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

Alright, something you may not know about me is that I am a sucker for a story about a band/music. I’m not sure what it is, but I do know that I can trace it back to reading The Dirt in high school with one of my best friends. (Of note: said friend and I are still quite close and absolutely made a day date out of drinking mimosas and watching the Netflix adaptation. Be jealous.) So after reading and really enjoying the writing/story of Evelyn Hugo last year, I knew for sure that Jenkins Read’s most recent novel, Daisy Jones was absolutely a must-read situation for me. And although it took me longer than I had hoped to pick it up, I was so right about how much I’d love it.

Daisy Jones is a gorgeous young girl coming of age in L.A. in the late 60s. She’s into sex, drugs and rock n’ roll, and has a voice that’s starting to get noticed. The Six, led by Billy Dunne, are a band that’s also starting to get some traction after the release of their first album. When Daisy and Billy cross paths, and a producer realizes them together could be something really, really big. And boy was he right. But like all great legends, there’s so much going on that no one sees…

Holy ever-loving, mind-blowing awesomeness, this book was SO GOOD! I know that it’s been really popular and all the reviews have said this same thing, basically, but I feel absolutely compelled to add my voice to the chorus. This was un-put-down-ably entertaining. Told as an oral history of the band, with input from almost all the members and some key additional persons (the manager, Billy’s wife, Daisy’s best friend), the flow and style invited one of the most literal “just one more page” reading experiences I’ve ever had. I loved how easy it was to read and follow, the pacing and flow were perfect, and being able to see all the contributors’ memories, and the way they differently experienced the exact same events, was fascinating. It was such a cool way to get insight into many different people’s takes on the story, without it getting too bogged down in itself. And, of course, like I said, such a fun and entertaining way to read.

Plot-wise, we get to see the rise of both Daisy Jones and The Six separately, and then also together, and I was really into both situations. Getting a feel for Daisy and Billy’s pasts and personalities individually was such an important baseline that made reading them together even more compelling. Jenkins Reid wrote their relationship so well. The tension that was there artistically, emotionally, professionally and sexually, in both positive and negative ways, was definitely one of the highlights of the novel. They were explosive in all the ways that make for great music and great reading and I felt like the complexities of that truly came alive throughout the book. Plus, the way all the surrounding band relationships and drama played out alongside and intertwined with the two of them, to culminate in the final Chicago Stadium show and the dissolution of the group, was deftly executed and made everything feel so real, no forced actions or unbelievable interactions. And that goes for all the members – I never felt like one person or one decision was more or less tangible or credible than the others. Gahhhhhhhh, just so good!

I know that this band isn’t real, but I want them to be so badly. Like, if someone could please take the lyrics that are indexed in the back and create this hit album in real life, I would be so down with that. Like, honestly, that’s my only complaint about this entire book, that the characters are fictional. So I feel like if that’s not a testament to how amazing a reading experience this was, I don’t know what is. Bottom line, this is definitely one of my favorite reads of the year and I recommend it to anyone/everyone who is looking for an engaging, compulsively readable and thoroughly entertaining read.

There are so many quotes that stuck out to me. Probably because it’s basically just a book-length collection of the best soundbites from each contributor, haha. Regardless, here’s a bunch of the words that I loved/highlighted as I read:

“However, it should also be noted that, on matters both big and small, sometimes accounts of the same event differ. The truth often lies, unclaimed, in the middle.”

“I had absolutely no interest in being somebody else’s muse. I am not a muse. I am the somebody. End of fucking story.”

“What’s good is when everybody thinks you’re headed somewhere fast, when you’re all potential. Potential is pure fuckin’ joy.”

“I think you have to have faith in people before they earn it. Otherwise it’s not faith, right?”

“It is what I have always loved about music. Not the sounds or the crowds or the good times as much as the words – the emotions, and the stories, the truth – that you can let is flow right out of your mouth.”

“…if you redeem yourself, then believe in your own redemption.”

“When you have everything, someone else getting a little something feels like they’re stealing from you.”

“It’s like some of us are chasing after our nightmares the way other people chase dreams.”

“But if I did believe in [soulmates], I’d believe your soul mate was somebody who had all the things you didn’t, that needed all the things you had. Not somebody who’s suffering from the same stuff you are.”

“I’m saying that when you really love someone, sometimes the things they need may hurt you, and some people are wroth hurting for. […] That’s why it’s a dangerous thing, when you go loving the wrong person. When you love somebody who doesn’t deserve it. You have to be with someone that deserves your faith and you have to be deserving of someone else’s. It’s sacred.”

“You can’t control another person. It doesn’t matter how much you love them. You cant love someone back to health and you can’t hate someone back to health and no matter how right you are about something, it doesn’t mean they will change your mind.”

“You’re all sorts of things you don’t even know yet.”

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

This book was neither on my radar nor my TBR until just a few weeks ago, when one of my fellow bookstagrammers, @beingabookwyrm, started the hashtag #READETHIOPIAN, so spread awareness of books by Ethiopian authors. And literally the day after I saw her post about this book, it was on the new book shelf as I was browsing at my library. So, I threw by TBR up-nexts out the window and grabbed this one instead.

The Shadow King is historical fiction set in Ethiopia in the mid-1930s when Mussolini’s Italian troops invaded the country. Hirut has just been orphaned and is adjusting to life as a servant in Kidane and his wife Aster’s household. Kidane is an officer in the Ethiopian army and, as a member of his household, Hirut is pulled into conflict, eventually becoming a soldier in her own right. But not only does she deal with fighting the vastly technologically superior Italian army, she also works to tend the wounded after each battle, and faces her own personal struggles with Kidane’s unwanted and forced advances, as well as many humiliations at the hands of the Italians, specifically Jewish photographer Ettore, after she is captured.

