find themselves as unwitting partners trying to solve their individual life problems/mysteries that are, apparently, more intertwined than either ever imagined.
Ok everyone, this book was weird. And I mean really weird. Now, I knew that it was going to be a little strange going into it – I mean, just look at that plot description. And I like a strange book every now and again (for example, The Library at Mount Char is a favorite of mine, The Gentleman tickled my funny/satirical bone, and I do count myself as part of the Supernatural fandom). Actually, seriously, this book was like a combination of all those book/show styles and I would actually totally recommend it if you like any/all of those. So, what I can’t figure out, since, as mentioned, I love all those too, is what missed the mark for me. Because something definitely did. I literally never got into this book. And there were about three times while listening to it that I thought about giving it a break and trying again later, when I was in a different mood/headspace, but I convinced myself to keep going. It never got better for me. Now, perhaps this is because I have never listened to the podcast, but I don’t think that’s it. There was never a point where I thought that more background information would help, basically because everything is so peculiar and eerie and crazy that you could read/listen for hours to missives from/about Night Vale and not actually have any deeper of a grasp on what goes one there – to be fair, that’s definitely part of the allure of the podcast/book, I am sure, but it’s also why I think listening to the podcast first would have changed my reaction(s). There’re two main things that I think kept me from getting into it, and both are plot related. First, I think, is that it was all too weird for me to truly/meaningfully connect to the story (at least for a story of this length – maybe that’s why the podcast is better; weird is better in short pieces, for entertainment as opposed to for deeper significance). The second, and this may seem contradictory, is that the story (of a girl looking for meaning from a forgotten past and a boy searching for a missing father) are just too mundane for me in this setting. I wanted…more?...from a plot based in a location as weird as this one.
On the other hand, and to present a fair and even review of this novel, there were also some things I really liked. For example, the writing itself was great. It was smooth and intelligent and the punchy/snarky tone was fantastic. And I loved the way the book, like other extra-weird/unbelievable stories, was able to provide sarcastic and satirical commentary on real life in an insightful, light-shedding sort of way…a way that makes you realize the absurdities of our own reality, when they are reflected in a reality as bizarre as this one. There were quite a few times when I snorted, audibly, while listening (thank goodness I usually listen alone in my car, haha). There were so many little moments of brilliance and hilarity that I simply loved. It was just that they never added up to a whole that was greater than the sum of their parts (and again, we come back to the fact that I can totally see how this would work as a podcast, in shorter doses).
I realize that this review is definitely not a ringing endorsement of this book. But I’m more than willing, for this novel especially, to admit that it was a reader issue, not a book issue. And if this book sounds like one you’d be interested in, thematically and atmospherically, I would absolutely not let this review change your mind about that. Give it a try and then let me know what you thought, because I’m totally curious to hear other opinions on it – it’s a book that begs for a spectrum of reactions for sure.
Night Vale is a strange place – a small town somewhere in the southwestern US, where time doesn’t really move like normal and angels exist (but it’s illegal to acknowledge them), government conspiracies are daily features, decorative lawn flamingos have a secret dangerous side, and librarians are dangerous, man-eating creatures. This novel tells the story of two women living in Night Vale. Jackie Fierro runs a pawn shop ad Diane is a PTA single mother raising a shape-shifting son named Josh. When a stranger comes to town and gives Jackie a piece of paper that reads “King City” that she can’t get rid of no matter what she does and Josh decides to take matters of finding his father into his own hands (because his mother won’t help), Jackie and Diane find themselves as unwitting partners trying to solve their individual life problems/mysteries that are, apparently, more intertwined than either ever imagined.
Ok everyone, this book was weird. And I mean really weird. Now, I knew that it was going to be a little strange going into it – I mean, just look at that plot description. And I like a strange book every now and again (for example, The Library at Mount Char is a favorite of mine, The Gentleman tickled my funny/satirical bone, and I do count myself as part of the Supernatural fandom). Actually, seriously, this book was like a combination of all those book/show styles and I would actually totally recommend it if you like any/all of those. So, what I can’t figure out, since, as mentioned, I love all those too, is what missed the mark for me. Because something definitely did. I literally never got into this book. And there were about three times while listening to it that I thought about giving it a break and trying again later, when I was in a different mood/headspace, but I convinced myself to keep going. It never got better for me. Now, perhaps this is because I have never listened to the podcast, but I don’t think that’s it. There was never a point where I thought that more background information would help, basically because everything is so peculiar and eerie and crazy that you could read/listen for hours to missives from/about Night Vale and not actually have any deeper of a grasp on what goes one there – to be fair, that’s definitely part of the allure of the podcast/book, I am sure, but it’s also why I think listening to the podcast first would have changed my reaction(s). There’re two main things that I think kept me from getting into it, and both are plot related. First, I think, is that it was all too weird for me to truly/meaningfully connect to the story (at least for a story of this length – maybe that’s why the podcast is better; weird is better in short pieces, for entertainment as opposed to for deeper significance). The second, and this may seem contradictory, is that the story (of a girl looking for meaning from a forgotten past and a boy searching for a missing father) are just too mundane for me in this setting. I wanted…more?...from a plot based in a location as weird as this one.
On the other hand, and to present a fair and even review of this novel, there were also some things I really liked. For example, the writing itself was great. It was smooth and intelligent and the punchy/snarky tone was fantastic. And I loved the way the book, like other extra-weird/unbelievable stories, was able to provide sarcastic and satirical commentary on real life in an insightful, light-shedding sort of way…a way that makes you realize the absurdities of our own reality, when they are reflected in a reality as bizarre as this one. There were quite a few times when I snorted, audibly, while listening (thank goodness I usually listen alone in my car, haha). There were so many little moments of brilliance and hilarity that I simply loved. It was just that they never added up to a whole that was greater than the sum of their parts (and again, we come back to the fact that I can totally see how this would work as a podcast, in shorter doses).
I realize that this review is definitely not a ringing endorsement of this book. But I’m more than willing, for this novel especially, to admit that it was a reader issue, not a book issue. And if this book sounds like one you’d be interested in, thematically and atmospherically, I would absolutely not let this review change your mind about that. Give it a try and then let me know what you thought, because I’m totally curious to hear other opinions on it – it’s a book that begs for a spectrum of reactions for sure.
