I usually love Erik Larson’s books, and The Devil in the White City was definitely well-written and packed with fascinating detail…but it didn’t hit quite as hard for me as some of his others. Compared to something like In the Garden of the Beasts, where the stakes are literally WWII and the fate of the world, this one felt a little… lower-key. Designing a fair just doesn’t carry the same weight as surviving the 1930s Germany. 

The H.H. Holmes sections were obviously creepy and compelling at first, but after a while, it was just too much. He’s absolutely disgusting, and at a certain point I honestly didn’t want to read any more about what he did. It stopped being insightful and just felt like piling on the horror. (Not necessarily Larson’s fault, he was just informing the reader; I just personally don’t have a stomach for shit like that).

That said, the stuff about building the fair was really interesting. I loved learning about the people behind it and how much work went into pulling it off. It just didn’t have that same page-turning intensity I’ve come to expect from Larson. Still worth a read, just not my favorite of his.

I can’t believe a book about serial killers and stalking had me cackling like this did at multiple points

I went into the book with only a vague understanding of Buchanan’s role in the lead up to the civil war, but Larson brought the political dysfunction and indecision of those years into sharp focus…. I learned so much about the early days of this divide. 

Buchanan’s inability (or unwillingness) to take decisive action as the nation edged toward civil war was both frustrating and illuminating to read about. I had no idea just how paralyzed his administration was, or how his inaction contributed to the growing divide. Larson has a gift for making complex historical events feel vivid and immediate, and this book really helped connect the dots for me between the end of one presidency and the explosive beginning of Lincoln’s.

The pacing dragged a bit in parts, and at times the detail felt overwhelming, which is why this isn’t a full five-star read for me. But overall, it’s an incredibly informative and well-crafted book that gave me a much deeper understanding of a moment in American history I didn’t know enough about.

I absolutely loved this one! It’s got all the magic and mystery you’d want from a fantasy novel, but what really stuck with me was the friendships the author weaves. They’re not perfect or easy, and that’s exactly what makes them so good. The characters argue, grow apart, come back together, and actually feel like real people trying their best to stay connected while everything around them is falling apart. There’s such a strong emotional core to this book. The friendships are messy and complicated, but full of love and loyalty too, everything about them felt so real despite the magic surrounding them. 

If you grew up loving Harry Potter but want something that digs a little deeper into relationships and growing up, this is a great pick. It’s still got that sense of wonder, but with more emotional weight and character depth (and without a terf author)

In the Garden of Beasts reads more like a novel than a history book, which is exactly what makes it so engaging. Larson brings 1930s Berlin to life in all its eerie, glamorous, and terrifying detail, following U.S. Ambassador William Dodd and his daughter Martha as they navigate the rise of Nazi Germany.

Martha, in particular, is fascinating. She’s bold, curious, and sometimes reckless, drawn in by the excitement of Berlin and the powerful people around her. Her flirtations with high-ranking Nazis make for some of the book’s most compelling and unsettling moments. She’s not always likable, but she’s never boring, and through her, Larson shows just how easy it is to get swept up in something truly dangerous, and not recognize it until you’re in deeper than you expected. 

What really stuck with me, though, was how familiar some of it felt. The way people downplayed the threat, made excuses, hoped it would all blow over… it’s hard not to see the parallels to what’s happening in parts of America right now. It’s a quiet kind of horror, realizing how history can repeat itself when no one takes the warning signs seriously.

If you’re into history that feels real and urgent, this is definitely worth a read.

Thunderstruck is a good read, especially if you’re into true crime. The story kicks off strong with the murder mystery, Larson really knows how to start a book with a bang. The true crime aspect is definitely the best part of this book. In the moments I felt myself slowing from the other parts, I’d remind myself I wanted to know what was going on in this particular part of the book. 

That said, the sections about Marconi and the development of wireless technology dragged a bit for me. While it’s clear Larson did a ton of research, some of those parts got a little too detailed and slowed the story down. I found myself wanting to get back to the characters and the drama instead of the technical stuff (I just am not good at science lol, the wave parts really went right over my head).

Things picked up whenever the focus shifted to the ship chase, the passengers, and the personal relationships!Those moments had great pacing and really pulled me back in. Larson does a great job making history feel human, especially when he’s showing how people’s lives intersected with the bigger historical events.

Overall, it’s an interesting read with a lot of strong moments, but it isn’t quite as consistently gripping as some of Larson’s other books. Still worth checking out if you like a good mix of crime and history. 

I usually love Emily Henry’s books, so I went into Great Big Beautiful Life with high hopes. Her writing is still sharp and funny, and the setting is great but the romance just didn’t do it for me this time.

The two main characters were fine on their own, but their connection didn’t feel as real or compelling as the couples in her other books. I kept waiting for that spark or emotional moment that would pull me in, but it never really came. It felt a little flat, like their relationship was more told than shown.

It’s not a bad book at all…there are still some lovely moments and great side characters (particularly Margret)…but if you’re reading it for the romance, it might leave you wanting more.

Hanif Abdurraqib has such a unique way of blending personal stories with pop culture in all his books. Here he uses basketball, specifically his love for the game and the heartbreak of being a lifelong fan, as a way to explore bigger themes like grief, hope, and belief. Intermixed is discussions on police violence and the heartbreak of missing home. 

This book is perhaps the most poetic of his, and extremely reflective of his own life. Sometimes it wanders a bit, but I didn’t mind; it felt like listening to a friend talk about something they are passionate about, even when it hurts.

If you’ve ever been too emotionally invested in a team or just love thoughtful, lyrical writing, this one’s worth picking up.

Isaac’s Storm by Erik Larson is an interesting read, but definitely not his most accessible. While Larson usually has a knack for turning history into gripping narrative, this one gets a little weighed down by all the science. The detailed explanations of meteorology, though clearly well researched, can feel pretty dry, and at times, slow the story down.

What Isaac’s Storm does do exceptionally well is highlight the political undercurrents within the U.S. Weather Bureau at the turn of the 20th century. The most compelling aspect of the book isn’t the storm itself, but the internal resistance to using terms like “hurricane.” Officials feared not only being wrong, but being shown up by Cuban meteorologists, who had a more accurate understanding of tropical storms. This hesitancy contributed to tragic consequences—and offers a striking reminder of how ego, nationalism, and bureaucracy can interfere with science and public safety.

By the end, the book leaves you thinking less about weather patterns and more about how even something as seemingly objective as a weather report is subject to politics. In Isaac’s Storm, Larson makes one thing clear: everything is political, including the weather.