First, I have to be completely honest and say that I had no idea that Italy’s invasion of Ethiopia was one of the first conflicts in the Second World War, or, truly, that it was a front in the war at all, at any point. It’s embarrassing and really unacceptable that I don’t remember being taught about it at all in school – what a complete and ridiculous oversight by public education. Not a surprise, not even close to the first time I’ve learned about a time period or situation that I had no idea about, regardless of my many years in the public school system – but still, a condemnation of the system for sure. In any case, yet again I am shown why reading is so important to broaden horizons and learn, no matter how old you are. So yes, as a historical fiction piece, this was fantastic and educational and horribly insightful (TW for many forms of violence and trauma) in an important and necessary way.

I also appreciated the inclusion of Ettore’s perspective, as a Jewish-Italian soldier. It gave great depth to the story, to see not only the affect of the invasion and war on Ethiopia and its people, but also on the other (much more well-known) victims of WWII, and the ethical and allegiant struggles of that population. Ettore was not comfortable with what he was asked to do, but felt he had no choice as an “unprotected” citizen, feeling that his only protection came with following orders, even when he knew they were wrong. Honestly, it was fascinating because both objectively and subjectively Hirut and Aster and the rest of the people of Ethiopia suffered far worse than Ettore and the Italians in Ethiopia (Jewish or otherwise), and yet there is still a kernel of pity for Ettore and his situation within Hirut and, I’d guess, many readers. That kind of subtle character development and situational grey-space is the mark of phenomenal writing. But anyways, back to the main part of the story – Hirut and Aster and the rest of the women in the Ethiopian army were a gorgeous focal population. I loved learning about them, their role(s) in fighting for their country, Hirut’s idea for the shadow king and how successfully that strategy played out, and just generally the events of the time period and location that I knew nothing about. I definitely spent quite a bit of time on Google while I was reading, searching for more context and details.

As far as the writing, it was so unique. I found, to start that it was a little difficult to find the flow of – alternating between lush descriptions and choppy interactions. Plus, the various perspectives, including interludes from the Emperor himself, a “chorus” in the Greek tradition, and descriptions of the photographs that Ettore takes/develops, along with the regular narration from Hirut (which took getting used to in its own way), were not easy to follow right away. Plus, there are no quotation marks used for dialogue; which is fine, but definitely an adjustment. But oh my goodness, once I caught the pacing and settled into the movement, it was gorgeous. As a note, I did find that every time I put the book down, I’d struggle to re-find that flow again once I picked it back up…so after the first few times, I realized it was a novel meant to be read in larger chunks, and I made time and actually read the entire second half in one sitting. That was, for me, the right way to do it. I lost myself in the book after I realized that and sailed right through to the end.

I do want to note that this was not a quick read for me. Like I said, I struggled to get back into it every time I put it down. When I changed up my pattern and gave myself time to sink into it for however long it took to finish, things really picked up for me. But overall, it was about a 3-week reading process, which is very slow for me. I know for sure that the style will not be for everyone, so please be aware of that, and open-minded to it, if you pick this up. Also, I do feel like it felt as long as it was. I can’t necessarily say that it dragged – all the perspectives helped really elucidate the setting and experience and time period – but it was definitely a slow-paced novel. But it also was not fast or easy. This is a book that took effort to read. A deserved effort, one that I felt was worth it, but significant effort all the same. I just want to be upfront about my review, as many of my comments are positive (and I stand by them), but there were also a lot of challenges to the actual reading process, for me.

I really appreciate my time spent with this novel. I want to make it clear that it was lyrical and educational and the complexity of the characters and authentic exploration of what it means to be a woman in a war were excellently written. Really this book is something special. But it’s also one that I recommend with a caution – to be ready for the unique style and in the mood for a slower-paced and exploratory educational reading experience.

“Not many are born when they should be. How I hope this time is meant for you.”

“She is one woman. She is many women. She is all the sound that exists in the world.”

“…a fact that has always ben so: that the dead area stronger. That they know no physical boundaries. They reside in the corners of every memory and rise up, again and again, to resist all our efforts to leave them behind and let them rest.”

“See this man in the tender moment before he takes his wife. See him wrestle with the first blooms of untapped emotion. Let the minutes stretch. Remove the expectations of a father. Remove the admonishments to stand tall and stay strong. Eliminate the birthright, the privilege of nobility, the weight of ancestors and blood. Erase his father’s name and that of his grandfather’s father and that of the long line of men before them. Let him stand in the middle of that empty bedroom in his wedding tunic and trousers, in this gilded cape and gold ring, and then disappear his name, too. Make of him nothing and see what emerges willingly, without taint of duty or fear.”

“There is no escape but what you make on your own.”

“She has no body, no heart, no tongue, no breath. Only a fire bubbling inside, trembling like a tightening fist, pushing against her throat, climbing into her head, stretching inside her until there is no past. There is no future. There is no time that is not here.”

“Sing of those who are no more, / Sing of the giants still amongst you, / Sing of those yet to be born. / Sing.”

“Here is the truth he wants to ignore: that what is forged into memory tucks itself into bone and muscle. It will always be there and it will follow us to the grave.”

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

Basically, it was the title of this book that got me. Honestly, there’s no way anyone can convince me that a title like this doesn’t grab their interest. Nope. You can’t do it. This title is fantastic. And really, that’s all it took. (So, there’s a plug for choosing the right title if I’ve ever heard one. I’d never heard of these authors before – not their cooking show, their comedy, or their apparently super popular murder podcast – none of it. And I still picked up this book because the title is just that good.)

