Well I thought this was the last book, I thought it was a trilogy, and it turns out I'm wrong. There's 5 books, apparently. Anyways, this was not the end of the story. Mostly, things are all starting to blur together, regarding which book I read each plot point in, so I am going to have trouble speaking directly to this novel. Regardless, it continued on exactly in the direction and with the structure one would be expecting. Still great sex scenes. Still lots of hot people everywhere. Still so much money flying around. And still an unbelievable number of people with broken backgrounds that, as I said before, should really really come with trigger warnings. However, it's what one is looking for when one enters a story like this, so there you have it.

Sometimes, when school gets overwhelming and you just need a break, you can't help yourself. Guilty while I read it, but I did anyways...

This review originally appeared on the book review blog: Just One More Pa(i)ge.

Y’all. This book has been on my radar since it was published. Which, to be honest, I thought was sometime last year, but it turns out it was just this past January. Anyways the long and short of it is: Beauty and the Beast retelling? ALWAYS. And even though this one didn’t have quite as many libraries as the original, it had a lot of other aspects that made it unique and awesome in its own right.

So one of the biggest holes in Beauty and the Beast is the fact that all the villagers and townspeople totally just…forgot?... about the giant castle and its inhabitants that is right down the street from them. Or at least, that’s what my husband and I always thought. Of course, the magic of the curse can totally explain it away, because magic can do that, but still. Well, this retelling takes care of that plot hole in such a creative way! Reminiscent of the movie Enchanted (who doesn’t love that Amy Adams classic?), our heroine, Harper is from the real world. Our real world. Like, she lives in Washington D.C. with her family, present day, with a cell phone and everything. One night, she’s pretty much kidnapped (though kind of accidentally) and brought “across” to a parallel fantasy universe called Emberfall, when she meets Prince Rhen, who is cursed by a witch to repeat a season over and over while his kingdom falls apart around him. And Harper may be his last hope to break the curse and save his land. But Harper is not into helping her kidnappers…and is focused only on getting back to her family in the real world, because her mother is dying and her brother is in some serious trouble.

Straight up, the only thing that had me hesitant about this retelling was the real world/fantasy world crossover situation. I’ve read some really hokey versions of that. But almost immediately my worries melted away because Kemmerer handled it magnificently. It was believable and fantastical in perfectly equal balance and I loved it. Past that, I really was just along for the ride on this retelling of my favorite fairy tale. And it was everything I wanted. In fact, I think I liked this one ever more than the last BatB retelling I read, Hunted by Meagan Spooner, which was also, truly, super good. First of all, and most importantly, the pacing on this tale was spot on. I loved everything about how long and slow the burn was on Harper’s acceptance of her situation and, importantly, the romance. Harper is true to character from beginning to end in her forcefulness and dynamism. There is no undue feeling sorry for herself, no change in motives, no unwarranted apologies or trust/relationships that form too quickly to believe. And I love both the author and the character for that. As for Rhen, I actually really liked his character and the way he developed, or, more accurately, was slowly revealed, to the reader. I feel like he really owned the, mostly terrible, person he was before the curse, which I appreciated. And in fact, his years spent dwelling on all the things he caused to happen got him to a point where he was so wrapped up in blaming himself that he really needed help to dig out of the remorse. Honestly, it’s a really true representation of the emotional trauma he must have experienced, with no way to “treat” it, and I felt like his calculating front, as a protective mechanism, was well written and not overcome too quickly to be believable. As side characters go, Grey was fantastic; you always need a character like him and he played the role so well. Also, though I wish we had gotten slightly more insight into Lillith, we learned enough that, mixed with my general willingness to believe she had a sadistic side to start, she played the role of a horrific antagonist very well.

I also want to, all on its own, point out the disability rep. Harper has cerebral palsy (CP), a motor-control disorder caused by abnormal brain development (for which there is no cure). It’s a condition that she was born with and has had, as she mentions, a number of therapies to treat. I really liked the way Kemmerer treated this in the novel, with the juxtaposition of an overprotective brother who thinks that, because of it, Harper cannot take care of herself, versus Rhen and the other people of Emberfall who in fact see her as stronger because of her ability to live her life with it. Plus, I loved the way some of her youth therapies were actually great strengths in this new world she’s facing. And in general, the inner strength she has because of it is clearly a boon to her as she faces myriad challenges in Emberfall. Basically, I have never read anything with a main character with CP, which was awesome (I have an honorary niece with CP and you better believe I plan to give her this book when she’s old enough). And it was handled to well, being consistently mentioned and dealt with as a reality, but never overtaking Harper’s strength or abilities as a result.

