You need to sign in or sign up before continuing.
Take a photo of a barcode or cover
After seeing it on so many great listicles of diverse books, I jumped at the chance to read SAINTS AND MISFITS when I saw my local library had a copy. Overall, the book was a treat.
SAINTS AND MISFITS felt like living through snapshots of a Muslim American girl's high school life. As a person unfamiliar with Islam, I learned a lot about day-to-day faithful family life and mosque community. The theme of saints, misfits, and monsters was an interesting thread to follow, and I liked how the concept started out as simple and then became more and more complicated. Cyberbullying, sexual assault, and "weakness of character" were also explored, but not as much as I would've liked. Janna's character was masterfully done, how she lost and gained my sympathy by turns. Sometimes I wanted to shake her. Most of the time I wanted to hug her and help her battle monsters.
I'm unsure if there was a problem with the writing or just me, but I found myself frequently lost in the text and having to re-read sections, unsure how the characters moved or arrived places. As I went through the book, this missed plot beat kept happening more than normal.
However! All the awesomeness contained in the book outweighed my annoyance, and I still look forward to S.K. Ali's next novel. Cross my fingers that it's out soon!
SAINTS AND MISFITS felt like living through snapshots of a Muslim American girl's high school life. As a person unfamiliar with Islam, I learned a lot about day-to-day faithful family life and mosque community. The theme of saints, misfits, and monsters was an interesting thread to follow, and I liked how the concept started out as simple and then became more and more complicated. Cyberbullying, sexual assault, and "weakness of character" were also explored, but not as much as I would've liked. Janna's character was masterfully done, how she lost and gained my sympathy by turns. Sometimes I wanted to shake her. Most of the time I wanted to hug her and help her battle monsters.
I'm unsure if there was a problem with the writing or just me, but I found myself frequently lost in the text and having to re-read sections, unsure how the characters moved or arrived places. As I went through the book, this missed plot beat kept happening more than normal.
However! All the awesomeness contained in the book outweighed my annoyance, and I still look forward to S.K. Ali's next novel. Cross my fingers that it's out soon!
As other reviews have noted, this mystery is haphazard and stretched beyond rational understanding. At most the story deserves 2 stars, BUT I was so impressed in how many different, random things the author shoed in that I had to award an additional star. Flying lessons, cowboy ranching, oil prospecting, unexpected marriage proposals, revolutionaries, cloud climatology, and run-ins with the FBI would be a hard sell in the best of circumstances. In the confines of a Nancy Drew children's mystery, it's a hopeless, unintentionally hilarious jumble.
The mystery itself was well-written and there was a definite attempt to accurately portray Native Americans, though not as far as calling them Native Americans instead of "Indians." The one-star is a further warning for me not to re-read this because the last chapters use the word "fagot." Granted, it's the original small-bundle-of-wood context, but it got to me after the 50th use. Perils of knowing the history of homophobia, I suppose.
Another year, another Outlander novel; this time The Fiery Cross. The term "novel" is applied very loosely here. This fifth installment in the series feels more like a collection of slice-of-life short fictions set in colonial North Carolina.
The two big overarching arcs are the pursuit of Stephen Bonnet and the plot against Jocasta. One could argue that pre-Revolutionary War jitters and the Regulators count as an arc too, but so much of that is derailed that I didn't. Anyway, with Fraser's Ridge established, Claire, Jaime, Brianna, and Roger are free to go on all sorts of fun adventures like getting properly married (in Brianna & Roger's case), collecting Ridge tenants, solving murder mysteries (complete with Southern Gothic flair), searching for penicillin, performing coolio surgeries, celebrating Hogmanay, attending Jocasta's wedding, fighting the battle of Alamance, bear hunting, and surveying. For reference, the book begins a few days after Drums of Autumn ended, on the last day of the Gathering in October 1770. The Fiery Cross ends October 1772, with burying the Mohawk time traveler and Jaime writing a letter to Ned about Laoghaire's mysterious night time visitor.
All of this is done with Gabaldon's usual panache and trademark chaos generation. The characters set out to do One Thing, but an Unexpected Something interrupts, and now this story is about Something Completely Different. Five books in the series and the poetry of language and absolute adoration of the characters are undiminished. The Fiery Cross is notable in that I think Gabaldon learns the trick of seamlessly switching POV to third person, and she learns how to make the switch truly meaningful. Roger and Jaime's relationship is deepened marvelously, and readers get to witness that by being in their heads. Speaking of Roger, I still don't like him. I will begrudgingly admit that his efforts to improve himself aren't wasted.
The lack of strong, overarching plot in favor of hundreds of subplots will and has disappointed readers, but I didn't mind. Like Gabaldon herself, I'm in love with these characters and want them to go on forever. Once I started thinking of The Fiery Cross as a short fiction collection instead of a novel, I enjoyed it even more. It's 1,000+ pages of pure literary dessert for fans. I look forward to the television adaptation and A Breath of Snow and Ashes already.
