Reading Girl Gone Viral was a strange experience for me. I read the book in roughly three hours, but those three hours were stretched across several days, nearly a week. I enjoyed what I read, but I had to force myself to open the book first. My biggest two issues were a) I didn’t entirely understand the world Ahmadi created and b) I just wasn’t invested in these characters or their story.

Regarding the world, I think more explanation was needed. The story is set in California, and the US is the same geographically as it is now. The political system seemed the same. The most significant difference was the technology, as Ahmadi’s world had intricate VR and new social media. The platforms we know today—Instagram, Snapchat, Pinterest—are obsolete, and at one point a character says “It’s not 2020.” That, to me, sounds like we’re talking at least a decade in the future, but who knows? I sure don’t.

One other thing I wanted to address is that in my opinion, too much was crammed into a story that was too short to handle it all. In this book, this single book, we have advanced technology and a tech school, a missing father, political upheaval, fame, romance, and moral dilemmas. If this was the first in a series or even if it remained a stand-alone but gained another 100-200 pages, I think it could’ve worked. Instead it felt like Ahmadi was bouncing between plot points like a puck on an air hockey table. I’ll admit, the ending was unexpected, but like everything else, it didn’t seem to get enough page time.

I picked this up because it was similar to Warcross, a book I quite enjoyed. Unfortunately, it wasn’t nearly as enjoyable, and left me feeling vaguely confused and rather unsatisfied. Ahmadi definitely has potential, but science fiction might not be his forte.

Representation

Gloria Chao has done it again. She wrote a cute, fun contemporary about self-discovery, family, and romance that I devoured in only two sittings. I read nearly 70% in a couple of hours and would’ve finished the rest if I hadn’t needed to go to sleep.

Chao is brilliant at writing layered characters and complex relationships, protagonists and couples you can’t help but root for. She perfectly balances humor and emotion, and all of these things combined make for the perfect book for me. I also really appreciate the way Chloe and Drew handled conflict—they took a bit of time for themselves and then talked everything through. I know you can’t always expect such things in YA novels, but it’s refreshing to come across it from time to time.

Also, Chloe and Drew were just adorable. I loved their puns and banter. Couples that banter steal my heart basically every time, and they’re no exception. I could almost feel their chemistry as I read. It was definitely there.

I hope to own a copy of this book soon, and I can see myself rereading it in the future. I highly recommend Rent a Boyfriend, as well as Chao’s previous novels. I look forward to reading more from her, whenever that may be.

Representation

I added Even If We Break to my tbr on impulse because it sounded intriguing. Unfortunately, I only liked three of the five leads, and I wasn’t really invested in the story. Not only am I hardly interested in roleplaying, but it was also quite easy, in my opinion, to guess who the antagonist was. By the time I was halfway done, I had two predictions, and one of them ended up being correct. If I’m being honest, it was disappointing. Said antagonist didn’t have a good reason for any of their actions.

I nearly gave the book two stars, but bumped it up by half because I did end up really liking Ever, Finn, and Maddy. Their friendship was sweet and genuine, and Ever and Finn’s budding romance was super cute.

Ultimately, I’m not sure I’d recommend this, and I’m not sure Nijkamp’s work is my cup of tea. Thrillers really are hit or miss.

Representation

The Never Tilting World was one of my favorite books of 2020, and The Ever Cruel Kingdom will definitely end up on my 2021 favorites list. This duology is undeniably one of my absolute favorites. Chupeco’s writing is lovely, and their ability to craft intricate worlds, complex characters and emotional relationships is incredible. There isn’t a single thing about this book I disliked. Haidee, Odessa, Lan, and Arjun are brilliant. The romances are brilliant. The plot is brilliant. Yes,
there’s a theme here: everything is just brilliant, and that’s not an exaggeration. I also really like the story’s emphasis on family, grief, and forgiveness. Chupeco fit so much into these pages and did so brilliantly. No, I won’t stop using that word. It’s accurate. I’m not sure what else to say. The last few chapters had me terrified, but everything worked out in the end. It was perfect, and I mean it. My heart was so happy reading the epilogue. I’m so happy that I read these books. I’m rambling, but whatever. I’ll be recommending these books for years to come. I absolutely love them!!