As far as the elements of retelling, it was a great mix of nods to the original and new elements (i.e. - its much darker vibes) to keep things fresh. That’s exactly the combination I look for in a retelling so I soundly applaud that. I also want to reiterate how great the slow burn on the romance was because IT. WAS. GREAT. I know that some people think it was long…I liked the time that gave for realistic development. Relatedly, I want to (no spoilers) say that I really liked the way the book ended. It didn’t have the normal “absolute” wrap-up explanation that most fantasies have (especially retellings, where, really, you know the ending before you even start the story). And while that sounds like it leaves you on a cliffhanger, it doesn’t necessarily. As a sequel has been announced, I feel ok saying that there are, of course, elements left unresolved. However, I feel very satisfied with the way this ended and am not looking for more (yet, haha). The more important point I want to make about the ending, for me, is that there’s just a nice open-endedness that fits perfectly with Harper’s character. It allows for a “finale” to happen without her person need to compromise any of who she learned she was over the course of the story. It was really the exact right about of conclusion and un-surety.

*Notes: there are many reviews complaining about love triangles and I have to be honest, I never felt that. I read it more like the original BatB, in that sense, where there’s a clear romance end game, and never opened my mind to the possibility of a different outcome on that front. Also, for everyone comparing it to ACTOR – I disagree. This is a lovely retelling that, in all likelihood, I’ll consistently keep in mind as a standalone. I loved it for itself. ACTOR was good, but the beauty of the series is ACOMAF…it’s amazing beyond words, better than any other YA fantasy I’ve ever read, but it was necessary to save ACTOR. This book doesn’t need saving. It’s exactly what it needs to be on its own. Just my couple of cents on those common complaints.*

Bottom line, if you love Beauty and the Beast, if you are a fan of retellings, or if you’re just a fantasy person, I absolutely recommend this one. Fantastic pacing, romance, adventure, court/kingdom intrigue, unique character representation, magic and just enough drama. I loved it.

This review originally appeared on the book review blog: Just One More Pa(i)ge.

Here we are – the finale to this glittering trilogy about people with too much money for their own good and all the drama that ensues. I can’t even say how much of a guilty pleasure ride these novels have been, but what I can say is that, if you are looking for a soap opera of a series to escape into, look no further.

In this final installment, we get a convergence of all our main storylines from the past two books all coming together as Nick’s grandmother, Su Yi, lies on her deathbed. At Rahcel’s urging, Nick flies back to Singapore to try and find forgiveness for her before she leaves. Meanwhile, Astrid and Charlie are facing their own problems with mentally ill ex-spouses and complex divorce proceedings. Kitty is still putting all her effort into being the pinnacle of the rich Asian society, yet seems to be butting heads (dramatically) with her new step-daughter at every turn. And we also get some fun side stories from previous favorite characters like Colin and Araminta Khoo, Peik Lin, and Rachel’s newly discovered brother Carlton. With Su Yi’s whole fortune on the line, a family waiting like vultures to snap it all up, and the gossip columnists of the world searching for the next big scandal to break…what could possibly go wrong?