The two big overarching arcs are the pursuit of Stephen Bonnet and the plot against Jocasta. One could argue that pre-Revolutionary War jitters and the Regulators count as an arc too, but so much of that is derailed that I didn't. Anyway, with Fraser's Ridge established, Claire, Jaime, Brianna, and Roger are free to go on all sorts of fun adventures like getting properly married (in Brianna & Roger's case), collecting Ridge tenants, solving murder mysteries (complete with Southern Gothic flair), searching for penicillin, performing coolio surgeries, celebrating Hogmanay, attending Jocasta's wedding, fighting the battle of Alamance, bear hunting, and surveying. For reference, the book begins a few days after Drums of Autumn ended, on the last day of the Gathering in October 1770. The Fiery Cross ends October 1772, with burying the Mohawk time traveler and Jaime writing a letter to Ned about Laoghaire's mysterious night time visitor.
All of this is done with Gabaldon's usual panache and trademark chaos generation. The characters set out to do One Thing, but an Unexpected Something interrupts, and now this story is about Something Completely Different. Five books in the series and the poetry of language and absolute adoration of the characters are undiminished. The Fiery Cross is notable in that I think Gabaldon learns the trick of seamlessly switching POV to third person, and she learns how to make the switch truly meaningful. Roger and Jaime's relationship is deepened marvelously, and readers get to witness that by being in their heads. Speaking of Roger, I still don't like him. I will begrudgingly admit that his efforts to improve himself aren't wasted.
The lack of strong, overarching plot in favor of hundreds of subplots will and has disappointed readers, but I didn't mind. Like Gabaldon herself, I'm in love with these characters and want them to go on forever. Once I started thinking of The Fiery Cross as a short fiction collection instead of a novel, I enjoyed it even more. It's 1,000+ pages of pure literary dessert for fans. I look forward to the television adaptation and A Breath of Snow and Ashes already.
I first read The Sherlockian when my personal journey with Holmes was just beginning. My lasting impressions of the book included that (1) it had satisfying dual mysteries, (2) Bram Stoker and Arthur Conan Doyle dress in drag, and (3) it was essentially an homage to Holmes fans everywhere. Years later and listening to the audiobook with my partner, only two of these impressions remain.
Technically The Sherlockian still has two mysteries, but only one of them is satisfying. After writing Holmes' frothy demise, Arthur Conan Doyle ignores Holmes' fan letters that ask the detective to help on real-life cases. That is, until a lesbian suffragette sends him an explosive impetus to get off his duff. With the charismatic, world-savvy Bram Stoker at his side, Doyle does indeed get into drag, vividly imagine himself in a wedding dress, and solve three murders. The lowkey queer vibes are strong. Despite the period typical misogyny and sometimes overly detailed brutalization of women, my partner and I thoroughly enjoyed this turn-of-the-century mystery. That sounds like a large caveat, but those sections are very small and skippable. The audiobook narrator does a fabulous job with everyone's accents.
An avid diariest, Doyle writes this adventure down, but the diary is lost and the contents remain unknown. Fast forwarding to the twenty-first century, Doyle's missing diary is considered the Holy Grail of Sherlockians, with fans devoting their entire academic careers to finding it. One such is Alex Cato, and he claims the impossible: he found the diary. When Alex is garroted with his shoelace before he can present it, a young Sherlockian named Harold and a mysterious journalist named Sarah take up the case to find his murderer and the diary.
Harold's qualification for this role is that he's read lots of books. Seriously. That's...it. It's a lovely fantasy for book nerds that one day the minutia of our fandom will solve a Big Important Thing, but that fantasy is poorly executed here. Pretending he's Holmes and police work hasn't advanced in a century, Harold contaminates crime scenes, destroys historical artifacts, wheedles witnesses, and refuses to manage his own emotions. When he solves the mystery, it's unclear whether he even tells Alex's surviving family or the police. Like Watson before her, Sarah is there to get Harold to talk, but, unlike Watson, she's not developed enough as her own person. More given a dartboard-picked backstory.
Despite the disappointment of the modern era mystery, The Sherlockian is still a love letter to Sherlock Holmes fans past and present. Pages and pages are devoted to Sherlockian culture and Doyle' sections offer insights to his immediate audience. As someone familiar with the community, it made me smile. Since the novel is a thriller, the unhealthily obsessed side of fandom gets a lot of attention. A theme throughout the novel is whether the process of solving a puzzle or the answer to the puzzle is more enjoyable. I couldn't relate to it. That pure serotonin blast and sense of triumph when I solve a problem is obviously best??? If the puzzle itself is what makes happy sparkles explode inside you, then re-arrange your life to be more full of puzzles??? I'm not doing rocket science here. Don't do what Harold or Alex do, because W O W that's not good.
In conclusion, I would give the Doyle & Stoker mystery four stars and the modern mystery one star, so the whole book will receive two stars. I can't say I recommend The Sherlockian to anyone, unless I stumble across someone who really wants to know about Holmes fan culture. But then, you're better off reading a Doyle biography and scrolling through fanfiction on ArchiveOfOurOwn.
