Such a resonating story for librarians and those that have found safe havens in their local libraries. This book does an excellent job of showing young readers the value and importance of libraries within their communities and how they serve people at various levels. Seeing Jamie's growth over the course of the book was so impactful, as she goes from resenting and being embarrassed at having to spend her summer volunteering at the library to finding a new outlook and sense of self because of it. I'm always a sucker for a coming-of-age, summer of reinvention kind of story.

I'm not a fan of books that immediately thrust their characters into danger before we really know them, so the first third of it seemed like I was looking through all these events through a clouded pane of glass. By the halfway point it became more engrossing as we start to see more of the land beyond the border and Mup's burgeoning magical talent. It felt odd that the story didn't focus a lot around Stella, Mup's mother and the apparent heir to the kingdom across the border, who was taken from her tyrannical mother by her aunt long ago. I think I've been conditioned by the standard fantasy tropes and that's why I felt that way, but it kind of contributed to the uneven feeling of the story. Still, Mup was a great main character, full of heart, kindness, and resolve that any kid would love reading about. Will probably take on the sequel just to see what happens next.

Everland is a place for the misfits, for those struggling to find themselves and need a release from the weight of reality and all its complexities. Brody, a bullied teen with a complicated home life, finds an invitation to such a place from Nico, a charismatic art student that shows him all the wonders Everland has to offer. Here, Brody finds somewhere he feels like he belongs, until he's faced with a decision of whether to stay, or leave it forever.

This book totally resonated with me as a defining queer experience. It's about finding your people, those who you feel comfortable being your full self around without any barriers or masquerading. It's about discovering a place where you can test out parts of yourself, where you can discover who you are and what you're capable of. With Brody being gay, the significance of this only heightens that feeling, but the story doesn't solely focus around his sexuality or his understanding of it, which I found refreshing. There's more character development at work there, especially towards how Brody interacts with his family and how he views himself. It's a book that relishes and validates escapism, but also stresses the importance of coming back to reality when it truly matters.

The romance is a a slow burn, but helps culminate in a very emotional ending. I don't think Brody and Nico's relationship ever really landed for me, and it may be just because of how stretched out it is. Brody naturally has an instant crush on Nico after he saves his cat, but Nico spends a good chunk of the book with someone else. I loved how this didn't evoke any feelings of jealously or mistrust between Brody and Dani, Nico's boyfriend, the two having a somewhat chill friendship with each other. There's no falling out between them all, as people simply move in different directions. Overall, it feels like a very maturing experience, as we see some people start to grow out of their need for Everland.

As a sort of Peter Pan inspired work, I think it's a great transformative take on the tale. It's not a one to one retelling, though it at least shares a mutual theme about growing up. Much like Peter Pan, there's a certain mystery around how the magic of the Everland works. There's no discovery of what exactly the place is, or even why the doors start disappearing. I enjoyed the magic realism quality of it all.

Throughout both the Everland and the real world, there's a great amount of diverse reputation pertaining to sexuality, culture, ethnicity, disability, mental illnesses, all of which are handled honestly and respectfully. There are moments that almost tip towards the side of melodrama, but I think the way in which they were handled kept it from going over the edge. This is a book that has a lot of different emotions: sadness, fear, anger, insecurity, loneliness, neglect, so at times it's a not so easy ride. But, on the whole, I found it to be such an affirming, encouraging read, imparting that while we may drift from those that love and help us grow, the effects are still there, always giving that slight push to go on. 

I really appreciate the dark fantasy feel of this graphic novel. It gave me Snow, Glass, Apples vibes at times, telling of a woman that is more that what she appears, and what lies beneath the surface is something monstrous. The art has a way of overshadowing the story, as I was more swept away by the fantastical, nature landscapes, and the characters really didn't do much for me. It's a standard fantasy story with the standard cast of characters: a disgraced knight, a naive princess, a scheming stepmother, malevolent crones, an inept squire, etc. There's nothing wrong with a tried and true archetype, but it didn't feel like these characters and their journeys were being explored in a captivating or nuanced way. It's definitely dramatic enough to tell a capable story, but perhaps I've been spoiled and wanted something more out of a monster princess narrative.

Got almost halfway before I realized that I wasn't really absorbing much of the material. It has an interesting concept, but I don't think it executes it very well through a very basic writing style. There is a decent mystery aspect, and it seems like it has a lot to offer to those who like YA dystopias that center around elements of escape, survival, and corrupted beings in power. It's not really my genre so it probably didn't stand much of a chance.  

Revisited this book on audiobook to see if I still wanted to continue with the series. Originally, I felt that Scarlet hasn't lost anything to make any of the stakes brought up in the book worth it. She gets what she wants at no cost, other than some very heightened emotions in the moment that go away once things are resolved in her favor. While I still believe that to be true, it didn't bother me as much upon a second retread.

I still have no idea why the father was so abusive for no reason. It seemed like there should be some explanation of why he's willing to go to such great lengths to harm one sister for the other disobeying. He was just an uninteresting antagonist without much to him. I get that Scarlet and Donatella needed to be in a situation that had to be dire enough to run away completely from, but he was getting to mustache curling cartoon villain levels of wickedry. I fully believe this man is capable of tying someone to some railroad tracks if need be.