This was exactly the big finish I was looking for out of this series. Entertaining and alluring from start to finish, I sped through this novel. The first story I want to mention is Astrid’s. If you all remember from my last two reviews, she is absolutely my favorite character and I so badly wanted a happy ending for her. Although she ends up dealing with a lot in this novel (like, more scandals than any one person reasonably should) and I was definitely worried at a few points for her, I really liked where she ended up. It wasn’t exactly what I expected, but honestly, I think it was even better. In regards to our original leading couple, Nick and Rachel stayed cute, if kind of unbelievably/excessively so (at least with each other, haha). And I was definitely invested in their efforts to save Tyersall Park. In fact, I do wish a little more time had been spent on the content of the letters Su Yi left to Nick that allowed him to create his final plans re: Tyersall. Or, alternatively, I would be into reading a spin-off based on them, though it would definitely not be the same kind of light-hearted and hilarious series this one was. Anyways, I also liked where Kitty ended up, a lot. I know she was probably one of the most annoying characters for me to read throughout the series, but honestly, her character arc was probably one of the most well-developed and nuanced and, in the end, I appreciated her growth and her general role in events quite a bit. I wasn’t sure after book two where she really fit in, to be honest, since she was in no way actually connected to the rest of the families/characters in play…but I see it now and I like it. And, while almost too cheesy for words, the little wrap-up chapter at the end, a sort of epilogue for all our favorites new and old, was the perfect ending for this kind of reading experience.

Like I said when this review started, the drama is real from start to finish. The scandals and cattiness and interfering family levels are off the charts, but really that’s what makes this such a fun set of books to read. It’s the perfect escapism literature. And while I loved the movie (and I truly did love it!), I would absolutely be into watching an entire tv series of these books. There is so much potential to take things farther than the books did, so much entertainment possibility…I almost can’t even. I was never a soap opera person, but after seeing what was possible for a “new age” soap opera with Jane the Virgin, all I can say is that I’d be the first person to watch a similar type show based on these novels – do you hear me, tv producers?! Haha. Anyways, I clearly recommend these books – go pick them up and have a blast reading them!

This review originally appeared on the book review blog: Just One More Pa(i)ge.

This first novel by Ocean Vuong (who has previously published a collection of poetry that has been on my TBR for years) is the most recent book that I’ve seen sweeping the reading community. I’ve seen nothing but amazing reviews and recommendations and so I knew that, eventually, I’d want to read it. But I had planned to read his poetry first. However, I made a spur of the moment book decision when I walked past this one on my library’s “Lucky Day” shelf and (knowing how long the waitlist was for the book and audiobook, because of course I’d checked that) decided to grab it.

This novel is one long “letter” from a young man, Little Dog, to his (illiterate) mother. Knowing that his mother will likely never actually read the letter, Little Dog is able to speak openly and truthfully to many subjects, from his family’s past in Vietnam to the sometimes-violent relationship between them to their time spent as immigrants in the United States to his own sexuality and general feelings.

Honestly, I completely see why this book has garnered all the vehement support of the reviewer/reader community. It is, truly, one of the most gorgeous (reference intended) books I have ever read. There is absolute poetry in his words, in every line and on every page, in a way that is meant to be savored slowly. In fact, I’m sorry that I got this as a Lucky Day book, actually, because the two-week loan (with no option to renew) was not enough time for me to appreciate the writing. I have never read a book slower, for all that it’s not very long, because I felt like I had to take constant breaks to fully digest and cherish what I was reading. I reread full sections, pages, right after finishing them, because the words were just too beautiful to only experience once. And each reread gave me more depth, as I noticed and understood more than I had the first time through. I don’t think I’ve actually ever read prose like that before, writing that is more than just poetic prose and crosses over into poetry shaped as prose. Simply breathtaking. And it wasn’t just that, but the way that themes and images are introduced throughout the larger novel and, over time, are reintroduced, referenced, and woven together to create something so finessed and interlaced that the whole far surpasses even the perfection of the individual pieces. I just really don’t think I’ve ever experienced a book like I did this one - there’s really nothing I can write to do justice to Vuong’s language and you just have to go experience it for yourself. (Side note: I absolutely want to read his poetry more than ever now.)

As for the “plot,” such as it is…this is less a traditional novel, with a storyline that rises and falls, and more a collection of reflections and reminiscences of the moments that made Little Dog what he is. It’s the portrait of those memories that created the life and identity he inhabits. And it’s the perfect way to take advantage of Vuong’s style…using the language to carry his points rather than a true plot or other device. There’s nothing behind which to hide, which is ok, because there is nothing Vuong is trying to hide. This is a reflection on city living, substance misuse and addiction, mental health, creativity and writing, sexuality, death and grief, first love, masculinity, family, and the reality of being an immigrant in a country that does very little to show it wants you there. The breadth of topics covered and explored is astounding, even to me, as I tried to list them all out right here, even though I just finished reading. I almost cannot believe how much Vuong is able to cover, and so comprehensively and emotionally, in such a short work. And although there were certain parts that spoke to me more strongly than others, some jarring, some earnest, some that hit me strongly and some that I connected with less, they are all full of a certain rawness that is impossible to ignore.