So, these two authors started a podcast a few years ago called My Favorite Murder. And it turns out a lot of people are really into true crime, and their comedic back and forth take on cold cases, etc. gained a massive fan base. I totally get how that happened. If I was a podcast person, and I know I’ve already mentioned in a few posts that I’m not (even though apparently I am into reading books by authors who started in comedy/podcasts, see You Can’t Touch My Hair, off the top of my head), I would absolutely listen to that. Fascinating. Anyways, this collection of essays by the duo covers topics ranging from how they met, how the podcast got started, their youth/growing up and how they each got interested in this topic to begin with, general “self-help” tips (both related to avoiding murder and not), and overall insight into their own lives and their personal traumas and mental health and (copious) attendance of therapy sessions.

I honestly had no real idea what to expect out of this collection. And, like all comedy nonfiction that I’ve read, it was a mixed bag that leaned towards the overall entertaining, at least in my opinion. Things that I really liked included, importantly, that listening to the audiobook was awesome. Now, that should be obvious, since the two started as podcast people, but still, this was the best author-narrated piece I’ve listened to since Born a Crime. They had great tone and inflection, were clear and comfortable, mixed studio and live recording sections in, and had a number of moments where they recorded together as sort of conversational interviews, which was super fun. (As I mentioned earlier, if I was a podcast person, I would absolutely be into theirs.) Also, I liked the length. It was long enough to get to know them and have some fun (and learn some things) with their memories and stories, but not so long that I started to get bored or felt like it dragged anywhere. And it was really interesting to hear their individual journeys and perspectives on how they got so into true crime (commonality: growing up in the 80s was apparently lawless and terrifying, haha) and how they met each other.

As with all collections, some essays and sections appealed to me more than others, and I’m sure those sections change for those who’ve listened to their podcast than they are for me, someone with no experience with them. And while I enjoyed pretty much the whole collection in general (with some slower chapters for me being the ”latchkey kid” sections and some of the elongated explorations of their juvenile issues, of which there were many), one of the first chapters, “Fuck Politeness” was one of my favorites. Great commentary on the difference between being legitimately kind and not listening to your gut just because things might get awkward. As a female, and I’m going to assume this is the same for almost all women, I felt profoundly seen and spoken to with this concept. And it’s an idea I absolutely plan to carry with me moving forwards in my life. I was also particularly struck by the last chapter, “Stay Our of the Forest” when they talk about the feedback from listeners regarding victim blaming. It was both a wonderful and vulnerable sharing of how they were “wrong,” if you will, and took the constructive criticism in the way it was meant, and are now advertising how they are trying to be better and how we can all do the same. The main focus was on victim blaming and the language we use around serial rapists/murderers and how we should really restructure our entire outlook. They recognize the outside forces that make this hard, and gave us our victim-blaming lean in the first place, of course, but also I just found the sharing of their new insights and the truth it carried to be deeply affecting. What a profound note to end on. Very very impactful. And the other piece of this book that I truly loved was their openness about their own mental health issues, of various kinds, and the frequency with which they see therapists to help with it all. I LOVE that normalization of seeking help and the complete openness with which they support it, share how much it has helped them, and encourage others to do the same. Such an important message and I’m into it.

Again, as with all collections, some sections just weren’t as much for me. I know I kinda mentioned a few of them earlier. But really, overall, my life has looked so much different that these two lives. And part of reading nonfiction and memoirs like this, for me, is to see and learn experiences foreign to my own. In general, it helps me keep an open mind and reminds me to consider all the different backgrounds and issues people come from and deal with. However, there were just some parts of these authors lives that were not compelling for me to listen to. Maybe because they were too like my own to be interesting? Or maybe because of the mood I was in when I listened? Or maybe some reason I haven’t thought of? Regardless, that’s what memoirs are usually like for me, so I moved right along listening with passing interest at those parts and then got back into real investment when the next section came up. It’s not a reflection on the book itself, just on me. The other strange things, I thought, was that, based on the title, there was not as much murder in this book as I thought there’d be. I mean, I get the title, with their podcast, but if you are expecting a lot of actual exploration of true crime here, you’ll be a bit disappointed. There are a number of references to specific cases/stories throughout, but nothing past surface level. Actually, it’s a great marketing scheme, because it totally makes me want to go listen t the podcast to find out more. Or, more likely cause it’s me, find book written about it and read those. Or, even more likely cause it’s me, theoretically want to do that but not ever actually do it because I’m too scared/paranoid as it is. But whatever, props to them and their agents for that well-developed and crafty plan.

Long story short, this was a very entertaining and quick read. The narration was great, the tone was friendly and conspiring in a fun way, the essays were, for the most part, appealing and compelling, and the couple of moments of legitimate introspection/focus on the reality of mental health struggles was really moving. Overall, I was charmed by and truly enjoyed this book.

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

This is one of those classics that I have been meaning to read for years and years and just never have. It’s a bit sad, really, considering how much of a fantasy/sci-fi fan I am, though to be fair, I do lean more fantasy than sci-ci. Regardless, Le Guin is an institution on par with Octavia Butler (who I also just read for the first time, finally, late last year) and it’s about time to got around to reading something by her. In this case, I would like to shout out to my local book club, for making this book the November choice and pushing me into it.

Genly Ai is a human ambassador to the planet of Winter. His goal is to facilitate Winter’s joining of an intergalactic organization that seems (at least to me) to be like the United Nations of space. However, as with all ambassadorships, he must deal with cultural and physiological differences that threaten to be more powerful than his mission can overcome. And yet, through some incredibly trying circumstances that forge a strong bond of friendship between himself and Estreven, a citizen of Winter who believes in his message of inter-planetary sharing of ideas and technology, Genly may yet achieve his objective.