Representation

Winterwood is a book that tried to be a mysterious, magical, atmospheric love story, and while it did manage to be mysterious, it fell flat in every other aspect. Spooky woods, a protagonist that doesn’t fit in either in her family or with the other kids in town? Been there,
done that. Ernshaw’s story, unfortunately, doesn’t bring anything new to the table, and it wasn’t even interesting. In fact, for most of the book, I was quite bored, and only pushed through because I didn’t want to DNF my first read of the new year. 

Additionally, the romance really didn’t work for me. Nora and Oliver hardly knew each other, and they were kissing days after they met. It would be different if they actually had chemistry, but they didn’t. Not a single spark. Also, when you’re trying to figure out how the boy you like might’ve been involved in another boy’s death, should you really be kissing him? Come on.

Lastly, I don’t think the ending made much sense. Okay, fine, Nora discovers what kind of magic she has. Good for her. But nothing else fit. Ernshaw clearly prioritized Nora and Oliver’s relationship over everything else, and I was not a fan. Romance should only come before plot in actual romance
novels.

Maybe this book will be someone else’s
cup of tea, but it certainly wasn’t mine. I now also know that Ernshaw’s writing is just not for me. Hopefully I enjoy my next read more.

This is the second book I’ve read by Acevedo, and I’ll happily repeat countless others when I say that she’s an extremely talented writer. I also partially listened to the audiobook, and Acevedo is one of two narrators; I love listening to her narrate her work.

I think I like this one even more than The Poet X. Admittedly, for the first hundred pages or so, I struggled to differentiate between Camino and Yahaira and get invested in their story. But despite my rocky start, I ended up quite invested in both girls and the way their stories intertwined. I don’t think I’ve ever read a book quite like Clap When You Land, in that regard—one that writes sibling relationships in such a unique way, examines family secrets and love and how loss can lead to gain in unexpected ways.

Only when I started reading did I realize that Acevedo based this story off of a real tragedy, the AA587 plane crash in November 2001. That realization intensified the emotions within the pages, even though the novel is in verse. Sometimes such a method means detachment from what you’re reading, but not here. Yet another one of the author’s talents, honestly.

I’m tired (as I write this, it’s 2 a.m.) and I’m not sure how much sense I make, but I did quite enjoy this book. It wasn’t a favorite, but I’d recommend it regardless. I look forward to reading more from Elizabeth Acevedo, hopefully soon.

Representation

I really enjoyed Get a Life, Chloe Brown when I read it a few weeks ago and was excited to dive into this, as I’d heard it was even better. I can confirm that that is correct. Take a Hint, Dani Brown is such a fun read from cover to cover; I sped through it in just a few hours. Hibbert expertly writes complex characters, top notch banter, snarky but loving sisters, and delightfully sweet and passionate romance. I also appreciate that they write books with plot alongside the steamy scenes—I’m new to the romance genre and frankly not interested in all sex all the time. That’s not an issue here.

I can easily say that this is one of the best books I’ve read in 2020, and that it’s a surprise favorite. Even though I openly call myself a hopeless romantic, I didn’t expect to enjoy something like this, that’s so far out of my literary comfort zone. But it had everything I love in contemporary stories, and I’m glad I took a chance. I can’t wait to read the final Brown Sisters book, and I can definitely see myself rereading the first two while I wait.

Representation

Each of Us a Desert was my introduction to Oshiro’s work, and I can definitely see their potential in it. The characters and the world are both well-developed, and they have a very nice writing style, pretty yet simple. I also enjoyed the slow-burn sapphic romance and general queerness of the story.

However, the downfall for me was the extremely slow pacing. I was invested at first but slowly lost interest as the story dragged on, and I considered putting the book down unfinished. There was just barely enough intrigue for me to continue, which is why I took longer than I expected to read it.

Additionally, when I finally reached the end, I found it unsatisfying, and more open than I would’ve liked. Oshiro created something that could’ve been fascinating, but the meandering pace hindered that. I do think that the themes of faith and self-honesty and making your own path were interesting and managed well, though.