Vuong’s style of storytelling may not be one that works for everyone, but even so, it is written in a way that is so objectively stunning, so exquisite, so urgent, that I cannot find fault with that. I’d like to end by just adding my voice to the praise this book has received.

So, I can’t talk that much about the language of the novel, without giving examples, right? And oh, I had so very many examples. I marked and highlighted so many passages…here’s just a “small” selection of those that struck me:

“To live, then, is a matter of time, of timing.”

“Because love, at its best, repeats itself. Shouldn’t it?”

“…but some things are so gauzed behind layers of syntax and semantics, behind days and hours, names forgotten, salvaged and shed, that simply knowing the wound exists does nothing to reveal it. […] I guess what I mean is sometimes I don’t know what or who we are. Days I feel like a human being, while other days I feel more like a sound. I touch the world not as myself but as an echo of who I was.”

“Sometimes you are erased before you are given the choice of stating who you are.”

“To be or not to be. That is the question. A question, yes, but not a choice.”

“Because a bullet without a body is a song without ears.”

“This is my superpower, he thinks: to make a dark even darker than what’s around me.”

“It was dark enough for my eyes to swallow all of him without ever seeing him clearly.”

“I remember it all because how can you forget anything about the day you first found yourself beautiful?”

“He loves me, he loves me not, we are taught to say, as we tear the flower away from its flowerness. To arrive at love, then, is to arrive through obliteration. Eviscerate me, we mean to say, and I’ll tell you the truth.”

“Sometimes, when I’m careless, I think survival is easy: you just keep moving forward with what you have, or what’s left of what you were given, until something changes – or you realize, at last, that you can change without disappearing, that all you had to do was wait until the storm passes you over and you find that – yes – your name is still attached to a living thing.”

“But for now, the city brims before us with a strange, rare brilliance – as if it was not a city at all, but the sparks made by some god sharpening his weapon above us.”

“To stay tender, the weight of your life cannot lean on your bones.”

“It’s in these moments, next to you, that I envy words for doing what we can never do – how they can tell all of themselves simply by standing still, simply by being. Imagine I could lie down beside you and my whole body, every cell, radiates a clear, singular meaning, not so much a writer as a word pressed down beside you.”

“In a world myriad as ours, the gaze is a singular act: to look at something is to fill your whole life
with it, if only briefly.”

“Too much joy, I swear, is lost in our desperation to keep it.”

“I’m not telling you a story so much as a shipwreck – the pieces floating, finally legible.”

“Let no one mistake us for the fruit of violence – but that violence, having passed through the fruit, failed to spoil it.”

“If, relative to the history of our planet, an individual life is so short, a blink of an eye, as they say, then to be gorgeous, even from the day you’re born to the day you die, is to be gorgeous only briefly.”

“Because the sunset, like survival, exists only on the verge of its own disappearance.”

This review originally appeared on the book review blog: Just One More Pa(i)ge.

When it was published last year, I saw a lot of mixed reviews on this novel. Which does sort of make sense, since it was long listed for the Man Booker Prize, and many prize winners do tend to be polarizing (in style and/or message). I am always interested in seeing what these mixed review books are like for myself, and this one was no different. Although it wasn’t a top of the list TBR for me, I knew I’d get there eventually, and here we are.

Three sisters, Grace, Lia and Sky, live in a remote area with their mother and father (King). King has crafted a sort of cult-like existence for the women of his family, using various “therapies” (read: abuses and emotional manipulations) to cleanse them, keep them safe from the toxins in the world around them, and prepare them for the suffering that life will bring them. He has marked the borders of their land and, in a pretense of keeping them safe from the men in the outside world, who could do them immeasurable harm, has kept them sequestered for their whole lives. But one day, King leaves. And shortly thereafter, three men wash up on their shores, throwing everything they’re been taught into question and forcing the girls to make some difficult choices to preserve or escape their lives.