There is a blurb on the back of this book that compares Le Guin’s world-building and imagination to that of Tolkein’s. And though I think there are enough differences (fantasy versus sci-fi for one, and concerns about comparing a female genius as “approaching” a male genius as a dangerous conceptualization for another) to make this a potentially problematic comparison, I do agree that, as classics in their genres, they can be considered equally impressive as far as development of new worlds and exploration of human traits through recognizable, yet completely foreign, characters. And to that end, I would like to just say, for the record, that I was completely wow-ed by this novel. It’s depth and intensity and complexity were mind-boggling. And even more impressive is the way that Le Guin was able to communicate such foreign-ness as there exists on Winter in a way that is digestible and follow-able and philosophically fascinating stands in stark contrast to many similarly “epic” works of fantasy/sci-fi (particularly notable for me, having just finished Black Leopard, Red Wolf by Marlon James and being completely overwhelmed/relieved at the end of it). Although, as with all otherworldly fiction, there is an adjustment period upon starting the novel, as the reader adjusts to the new vocabulary and context of the story, this novel quickly took on a pace and movement that pulled me right along with it. As it’s written from the POV of an ambassador, it’s very much like an anthropological and ethnological study of a people, which was both incredibly interesting and at times, to be honest/fair in this review, a bit dry. However, once the relationship between Genly and Estraven is truly revealed to be a central aspect of the story, and my comfort level with the world of Winter and its two competing “countries” at the center of the plot, (around a third of the way through the novel), my investment was solid and assured. And as such, when a key event towards the end occurs suddenly, I was absolutely deeply rocked – it was so unexpected and quick! I don’t actually even think I noticed how invested I was until then. The observational tone of beginning took a slow-roll perspective change and thus, an unrecognized onset of “caring,” if you will, in myself as the reader. And anyways, the way that event quite suddenly happened, and hit me hard, was (as a reader who likes to be affected by what they read) awesome, if tragic.

This is such an interesting “plot” to review, as it seemed to me that while the blurb about the book does describe the bigger picture of the novel, the intimate details, and the page-turning developments, happen more in the life and interactions of Genly and Estraven. This is such a fantastic literary device, as it makes the universal more personal for the reader, as well as allowing for deeper exploration of the way the worlds will interact on a large-scale, as we see how representatives from their separate peoples interact on a smaller level. It definitely demonstrates Le Guin’s mastery of her craft. This is even further evidenced by her ability to develop that relationship while simultaneously showing the reader minutiae of the physical world (the mountains and glaciers and freezing temperatures – everything that sets the environmental scene) and the cultural landscape (in general and in how it differs, sometimes dramatically so, between the countries of Winter).

One other thing that I really want to point out is Le Guin’s explorations of gender. In one of the more subtly innovative ways I’ve ever seen it done, at the very least fictionally, Le Guin deconstructs our binary “duality” of gender. Though Winter’s people, a genderfluid society (both physiologically and psychologically), Le Guin can take an outsider’s view of gender norms and biases and differences. And Genly’s attempts to explain it, and his slow but steadily growing accustomization to Winter’s people’s fluidity, shine a light on how ridiculous many socially-imposed gender norms truly are. It’s undeniably enlightened, yet presented in such a way that it’s completely accessible to the non-philosophically inclined (like myself). This is not uncommon for great fantasy and sci-fi, to challenge socially accepted norms in a way that is perhaps easier to stomach because it’s set in such foreign environs. And yet, its impossible not to extrapolate, at least in thought experiments, the way the concepts could be applied in our own world. And I think it’s something that the great fantasy/sci-fi writers do not get enough credit for. Anyways, long story short, awesome study of gender and sexuality and the way its roles/possibilities play out in societal implications.

I am sorry it took me this long to read Le Guin, because there is no way to ignore what about her writing made it classic. It’s so smooth, escapist and intellectual in equal measure. If you are a fantasy/sci-fi reader and you have yet to give Le Guin a try, don’t be like me, don’t wait any longer, go grab a book my her now!

“The only thing that makes life possible is permanent, intolerable uncertainty: not knowing what comes next.”

“A man wants his virility regarded, a woman wants her femininity appreciated, however indirect and subtle the indications of regard and appreciation. On Winter they will not exist. One is respected and judged only as a human being. It is an appalling experience.”

“‘Tell me, how does the other sex of your race differ from yours?’ […] ‘…the difference is very important. I suppose the most important thing, the heaviest single factor in one’s life, is whether one’s born male or female. In most societies, it determines one’s expectations, activities, outlook, ethics, manners – almost everything. Vocabulary. Semiotic usages. Clothing. Even food. […] It’s extremely hard to separate the innate differences from the learned ones.’”

“In the end when we are done, the sun will devour itself and shadow will eat light, and there will be nothing left but the ice and the darkness.” (This is from the Orgota Creation Myth, which was one of my favorite little sections…it had the perfect weird, slightly creepy, beautifully simple, rendered in that mystical-yet-matter-of-fact tone that all similar creation/religious myths have. Plus, there was some really cool symmetry and connection within it. Loved it.)

“And I wondered, not for the first time, what patriotism is, what the love of country truly consists of, how that yearning loyalty that had shaken my friend’s voice arises, and how so real a love can become, too often, so foolish and vile a bigotry. Where does it go wrong?”

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

When life gets stressful and I need reading to be a full-on escape, rather than a stimulating and educating experience, I turn to contemporary romance. It’s perfect. And Christina Lauren is a literary duo that I can always count on to deliver rock solid romantic escapism. This is a backlist title of theirs that I hadn’t had a chance to read yet, and its availability at my local library was the antidote I needed to a couple very tense weeks of work.

Carter and Evie are both Hollywood agents that meet and hit it off right away at a mutual friends Halloween party (they both dress as characters from Harry Potter, be still my nerdy heart). Anyways, they have great chemistry and things look like they’re going great until their two firms merge unexpectedly and they find themselves competing for the same position…under the world’s worst boss. The subsequent combination of steadily growing feelings and workplace sabotage (and even some espionage) lead to a pretty dramatic conclusion.