The last thing I’ll address is the unapologetic Latinx nature of the novel, something I’ve seen in many YA books, but as I recall, not quite to this extent. The story is full of Spanish poems and phrases and food, written in a way that’s also understandable for those like me with very little knowledge of the language. I did like this element.

While Each of Us a Desert wasn’t my cup of tea, I’d recommend it to those that enjoy slower stories, thematic stories, and unique fantasies. I plan to read Oshiro’s debut, which I will hopefully enjoy more.

Representation

I really enjoyed The Athena Protocol, and was excited to dive into The Shadow Mission. However, I’m sad to say that this was, overall, a disappointing sequel. I liked the character dynamics and the spy vibes, but there wasn’t any of the heart-pounding action that was so prominent in the first book. I sped through that one because the story was intense and I didn’t want to stop reading; I sped through this one simply because it was short and I had nothing better to do. While there were some
intense moments in the end, it was much less satisfying. I wasn’t nearly as invested in Jessie’s story this time around.

Speaking of Jessie, I have one thing to say: give that poor girl a girlfriend. She keeps getting seriously let down in the romance department. And while on the subject of romance, on a somewhat similar note, I’d like to say that I’m especially disappointed in the queer representation here. Jessie is sapphic, very casual, totally fine. But of the other two notable queer characters—and they were the only others, as far as I’m aware—one was an antagonist and the other died. Excuse me, Ms. Sarif, are you serious? That’s the best you, a queer woman, can do in the year 2020? Personally, I found this to be a huge let-down.

I’m not sure what else to say. I don’t know if we’ll be getting another book, though the ending left that possibility open. Honestly, if we do get a third, I’m not sure I’ll pick it up.

Representation

I think House of Salt and Sorrows might be my most unexpected favorite read of 2020.

When I was younger, I loved the Barbie in the 12 Dancing Princesses movie. My nostalgic feelings for that movie combined with the realization that I’d never read a retelling of 12 Dancing Princesses led to me picking up this book, which I figured would be a bit spooky. I didn’t realize how much it would creep me out until I was too invested in the story to stop reading, and decided I’d only read during the day with the lights on, maybe music in the background. Not everyone will find this scary, but I did.

Craig put so much into so few pages, and did a phenomenal job of it. The story is set on a small set of islands, but the world beyond is immense, the mythology intricate. There are numerous characters—the twelve sisters and their father, their stepmother, friends and lovers and household staff and island citizens—but Craig developed all of them well enough to make it easy for me to differentiate between them.

I really enjoyed the dynamics between the sisters. Annaleigh was a bit plain, I won’t lie, but she was still compelling in a way I’m not sure I can explain. I liked all of the sisters still living at the time of the story, and given the way they were written, I’m sure I would’ve loved the dead ones if I’d been able to get
to know them. I loved little Verity. 10 out of 10, would hug, possibly my favorite Thaumas sibling. (I almost always love the baby beans. Not sure why.)

While on the subject of character dynamics, I enjoyed the sisters’ interactions with Hanna and her son Fisher. Though the former was somewhat swept aside as the story progressed, seeing her step in as a maternal figure after their mother died was quite sweet. She was technically their nurse—maybe their maid, I can’t recall which—but she cared for all of the girls as if they were hers, and I loved to see it. Her son Fisher was a friend to the whole family, dancing with the sisters at their parties when no one else would. He was just so sweet. Pretty sure sweetness is genetic in this case. Like mother, like son, or whatever the saying is.

You know who else was really sweet? The love interest Cassius. I won’t say anything about whether or not he’s trustworthy, because that would ruin the fun, but I loved his relationship with Annaleigh. Absolutely loved it. I ship it so much, I can’t even express. They! Are! Adorable!

Lastly, I want to address how freaking WILD this book’s story is. I marathoned 75% of the book this afternoon in a matter of hours. The horror elements were a surprise, but even more surprising was the way the second half of the novel resembled a psychological thriller. I had no idea what to expect or who to trust or even who actually existed. I can’t specify due to spoilers, but once again, it was WILD. Please read this.

I enjoyed House of Salt and Sorrows way more than I ever thought I would. I look forward to buying my own copy, recommending this to everyone, and eventually reading Craig’s next release.