Well, I feel bad that I cannot provide a definite report on my feeling about this book, but I, like everyone else it seems, am full of mixed feelings now that I’ve finished. Let’s perhaps start with the good things. For one, I loved the writing. And it does seem, after everything I’ve read, that the writing itself is what garnered the positive reviews and prize nominations for everyone else too. Mackintosh created an eerie and impressively creepy atmospheric feel. From page one, I was gripped in the tension of the tale…before I had any idea what was going on, no hint of what might happen, or anything even remotely approaching “understanding.” You just know, right from the beginning, that everything is just…off. And you can feel that it’s only going to get worse. Pulled in suddenly and smoothly, I realized more than once while listening (side note here: the audiobook was really well narrated) that my hands were clutching the steering wheel in my car so tightly that I was getting sore. So, yea, basically phenomenal writing and ambience building.

Also, I think, if I interpreted it correctly, that I liked King’s creation of a “big bad” outside world, full of toxins and dangerous men, that he is attempting to save his girls from. To be honest, while it is, in some ways, an exaggeration of reality, it is also not really that far off base. It’s a focus on only the negatives (supported, of course, by the various women who come from the “mainland” to attempt to join this little cult and be cured/saved from their own trials and abuses) and of course, serves only King’s purposes (irony of ironies: he is a man), but I like the attached message: that this is a sort of dystopia situation that, while unrealistic, is still, actually, totally possible in the present-day world…no trace of fantasy to be found. Kudos to Mackintosh for pulling off that juxtaposition. (Side note: while I liked the greater narrative message of King’s utopia, the entire “therapy” thing was icky and disturbing and, many times, super hard to read. King was awful – he inflicted way worse trauma on these girls than the real world would have done.) And the ending, I loved loved loved the way it ended! That is the way, based on everything we have learned of the ways the girls were raised, what they were taught, and all the things they’ve already individually suffered at the hands of the few men they’ve known, it should have ended. I supported their choices wholeheartedly, from a narrative perspective. Very satisfying, within the context, and I can’t ask for more from an ending.

On the other hand, there were definitely a few things about this novel that left me wanting something more. The biggest thing, for me, is how vague all the references to the outside world and previous happenings in King’s little cult-like world were. I understand that that type of reference helped play into the unnerving and sinister ambiance, which was the shining glory of the novel, but still. There were some times that I just wasn’t sure what I was interpreting/understanding were correct – it was just a little too ethereal. And it made my connection to the story and its messages less robust than it could have been. Also, the timeline is, for me, slightly unrealistic. I feel like one week (ish) is just not enough time for all these emotional and sexual explorations to play out and then implode. After the appearance of the three men, literally the first men they’ve ever seen other than their father, it just seems unrealistic that their “defenses” (if you will) could ever lower to the degrees they lowered in such little time. It just frustrated me because it all seemed like nothing with as much substance as these relationships seemed to have had could have developed so quickly. I don’t know, perhaps it’s possible under the extreme, remote and emotionally undernourished circumstances of Grace, Lia and Sky’s lives, but I’m not sure I was totally sold on it. It does help that the two who were most impacted (Grace and Lia) had the largest sections of narration, which gave a bit more depth to their development and insight to their actions/choices, but still. And it did seem strange to me, as a writing choice, that Sky was the only one who never got a voice (and based on the ages we get/assume) she was more than old enough to have one. I would have liked to hear her perspective and see, perhaps, her own interactions with the youngest of the “men,” for contrast and added complexity. Last, I was weirded out (both in my feels and as far as how I liked it as a plot device) the role King had in the men’s appearance…and why their coming seemed like a legitimate and necessary plan for him to make. I just wasn’t sold there. Anyways, the bottom line as far as the entire plot goes, I kind of just wanted more. And while I cannot totally put my finger on what it is that I would have wanted, I know that it just didn’t stand its ground against the quality of the writing.

To sum up what turned into an incredibly long review. The writing and ambiance were amazing. The messages about the dangers of violence against women and the power they have to defend and support themselves/each other were spot on. The plot was less substantial and less well-defined than I was hoping for. Overall, a really solid read, one with chilling vibes that will keep you up at night.

“Refrain of the man, universal: This is not my fault!
See also: I absolve myself of responsibility.
And: I never said that. You can't take the actions of my body as words.”