I also mentioned the lack of worldbuilding, but I have seen that the world is expanded upon in later books, so maybe I will continue for that reason. Also, I had forgotten how clever Tella was. For a moment, I found her insufferable, but once the end comes through that all changed. Since the sequels focus a bit more on her, that's also a reason to keep going.

I don't think I'll change my rating. Three stars seems a fair rating for a book I found passable, but didn't get immediately swept away with. 

Sometimes I'm utterly blind-sided by the underlying aspects of colonialism, racism, and xenophobia in 20th century British children's fantasy. I feel like it's unfair to fault Jones' entirely, due to the environment in which she wrote and how our understanding of these elements has grown in the past few decades, but it doesn't make the content easier to digest at times.

The way Millie/The Goddess is ultimately depicted and described as less savage than her peers due to her adopting a more Western name and aspiring to live the British schoolgirl life is, eh, not great. Describing Tacroy, a person of color, as "one of the good ones" when compared to others of his ethnicity, is also a big yikes.

It feels so out of place in what is yet another engaging Jones fantasy. I had similar feelings when I read Castle in the Air, so I imagine it's only going to be a reoccurring thing when Jones focuses on any nonwhite civilization or people. Again, a product of its time, but it doesn't exactly make it age well.

That aside, it's a classic fantasy about a boy coming into his power, kicking and screaming all the way. He's a reluctant hero in the most bratty way possible, without even fully realizing how much of a terror he is to other people. There's a bit of humor in when he realizes this and tries to be better, much to the relief of the castle staff. 

This book is great for those that also feel between places most of the time, that find strength in discovering things on their own while also coming from a broken upbringing. While Christopher's innocence and loyalty is turned against him, it never leads him to betray those that matter most to him, only to realize there are better people to ally yourselves with than those who want you for only what you can give them. 

Jojo's Bizarre Adventure has been the source for a bunch of meme material and has made quite a comeback with its anime adaptation, so I was interested in checking out the original manga, just to see what it was like. I have to say, I hadn't expected quite that much dark content, but I suppose that came from me not really knowing what JoJo was about other than buff anime men looking very intimidating but goofy at the same time. I'm not exactly a fan of the art style, where muscles appear larger than some characters' heads, but it's definitely a classic 80s style that I think other people would enjoy.

I don't think I'll be continuing with this series, as, while the mystery aspect is interesting, none of the characters really grabbed my attention. Dio is painted as a jerk you love to hate,  whereas I just straight up disliked him, and JoJo seems so bland as a main character. I know that the story hops around different generations and time periods, but I don't know if those will fare any better. 

Big trigger warning for animal cruelty, which I think is a reoccurring element in the series.

What would you do if you had the opportunity to forget every bad thing that happened to you? To forget your past misdeeds, or even coerce those you had wronged to give up any memory they have of being mistreated by you? All to be contained in a book, these memories would either sit on the shelves of voyeurs, or be locked away forever. The Binding brings up these sorts of ethical questions, never completely examining them beyond their surface level, but maybe that's meant to be more of the reader's journey than the characters.' Around the halfway mark, the story shifts from being an alternative history/slight dystopian focusing on Emmett's apprenticeship as a binder to a romance story. I didn't really mind this change, as I liked the somewhat vague worldbuilding, and it puts the first half of the book in a completely new context. It also places Emmett in the interesting position of an unreliable narrator that has no idea of his unreliability. 

Though I was satisfied to where the story went, it felt like this book could have done a more coherent job of tying together all its narrative threads. This books contains three parts, one told in Emmett's POV in the present, the second in the past, and the third following the present from another character's POV. With the binding being a more prevalent aspect in the first part, and the romance in the second, it would be natural to tie the two together in that third act, but one clearly has more time devoted to it than the other. It makes the theming somewhat unbalanced. We do get a better idea of how the binding process affects society and certain economic classes, while also getting a bit more of the morality and consequences of it, but not a whole lot more that what we've already been given. 

The romance is at least pretty sweet. I can definitely see the chemistry between the two characters and I do ultimately want them to get together. How much you enjoy this book will depend on which aspect you want more out of the story. It's a dark, emotional, bittersweet read, one that will immediately suck you in with all its moral complexities and mysteries.

While the art style is absolutely gorgeous, I felt like the story was a little too jumbled to enjoy. Some plot threads start and stop so abruptly, like "eh, tired of that direction we're going in so let's do a bit of a turn in the middle of the story." At some points it feels like the plot is just sort of going on without doing much, only to make a sudden lurch towards the end. Given some development, I think Lelek and Sanja could have been stronger characters, but they just seem there. Lelek's desire to learn to defend herself with Sanja as her teacher peters out during near the third act of the comic, which almost makes the inciting incident of her kidnapping Sanja somewhat pointless. Some character motivations either come out of nowhere or are so muddled that it's hard to get a sense of what they truly want in the narrative. I wonder if the author was going for a more vague form of storytelling, more abstract, but, in this case, it only led to more confusion than enjoyment.