So, this is one of Christina Lauren’s earlier publications and I think I can tell. Nothing specific that I can name, also I don’t necessarily mean it in a negative way, but the flow is just a bit different than some of their most recent collaborations. I will say that the sex scenes had more awkward language than in some of their other/later books (and also maybe weren’t as prolifically sprinkled throughout…which is a bit sad, though at least the ones they did have were quite steamy). Maybe related, maybe not, it wasn’t my favorite of theirs. Though to be honest, I think I’ll say that forever after reading Love and Other Words, because that book is really almost as good as a contemporary romance can really be, in my opinion. But anyways, I still really enjoyed and got everything I was looking for out of this read. Evie was a great, strong, high-powered female lead – and I loved how realistically her own struggles and second-guessing and partial imposter syndromes were portrayed. I’m not in a any kid of similar high intensity job like hers, but I still recognize and sympathize with many of those feels and seeing them displayed so openly was fantastic to read.

On the other hand, I appreciate Carter’s reality too. He’s a good guy, at base, but just doesn’t understand (isn’t willing to see) many of the workplace inequalities Evie faces that he doesn’t, simply because he’s a man. And honestly, for a while I wanted to strangle him, just like Evie, because of how he acted (or didn’t, in some cases). Yet he showed absolute willingness to learn. And while I wish he wanted that in a greater wish for equality, and not solely on the basis that he was into Evie, I still think the growth is important. Baby steps, I guess? Actually, this was very interesting because this is the first romance I can remember reading where, for part of it, I totally wasn’t rooting for the main couple to get together already. Honestly, for a portion of it, I was pretty anti-Carter for being so willfully blind and complacent. But thankfully Evie saw and was pissed about that too, so I came around to him at the same pace that she did (as Christina Lauren wrote it), and all’s well in the end since I am glad she never compromised her own job, future, or dignity over her feelings for a guy. Really a unique romance experience for me, because the stakes and tension were so much higher/greater than the normal miscommunication and will they/won’t they feels of this genre.

Another aspect of this novel that was a little different that some of the others I’ve read by this duo is the way it ended. There was a really fun little “spy” scene and some real white-collar drama that was unexpected and added a little spice and “outside forces” spectacle to the formula. It was fun and interesting. And though the ending was cheesy and a bit…easy (that rhymed, haha)…that’s why we read romance, right? So, in that respect, I finished this book in the perfect spirit of satisfaction.

Definitely this book met my expectations and I remain sure that, any time I need it, a Christina Lauren book will be there, ready to help take my mind off life’s stresses and fill me with the sexual tension and fuzzy loving feelings that do a world of good in setting me back on a path of positivity!

Y’all, this doesn’t even really need an intro or a description. I just loved this chance to dig deeper into the Wizarding World. There are five total tales included in this collection. We (obviously) get The Tale of the Three Brothers, the important one from the original HP series. And then there are a few others, like Babbity Rabbity, that are also mentioned in the original HP (mainly by Ron, of course, as the only main character who was not muggle-born/raised). But in HP, we only get the titles of the other stories, not the full text, and basically reading this was just incredibly fun. Also, each story has notes and footnotes from Dumbledore, which added an extra element of entertainment and enjoyability. With his characteristic wit and snark, he adds in fun notes about the context(s) of these tales, the role(s) they played in his own life, and other little tidbits about how they have evolved throughout wizarding history. Plus, the little illustrations sprinkled all through were super cute. Just a really short, great reading experience for anyone who wants more HP in their lives.

My birthday is in January. And when my distance book club suggested that I pick the theme for the month, I chose fantasy. We haven’t done that yet, as a group, and it’s definitely my comfort genre. This was the suggestion that won. Though I love fantasy, I had actually never heard of this book. So, even within one of my main genres, book club steps up yet again to spread my gaze! Plus - that cover design is beautiful.

This book is the first in what looks to be a longer series. Set in a world that closely parallels WWI England (or at least that was my interpretation), but with some added magic. For real magic. Our main character, Miles, is a doctor treating returning soldiers (from a war between our setting, Aeland, and neighboring Laneer) in a psych hospital. He is able to see there’s something deeper wrong with them, due to his magical abilities, but he can’t let on. He has to keep the fact that he has magic secret or he’ll be sent to an asylum for witches…because magic is forbidden except for in a few core (read: wealthy and powerful) families. Those families are a life Miles escaped from years ago, but with a greater tragedy on the horizon, he must make a choice between anonymity and solving the mystery and protecting his country.

This book was a really entertaining mix of alternate universe, magic and mystery. Right from the beginning we are thrown into the thick of things, with an accusation of murder and cover-up, the secrets Miles is clearly keeping, the real reason returning veterans are killing themselves and their families, and what the real story is behind the witches asylums and the powerful families in Aeland. It’s a lot to try and figure out at once, but it is doable to the extent that the author provides the answers. But I felt like, more than once, inferences/connections were made or intuitive leaps occurred that we, the readers, just didn’t have enough background or explanation for. As the story progressed, some of the information is revealed, but, to be honest, sometimes it isn’t. There were a number of situations or descriptions that I felt really lacked the depth of development the story needed and deserved. I feel like I never got a full explanation for aether and how it was used…and though the ending explained kind of how they got it, there was still a lot about it that seemed unclarified. I felt similarly about the magic system and the way it was used – there was singing and linking and secondaries’ parlor tricks and I just never felt like I held a clear picture of it all in my head. I think it all relied too much on parallels with real history and assumptions of what the reader might know from reading other magic systems/theories and never elucidated enough in its own right…which made the end more confusing than I wanted it to be. Plus, by that point, the single problem we had been dealing grew into two big problems, both revealed in totality right at the end, and with all the jumpiness and sparsity in plot development and world-building it was just too much happening with too little understanding of how and why. Last, from a character front, I could never get a sense of the relationship between Miles and his sister Grace. She took advantage so many times and he forgave so much and then she felt so guilty and then the whole cycle started over and I couldn’t really tell what either of the actual personalities were because they go so lost in their complicated interactions with each other. And, since Grace is really only in the story through her interactions with Miles, that means I never truly got a sense of her. And since she was a main character…that situation really needed work.