“You can think things into being. You can dwell them up from the ground.”

“Love...also taught me that loss is a thing that builds around you. That what feels like safety is often just absence of current harm, and those two things are not the same.”

“Our lives are our lives.”

“It is possible there are no safe places left. It is possible that we can create a new one with our rage and our love, that other women are already out there, doing the work. We are going to meet them. They will recognize us, no longer children, and hold out their arms to us. They will say, What took you so long?”

This review originally appeared on the book review blog: Just One More Pa(i)ge.

“If you’re queer, your life has the potential to be one long coming-out moment.”

I’ve had this one on my TBR for awhile. I have never read anything by a non-binary person before, at least, not someone openly identifying as non-binary. And, for me, that is what reading is for – to learn and grow and see from perspectives that are not you own.

Ben De Backer is a senior in high school when they comes out to their parents as non-binary and are kicked out of the house. With nowhere to go, they call their sister, a sister they haven’t seen in ten years, and she and her husband take Ben in. Ben decides to ride under the radar for the last little bit of high school, coming out to just their sister, her husband, and their therapist, while struggling with anxiety and the rejection of their parents. But what Ben doesn’t count on is making friends at their new school, an art teacher who supports and helps them with creative outlet, and finding a support network that just might help them own who they truly are.

This book starts with a massive punch to the gut, with negative emotions of all kinds (from anguish to anger and everything in between), running amok. It was so incredibly hard to read about Ben’s bravery in coming out to their parents ending in them being homeless and alone and outside in the middle of winter without shoes! And I know, I do know, that so many LGBTQ+ youth face this (and I too live in NC, where this story takes places, and I’ve seen how awful people down here can be), but honestly, there’s nothing like reading something in detail (other than actually experiencing it, obviously) to really make it feel real. It was heartbreaking. And I appreciated the reality the author wrote with, as far as Ben’s perspective is concerned. There are no easy fixes, fast emotional recoveries, big turnarounds, or anything of the sort. Deaver pulls no punches as far as Ben’s feelings, reactions and mental health go. It’s handled with all the maturity one could/should expect of a teenager, one who is dealing with things way beyond their years (and doing an amazing job with it, all things considered) and still doesn’t yet have the coping mechanisms to healthfully deal with everything they’re going through. It’s slow-going and at times frustrating for both the reader and Ben (with setback from all angles, including, because they clearly hadn’t done enough damage, Ben’s parents, and some pent-up feelings about their sister leaving years ago, despite her efforts to help them now). But it rings true in a very important way.

Yet at the same time, there is so much hope still, not least that Ben is young and has a chance to move forward and move on and grow into their own true self, that Ben’s sister and brother-in-law are so willing to try and be the support they need. But even greater than that, at least in Ben’s world, is their new friend, Nathan. I want a Nathan. Like, I have a serious book crush on this funny, light-up-the-room guy that also loves reading (all genres!) and writing papers and has his own secrets. Be still my freaking heart! He’s the perfect new friend for Ben, pushing them out of their comfort zone but also being totally willing to bail and aid if it legitimately becomes too much. And, it wouldn’t be the heartwarming, coming-of-age, coming-out, YA story that it is without a little first love romance – so get your feels ready to transform from sadness and anger into happy tears and fuzzy hearts.

This novel was beautifully relatable, felt so fully real, addressed some truly difficult topics in a gorgeous way, and was incredibly educational. There’s a blurb review on the front cover from Becky Albertalli that says “This book will save lives.” and I cannot think of anything more true. This is the type of book that any non-binary, queer or questioning youth needs, to know they’re not alone and that there are people who do and will love them in this world. And it’s the type of book that any cis youth needs, to help them learn how to be understanding in a genuinely supportive way. It’s a book I wish I’d had when I was younger, and am now approaching in a better late than never way, as far as the best way to be a sincere ally. There are, of course, no true road maps to life, but this book is a fantastic guideline, and I deeply recommend it.

P.S. – I, like Nathan, am learning, with pronouns and vocabulary and understanding. So please, tell me if anything I’ve said in this review isn’t worded right, and know that I meant no purposeful offense or harm, and that I too am a work in progress.