Though a sequel wasn't originally in the cards for The Marrow Thieves, Dimaline made Hunting by Stars just as moving, challenging, heartbreaking, and hopeful. It had been a few years since I read the first book, but it all came back quickly as I started to get into the meat of the story. Dystopia is a hard genre for me, mainly because of the dark injustices that come with these type of stories, but I think the amount of determination and light that balance with the pain makes this series bearable. With every disturbing scene, every brutal moment, there is an act or thought of love that counteracts it. The persistence of love and loyalty in the face of adversity and dehumanization makes this such a strong story and makes the characters that more meaningful.

The horror of the schools and the threats facing French and his family are steeped in historic truth, making them all the more terrifying. There are moments in this book that are genuinely disturbing where you see the absolute worst in humanity and the lengths people are willing to go to protect their own. It goes a little harder than the last book, since we see more into how the schools are run as well as dangers that lurk beyond familiar borders. Despite all the things French and his family overcome, there never seems to be any shortage of adversaries which, while depressing, seems to hit close to home. 

With this continuation, I wonder if there would be a third book to tie up loose ends and give a few last resolutions. It at least ends with hope for future generations and perhaps that is enough for now.

I told myself that I would probably only get around to reading one Stephen King book and for some reason I landed on Carrie. It could be a mix between it being one of his shorter novels along with having seen a bit of the movie to wonder how the original work faired. Well I certainly got my answer.

On the whole, it's a pretty miserable book. A young teen gets bullied, traumatized, and abused at every turn until she finally snaps and unlocks a latent telekinetic power that wrecks havoc on a small town. There's nothing particularly entertaining about this book, nothing engaging from how it was written. This happened to be King's first novel, so it could be the inexperience overshadowing everything, but there were moments I just found to be disgusting, from the skeevy descriptions of teenage girls and the handling of the rape scenes. 

The constant cutting in with various book passages, testimonials, and newspaper reports didn't really add anything to the story only to stop it dead for a few pages every now and then. There had to be a better way to naturally integrate the information without feeling like it's taking away from the main action.

Ultimately, it doesn't really read as a horror, more like a tragedy. I just didn't vibe with how the story constantly beats down on Carrie only for her die in the end. 

Such a cute, cozy, heartwarming follow up to an already charming adventure. It's a tale so gently told through visuals that capture the transformative nature of a pastoral setting. Garlic's anxiety surrounding the upcoming changes in her life will definitely resonate for those readers just starting to face big changes of their own, showing the natural fear and also slight excitement that comes with the experience. The comic really wrapped up the story in a sweet way that feels like the best way to end things.

A big thank you to NetGalley and W. W. Norton & Company for an ARC of this book in exchange for an honest review.

The publishing trend of adult picture books appears to be on the rise and Werewolf at Dusk makes an excellent case for why it should continue. The stories contained here, all dealing with some sort of internal dread, are emotionally impactful and filled with illustrations that linger in the mind. Many of the locations, especially in the second story, give off a haunted quality with their deep colors and surreal imagery. Each of the stories feel particularly dreamlike, easily veering off into nightmare territory at certain points.

Fear seems to be a large thread that connects the stories, whether that be the fear of a weakening body, of losing a sense of reality, or starting to see the dark paths a society is about tread down. Though uncomfortable at times, the depiction of these fears lead to a connection through the parts of the human experience we all must eventually face. They feel like imparted wisdoms or cautionary tales from those who have lived enough life to know them well.

One day I hope that the apparent need to constantly reference Harry Potter in middle grade and YA contemporary fantasies fades away quickly and relentlessly. Come on y'all, I think we're ready to move on as a society.

That petty gripe aside, Lobizona stands as a strong introduction to a magical world on the brink of rebellion. The concepts feel fresh and original, with the need for individual freedoms and a challenging of gender norms/expectations at the forefront of the conflict. Manu's struggle to fit into this world of brujas and lobizones as someone whose very existence is a crime parallels that of her living undocumented in America. It certainly gives off a "danger on all sides" weight as well as layers a very real experience and representation onto the more fantastical ones. 

While the ideas and overall groundwork of the book was engaging, there were moments in the writing that sort of lost me. There was a sort of uneven pacing at times, with certain events speeding past or grinding to a standstill. The writing style was also a bit hit or miss with me, but I can't deny that Manu does have a strong voice at times.