There were still a number of things I enjoyed about the book. Small things like bicycle chase scenes and a character that cannot tell lies (which I am a fan of, as a trope, because it allows for such creative manipulation of language when done right) were fun to read. And bigger things, like the Sherlock Holmes/Dr. Watson vibe I got from our main characters, were great too. The clue following, mystery solving, pieces of the story added a lighter feel that really contributed to the fast, easy ambiance of the read. I definitely enjoyed the romance between our protagonists, Miles and Tristan. All the more so because I feel like Holmes and Watson have some serious chemistry that the fandom, of course, never gets to see fulfilled, so having that here was satisfying. Their connection was full of tension from the start. I liked the steam between them and all the little moments leading up to the culmination. But I felt like where it ended, the very end, was too soon/too perfect/too easy and that bothered me. Which was a frustrating place to leave it. Last, the attention paid to an important issue, that of mental health needs in returning soldiers, that has been and still is, completely overlooked as a critical health need, was fantastic. The way it’s dismissed and disbelieved as a “real” problem is terrible and, though the symbolism and metaphors for it here were anything but subtle, it’s an important topic, so I appreciated its centrality to the story. It makes me feel like the song Zombie, by The Cranberries, should be the official song of this book. And, in case you want to know a random fact about me, I love that song (the original and the recent cover by Bad Wolves).

Overall, I did enjoy the time I spent reading this. There was a lot going on and the pacing was handled fantastically, so the story never dragged. The issues of plot development and character consistency that bothered me are, probably, enough to not make me want to read the next books that come out. But I also cannot say that I regret the time spent reading this one. I just wasn’t caught up in it enough to care what happens next.

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

I’ve wanted to read this one for a while now – it’s been on my TBR cart for almost a year. And it was my suggestion for my distance book club this month, in honor of Native American Heritage Month, and it won the popular vote. So woohoo!

After a Great Flood and Energy Wars, the landscape of the United States is decimated. But Dinétah, what used to be the Navajo Reservation, is completely reborn. Walls have sprung up around its borders and within the gods, heroes and monsters of legend roam the land again. Maggie has spent years “apprenticed” to one of those heroes, learning from him how to hunt and slay monsters. But when he leaves her suddenly and Maggie uncovers evidence of a monster worse than any she’s faced so far, she must reluctantly team up with Kai, whose clan powers for healing complement her own for violence. And together, they set out to find the truth behind the killings, a truth that will also force Maggie to confront the traumas of her past.

This book drops us right into the action, with some violent and gory opening scenes. And then it basically never lets up. The combination of short chapters and constant discoveries/confrontations kept me turning pages and on the edge of my seat from beginning to end. A really well-paced and fast-to-read fantasy. That opening also sets the scene for the bleak and sort of depressing post-apocalyptic feel that was exactly right for the setting and situation. Relatedly, that ambience given to us with the world-building really matches Maggie’s personality and inner struggles as well. She is tough, strong and intense – she’s had to be to survive what life has thrown at her. And in some ways it’s been important and necessary. But in other ways, her view of herself, the “evil” she sees in her own violence and clan powers, has caused her to put up tons of barriers between herself and anyone who might care for her (or, in her mind, get too close). Also, as with many similar psychological outlooks, we see the dependence she developed on a single person as a hindrance to her personal growth and it ends up becoming a trauma that she has to face down/overcome. That piece of this story is heart-wrenchingly honest and very well portrayed – it’s a great “monsters on the outside vs monsters within” parallel/metaphor situation.

And now would be a good time to note that I really liked the “romance” between Maggie and Kai. It is well-written and developed to bring Maggie our of her self-induced isolation, Kai helps her pull down some of those walls she’s put up between herself and others, but at a pace and in a way that seems believable. Maggie keeps all her sharp edges and none of the “changes” come fast or easy (or consistently), which comes across authentically and makes her small movements/shifts, when they do happen, more compelling. And I loved the way Maggie and Kai’s story ends. I mean, it was sudden and harsh and there’s no for-sure redemption (at least not until, hopefully, book two), but I also like how deep that meant their relationship needed to be and I was into the slower-burn, not rushed, way it played out. Overall, this was just one of my favorite endings that I’ve read in a long time – left me wanting more but in a satisfying way (especially regarding Maggie’s internal evolution).

The one other thing I loved about this book was the Navajo mythology that is the base for the post-apocalyptic setting, as well as the “magic” systems. Reading about the monsters and heroes of Navajo folklore, like Maggie’s “teacher” Neizghání and the trickster Coyote, Ma’ii, to name two of the major ones. Also, the way that clan powers manifest (what brings them out) and how they are determined by one’s clan relations. It was just really fascinating and interesting. And it’s the first own voices novel of it’s kind that I’ve read (similar to the native/first nations folklore that I read about for the first time earlier this year in Gods of Jade and Shadow) and I’m really loving this little fictional/fantasy trend and hope it continues, because I want more! The only thing I have to complain about here is that at the end, when the full “story” comes out (no spoilers, I promise), I was not fully clear on what Coyote’s actual motivations were for his actions. I mean, I know he’s a trickster, but it seemed more than that, and I couldn’t quite tease it out.