Technically The Sherlockian still has two mysteries, but only one of them is satisfying. After writing Holmes' frothy demise, Arthur Conan Doyle ignores Holmes' fan letters that ask the detective to help on real-life cases. That is, until a lesbian suffragette sends him an explosive impetus to get off his duff. With the charismatic, world-savvy Bram Stoker at his side, Doyle does indeed get into drag, vividly imagine himself in a wedding dress, and solve three murders. The lowkey queer vibes are strong. Despite the period typical misogyny and sometimes overly detailed brutalization of women, my partner and I thoroughly enjoyed this turn-of-the-century mystery. That sounds like a large caveat, but those sections are very small and skippable. The audiobook narrator does a fabulous job with everyone's accents.
An avid diariest, Doyle writes this adventure down, but the diary is lost and the contents remain unknown. Fast forwarding to the twenty-first century, Doyle's missing diary is considered the Holy Grail of Sherlockians, with fans devoting their entire academic careers to finding it. One such is Alex Cato, and he claims the impossible: he found the diary. When Alex is garroted with his shoelace before he can present it, a young Sherlockian named Harold and a mysterious journalist named Sarah take up the case to find his murderer and the diary.
Harold's qualification for this role is that he's read lots of books. Seriously. That's...it. It's a lovely fantasy for book nerds that one day the minutia of our fandom will solve a Big Important Thing, but that fantasy is poorly executed here. Pretending he's Holmes and police work hasn't advanced in a century, Harold contaminates crime scenes, destroys historical artifacts, wheedles witnesses, and refuses to manage his own emotions. When he solves the mystery, it's unclear whether he even tells Alex's surviving family or the police. Like Watson before her, Sarah is there to get Harold to talk, but, unlike Watson, she's not developed enough as her own person. More given a dartboard-picked backstory.
Despite the disappointment of the modern era mystery, The Sherlockian is still a love letter to Sherlock Holmes fans past and present. Pages and pages are devoted to Sherlockian culture and Doyle' sections offer insights to his immediate audience. As someone familiar with the community, it made me smile. Since the novel is a thriller, the unhealthily obsessed side of fandom gets a lot of attention. A theme throughout the novel is whether the process of solving a puzzle or the answer to the puzzle is more enjoyable. I couldn't relate to it. That pure serotonin blast and sense of triumph when I solve a problem is obviously best??? If the puzzle itself is what makes happy sparkles explode inside you, then re-arrange your life to be more full of puzzles??? I'm not doing rocket science here. Don't do what Harold or Alex do, because W O W that's not good.
In conclusion, I would give the Doyle & Stoker mystery four stars and the modern mystery one star, so the whole book will receive two stars. I can't say I recommend The Sherlockian to anyone, unless I stumble across someone who really wants to know about Holmes fan culture. But then, you're better off reading a Doyle biography and scrolling through fanfiction on ArchiveOfOurOwn.
.jpg)
My partner and I listened to River of Teeth on audiobook from the library, and it was fantastic from start to finish.
In an alternate history of the 1890s American South, the government has imported hippos as an alternate meat source to feed America. Winslow Houndstooth, a Black British queer man, is the best breeder of hippos around, until his ranch burns down. Left with nothing, Houndstooth assembles the Avengers--I mean, a crack team of fellow gays--I MEAN, the best of the best hippo-riders out there to seek his revenge.
As other reviewers have noted, the diversity of the cast is top-notch. The fat rep and LGBTQ rep are especially well-done. For the first time in a long time, I read (well, listened) to a book that was simply fun. I could tell the author had fun writing it, and her happiness was infectious. If I had one quibble, Gailey heavily relies on implication to fit so much in such a little novella, but it's not always effective. For example, implication added much depth to con artist Archie's character, but the Civil War is only possibly hinted at in an appendix, leaving readers wondering if slavery exists or not.
Overall though, River of Teeth was an absolute delight. I haven't truly given the alternate history genre a thorough investigation, but I had such a rollicking good time with these hippos that I think I'll give it a go.
In an alternate history of the 1890s American South, the government has imported hippos as an alternate meat source to feed America. Winslow Houndstooth, a Black British queer man, is the best breeder of hippos around, until his ranch burns down. Left with nothing, Houndstooth assembles the Avengers--I mean, a crack team of fellow gays--I MEAN, the best of the best hippo-riders out there to seek his revenge.
As other reviewers have noted, the diversity of the cast is top-notch. The fat rep and LGBTQ rep are especially well-done. For the first time in a long time, I read (well, listened) to a book that was simply fun. I could tell the author had fun writing it, and her happiness was infectious. If I had one quibble, Gailey heavily relies on implication to fit so much in such a little novella, but it's not always effective. For example, implication added much depth to con artist Archie's character, but the Civil War is only possibly hinted at in an appendix, leaving readers wondering if slavery exists or not.
Overall though, River of Teeth was an absolute delight. I haven't truly given the alternate history genre a thorough investigation, but I had such a rollicking good time with these hippos that I think I'll give it a go.