I think I'm more interested in seeing the fallout of the events of this book, of how Manu and her friends will try to change a society built on century old customs and beliefs. I love a good "upset the status quo" story featuring a ragtag found family willing to do whatever it takes to live as themselves. Here's hoping the sequel will expand more on this magical world as they try to reshape it for the better.

So just going into this, my rating mostly reflects my personal enjoyment/experience reading this book. It's not indicative of the book's quality or the validity of the authors' experiences. 

That being said, I didn't really find myself connecting to this book. As an asexual, nonbinary person, I was hoping to find something that would give a little validation, but there wasn't a piece that fuly clicked with me. It didn't really help that the first chapter covers sex and relationships, which are completely out of my depth. The section on nonbinary experiences consists of a single chapter that merely explains binaries and doesn't exactly get too personal. The essays dealing with navigating friend and family relationships did hit home a few times, but I still found myself skimming past a few.

The closest piece that came to resonating with me was "2018 Love" in which the author ends the essay by saying that the term "self love" is a privilege given to those with the resources and environment that encourage self discovery and that "self-like" is more realistic. Gotta say, it does seem more attainable as like is the natural precursor to love.

While I didn't find myself much in these pages, I know there are several people that will. 

Having some history as a suburban Chicagonite, I was so taken in by this comic's setting. It depicts some of the more lower key areas of the city like Andersonville, populated by the Swedish and elder gays, as well as some city highlights like Navy Pier and the Adler Planetarium. I know it's a common experience, but it was nice to see such familiar sites in a comic I emotionally resonated with. 

It's a story about grief, trauma, finding love, losing love, finding meaning, etc. Leon and Cody have such meaningful interactions with each other as they navigate through the trials of their lives, or in Cody's case, afterlife. The Chicago punk scene is also an interest of mine so of course that only further endeared Cody to me. The mystery surrounding his death carries throughout the story, but I think it becomes a little too obvious to really throw you for a loop. But everything else surrounding that plot point had more weight to it, so I wasn't too pulled out of it. 

It does seem a bit aimless at times, but I don't mind stories where you just get to see people live: go to the store, do a job, grow a bit. It's the specifics that make this a story worth reading. 

Also, the use of mostly blues does a lot of give the backgrounds a spectral, but relaxed feel. I really liked the art style, which lead to some great instances of characterization. 

I've never really been a fan of Winnie the Pooh, though that may be more to due with the Disney incarnation rather than the original stories. Even as a child I found the characters to be overly saccharine and the stories a tad dull and slow. But the Milne stories have such a clever way of writing about them that didn't really translate to that particular adaptation. It's tone is so playful, endearing, and calming without being entirely tedious. They're the perfect bedtime stories, little adventures that ease and amble their way into your imagination.

Weird how I actually read a collection of the first two books about seven years ago and had a bit more of a lukewarm reaction to it.  I didn't remember most of the stories, but maybe they just reached me at a better time with this reading. 

Was initially intrigued by the very charming illustrations but unfortunately even at 70 pages the story felt too long-winded for me. Every interaction drags on maybe two pages longer than it should and it isn't written in a way where those 700 pages flow easily. I can't believe I stopped before I got to the real meat of the story, but I just don't think it was worth it.

I was a big fan of the Static cartoon back in the day so this comic hit right in the nostalgia while also working as its own thing. The use of modern issues and social media fit very naturally within the story, something that's harder to pull off than you'd think. Lamar Giles absolutely nails the characterization here, with Virgil being his charismatic self while also stumbling his way through the special kind of teen angst that comes with a bad break up. Richie serves well as the comedic half of the duo and it was nice to see some depth to Raquel. Isadora was starting to wear on me a bit with her entitlement and I was surprised the rest of the team wasn't more put out by her constant stealing. 

There were times where it felt like the story stopped dead for a joke, mostly with Icon's character. It really dragged on and it felt like that sequence really could have been half the length. But other than that there was enough action for it to be exciting and worth the read.

Paris Alleyne also does a fantastic job of bringing these characters to life on the page. The colors especially really popped, lots of purples, deep blues, and blacks. Absolutely perfect for capturing the night life atmosphere.