One last point, one of my favorite things about most of the Native American/First Nations fantasy/speculative fiction that I’ve read has been the focus on nature. It seems like a a fairly obvious focal point, knowing the importance of plants/animals/nature in their traditions and folklore (and I don’t know a lot, to be clear). But I love the way that that reverence of nature remains central, often in the form of explorations of what could/will happen due to global warming and general human destruction of the Earth we live on. Both here and in Future Home of the Living God, I enjoyed those messages of reaping what we are sowing on that front.

This is definitely a book I would recommend to fantasy lovers, as well as anyone looking for a great Native American own voice novel. I learned a lot and enjoyed doing so, all while being totally entertained and not wanting to step away from all the fantastic action (though I do want to warn that there is quite a bit of violence/gore of various kinds – it never felt gratuitous, but it was ever-present in a reasonable way considering the circumstances).

“This wasn’t our end. This was or rebirth. […] It was beautiful. It was ours. And we were safe. Safe
from the outside world, at least. But sometimes the worst monsters are the ones within.”

“And I am left alone to hunt the monsters by myself, both the visible kind that steal away little girls to eat their flesh, and the invisible kind that live under the skin, eating at the little girl from inside.”

“‘Some people believe you destroy your enemies by making them your friends.’”

I called my grandmother to wish her a happy birthday a few weeks ago and we, of course, got to talking about books. My grandmother and I have always bonded over words and books. I used to stay with her and my grandpa over the summer for a few days just me (a huge treat when you have two brothers, let me tell you) and I always packed lots of books because, after spending all day crafting, we’d always sit together and read on the couch before bed. And to this day we share that same love of books, always touching base on recent reads when we talk. Although we have very different reading tastes, the shared love is what’s important. Anyways, this was one of the books my grandmother mentioned having just read and she recommended I try it, because she thought it was really good and also had a touch of the supernatural, which is something I really love. Naturally, I got it from the library the very next day.

When Anthony Peardew, an elderly author who has sent years collecting and cataloguing lost items after losing a precious memory of his years-dead fiancée, brings in Laura to clean and care for his home, he has a secret goal. Anthony knows the end of his life is near and he plans to leave Laura all his earthly possessions, including his collection of lost items, on the condition that she work to return as many of them as possible to their original owners. Laura, recovering from a bad relationship and divorce, is unsure about the task, but decides to do her best with it, to honor her relationship with the sweet Anthony. Along with Anthony’s, now her, neighbor Sunshine and the gardener. Freddy, Laura sets out to follow his directives. And ends up on a course that will intersect with Eunice, who has both a lost and a found item that will “complete” Anthony’s quest, as Eunice’s story comes to a close and Laura’s finally starts to open back up.

This was a very sweet story. It is one of those books with two different plots and sets of characters that get introduced simultaneously, and both develop separately over the course of the novel. And though you know that at some point they are going to intersect, I have to be honest, it took me longer than I expected to figure out how it would actually happen (which was nice, actually, because it kept my interest higher that way). I personally preferred the story from the “past,” if you will, that follows Eunice and her relationship with her friend, Bomber, though I would think that’s probably the minority (similar to the way I liked the focus on the older couple perspective in The Notebook, but the clear primary story is the younger couple’s.) I struggled a little bit with my feelings for the present-day story, focusing on Laura – there were a number of things that bothered me about it, but the main issue is that I wasn’t a fan of Laura’s character and therefore struggled to care for her story. This is particularly of note for the way she interacted with Sunshine, who I believe it was mentioned has Down Syndrome. Though to be fair, maybe it’s less Laura’s treatment of Sunshine than the author’s treatment of her, which was sort of as the “idiot savant” typecast. It just rang a little…uncomfortable…for me. To be honest, I am sort of put off that the publisher felt like the portrayal was ok. This personal reaction, unfortunately, spilled over into the rest of that storyline, which, sadly, included the supernatural elements that my grandmother had called out as something I might like. And I think I would have, if it wasn’t so closely tied to Sunshine being the one who could “sense” things from the lost objects. (Really, I think the story could have been told just as emotionally and effectively, perhaps even more so, without the inclusion of that supernatural element. I see the effect the author was going for, and it was generally enchanting, but weirdly executed and overall mostly superfluous.)

There were a few other things about the book, despite my inability to connect with Laura and my iffy feelings about the way Sunshine was written, that I did enjoy. First, going back to Eunice and Bomber’s timeline, I thought the way aging parents, and then one’s own aging, were handled very tenderly. Alzheimer’s is a terrifying disease and Hogan really wrote it with a quiet understanding and suffering that was heart-breaking to read. I also felt like the feelings Eunice and Bomber had for each other, the relationship they carefully tended and shared, was equally tender and heart-breaking. And that was what really made me care about the ending when Eunice and Laura finally overlap. Also, my absolute favorite sections were the little stories/snippets that Anthony Peardew write that were sprinkled throughout the novel, in which he imagines the stories behind each of the lost objects that he brings home and catalogues. I really wish we had gotten more of those.

Overall, there were some very poignant parts to this novel, but I have to say that it just wasn’t for me. I am so glad that it was one my grandmother loved and that we get to share this reading and reflective experience though! People don’t have to like the same books in order for books to bring them together and that’s one of the things I love most about reading. Also, as far as this book in particular goes, I have to say that it reminded me a lot, in overall feeling and vibe, of A Man Called Ove, and if you enjoyed that book more than I did (there’s another one I have an unpopular “meh” opinion about), I would think you might want to try this one too.

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

I picked up this collection of poetry in honor of Native American Heritage Month. There are so many ways to read diversely, and I try to vary them, but it’s difficult. So using these “official” recognition months as a guide throughout the year is very helpful for me. Anyways, I was looking from something by Harjo to read, because I have heard her work is amazing but haven’t yet read any. When I checked my closest library, this was the only available collection, so this is the one I picked up. To be honest, I have no idea where in Harjo’s body of work this publication falls, and I actually liked it that way. I don’t want to be influenced by knowing that this is “early” work or the “peak” of her writing, or whatever. I didn’t read any reviews of this collection or anything like that before picking it up, and I’m glad I went in with that blank slate/open mind starting point. I do not know much about poetry, I don’t read it often, and therefore I feel like my opinions and reactions could easily be influenced by more “experienced” readers. At least, more so than I would be influenced by reviews for any given novel. So, here are my un-filtered and completely un-manipulated thoughts.

To start, my overall impression is that Harjo has a keen understanding of words and how to wield them sharply and effectively. It was clear that each line was carefully phrased and crafted to deliver exactly the message she intended, with precision and force. I also thought the way she speaks about nature, praises and is in awe of it, was gorgeous. That aspect, the reverence of it, was one of my favorite things about this collection. The other two themes that were most clear to me throughout were that of jazz/blues and the importance of music in Harjo’s life and emotional being, as well as a deeply felt intergenerational trauma from the years of mistreatment her people faced at the hands of the US government and its citizens. This collection is haunting and affecting in its remembrance of that violent history and its repercussions today, in an unapologetically clear (and often deservedly harsh) way. However, the beauty of her language is never sacrificed in favor of that harshness. As I said her meticulous word choices and delivery are focal. As to the music theme, if there’s something I know less about than poetry, it’s jazz/blues. So, I feel like I can’t comment overly much on the thematic role this played in the novel or how it fit with the other themes or how one should read the pieces titled “songs” as opposed to the rest. But what I can say is that they fit the flow of the collection, and for me, that’s good enough.

I do have to say that my individual comprehension of the meaning behind some of Harjo’s poems varied. In some cases, I felt like I really did “get” what she was communicating, and how. In some cases, I think I at least got the gist, the general feeling, which I counted as a win. And in some cases, I think I totally missed everything. I’m sure I’m not alone in this, but that’s also part of the reason that I don’t read a lot of poetry. I know that there were a number of poems that just went completely over my head. And that’s an intimidating feeling, one that I don’t really relish, nor do I often feel that way about fiction (which is why I gravitate that way). Perhaps it doesn’t matter, perhaps getting the gist is enough, perhaps practice (e.g. reading more poetry) would address that issue…regardless, it’s not an easy feeling, that intellectual inferiority, to handle as a reader. It detached me (at times) from the overall collection, which was too bad, because the pieces I did feel/follow really hit meaningfully and I hated when that connection was partially lost. And I know that feeling of inferiority is my own issue, not a reflection on Harjo or anything she should do differently – I’m just noting it for anyone else who feels a bit intimidated by legitimate literary poetry. One other note here: alternating with the poems were little snippets of reflection, stories and thoughts that added perspective and truth. I personally really liked these fragments. I highlighted a number of them and liked some of them even better than the more traditional poems.

All in all, this was a moving collection, exactly what I was looking for/needed to honor Native American Heritage, both during this month and always. I appreciate Harjo sharing these feelings and experiences and insights with readers – you can feel her own emotions deeply throughout, and that cannot be easy to communicate with unseen masses. I finished reading with deep appreciation of Harjo’s skill as a writer and messenger.

Some of the lines that I found most affecting:

“A spark of kindness made a light. / The light made an opening in the darkness. / Everyone worked together to make a ladder.”

“Each human is a complex, contradictory story. Some stories within us have been unfolding for years, others are trembling with fresh life as they peek above the horizon. Each is a zigzag of emotional design and ancestral architecture. All the stories in the earth’s mind are connected.”

“The spirit of the tundra stands with us, and we collect / sunlight together, / We are refreshed by small winds.”

“Every word that’s ever said tries to find a way to live.”

“Don’t forget: hold somebody’s hand through the dark.”

“One side of me speaks the sacred language of fire / The other part understands in broken heart. / My mind can’t make up its crazy mind, / When it’s burdened by storm clouds of desire.”

“Do not feed the monsters. Some are wandering thought forms, looking for a place to set up house. Some are sent to you deliberately. They come from arrows of gossip, jealousy or envy – and inadvertently from thoughtlessness. They feed on your attention, and feast on your fear.”

“In one house lives the sun, moon, and stars. Within that house is another house of sun, moon, and stars. – And the another, and another. – There is no end to the imagination.”

“This poem is a blessing for those I have left behind / And for that which I can never leave behind–”

“The famished spirit eats fire, poetry, and pain; it only wants / love.”

My favorite full poems (with pull quotes):

“The First Day Without a Mother”
“Maybe I have turned to salt. It turns blue, like the spirits / who have already / Started to call me home, up over the last earthy hill broken / through with starts of blue flowers that heal the wounded / heart.”

“Suicide Watch”
"We will always become those we have ever judged or condemned.”

“Conflict Resolution of Holy Beings”
(This, the titular piece, was transcendent.)
“You cannot legislate music to lockstep nor can you legislate / the spirit of the music to stop at political boundaries – / –Or poetry, or art, or anything that is of value or matters in / this world, and the next worlds.”

“The Last World of Fire and Trash” (song)
“I turned my cheek as my head parted through a curtain of / truth / and erupted from the spirit world to this gambling place– / So I send prayers skyward on smoke.”

“Rushing the Pali”
“There is holy woven / even in the rush / where can be found / mythic roots for example how / this island was formed / from desire and fire / from the bottom of the sea / to the heavens,”

“Speaking Tree”
“Imagine what would it be like to dance close together / In this land of water and knowledge… / To drink deep what is undrinkable.”