Well that was just....bleak. You want a book that will absolutely rock you every time you pick it up, this will most likely do the job. I'm not even mad about where the story went, as I'm a big lover of dark fantasy in the vein of Gaiman and Del Toro, whose works this story has been compared to.I will agree that it shares the same dark, atmospheric tone of Gaiman's style, and perhaps the ruthlessness of the monsters gives a touch of Del Toro vibes, but it feels more like the former. 

Honestly, I'm glad to have a faery story that is just absolutely relentless in its attempts to be as disturbing as possible. Most people forget how truly messed up these creatures are, how bloody their older stories get and how extremely few there are with good intentions. Cargill writes with such a great attention to visuals, which makes sense given that he's also a screenwriter. Some scenes come off very cinematic, especially in the climax, and overall made the story more engaging.

When thinking about the characters, I'm not going to say they were written with a tremendous amount of depth. In the first part, their child selves showed more endearing qualities and opened themselves up to more personality, while, with the second part focusing on their adult lives, it does feel like something went missing along the way. Perhaps that was the point, seeing as they all grew in different ways while the traumas they all went through left a lasting mark. I was most interested in Colby, who grew from a cute kid to a truly terrifying adult and I'm definitely going to check out the next book to see where he goes next. Blame the Dresden files for getting me hooked on powerful to the point of scary wizards.

The epilogue was also a bit of a great treat to end the story, as it's all too easy in join in Coyote's amusement when you see that he essentially made a bogeyman for faeries. Gotta love a trickster that's always pulling the strings.

A noir departure from Bradbury's usually horror and sci-fi tales, but still manages to hold that same level of mystery and elegance that comes from his style. I'm not a big fan of the genre, so I didn't enjoy this book on the same level as his other stories. There were many lullish moments and I didn't really find anything interesting about the paper thin characters, but there's still something to admire about the images he evokes in his writing here: a decrepit boardwalk that is past its prime, wagons taken in by the ocean, the corpse of a roller coaster resting on its beach, an old theater house devoted to stars of the past. Once you key into the fact that the main character is essentially Bradbury's self insert, it kind of brings up an interesting theme of relevance, of if this man writing stories about Martians will truly survive in this world that's crumbling around him. Given that this is one of his later books and comes off as a reflection on his earlier years as a writer, it seems like something worth noting.

Judging from this book's reputation as an absolute tome of high fantasy, naturally I was pretty intimidated when I started reading. The first hundred pages or so are rough, with many shifting character perspectives, so many names and places to learn, different sets of religions and histories, but that's pretty par the course for this genre. Once you get into the groove of the book, however, it starts to become more manageable and the plot really starts going. There were several moments that were just stabs to the heart and led to really great twists and turns, while also having a decent amount of calmer, more character building moments. Out of our entire cast, I don't think there was one I found uninteresting or underdeveloped. Sure, there are some I think we could have spent more time with, personally I would have loved to see more of Donmota Morosa and maybe a few chapters from her perspective, but I'm pretty satisfied by what we got.

The unapologetic and accepted queerness was top notch. Ead and Sabran's relationship blossomed wonderfully and, by the end, I was rooting for them all the way.

I actually really liked the fact that, in the end, they didn't ditch their responsibilities to run away together. They both realized that they have titles to fulfill and duties to their people that have to be done, if only for a certain period. It would have been reckless and out of character if they both just threw it all away, so I'm glad the author went for a more mature direction for their end game.

I see that the author is coming out with a prequel next year and....while I'm glad that there will be a return to this world, I can't say I'm not disappointed that it won't be with these characters, at least not yet. I guess I would be more accepting of a prequel if there weren't just so many loose ends I want to see mended as soon as possible.

Such a beautiful, meaningful comic about how stories allow us to connect to each other in so many different ways. It was so moving to see Tiến and his mother bond and show their love and understanding for each other through their love of fairy tales. The art style captures the magic and wonder of these stories as well as completely landing each emotion they are meant to evoke. The use of varying colors throughout is such a great choice and makes each part of the story stand out in their own ways, with the shifting reds, blues, and purples. Just an absolute treat for the eyes and the heart.

After going through the Alanna series last year, I thought it was time to pick up Pierce's next series set in Tortall. Daine is an absolute treat of a main character. The sheer stubbornheadedness of "Yeah, sure, maybe I can talk to animals and have them do my bidding, but I'm not MAGIC" was constantly hilarious. She's drastically different from Alanna in many ways, more unsure of herself, more wary of her own potential power, less rash in using her abilities,

except for, you know, the time she almost stopped her heart just to talk to a couple of dolphins.

Through her perspective, we get an outsider's view of Tortall, which has already changed so much since we last saw this world. I'm not the biggest fan of time skips within series, since I usually like knowing the whole story, but I think Pierce pulls it off and I hope we continue to see more of Tortall's progress in the coming books.

The pacing is also way more grounded here. Whereas the Alanna books usually condense the events of many years into a single book, this one takes place probably over the course of a couple months. It was less disorienting and gave a better sense of the character's progression now that we aren't being hurried from one large event to the next. 

Definitely a series made for animal lovers. The inclusion of mythical creatures was really a bonus and brings a great new threat to the world. The mental image of the Stormwings is effectively unnerving, the griffins regal, and you've totally had me at dragons. 

Again, I wish I had read these books at a younger age, since they really work best for the tween crowd, but I'm glad I'm finally getting to them now.

Well, folks, I think I can say that Jurassic Park is one of the few stories that overall works better as a film than a book. All the problems I had while reading it were either completely nullified or not an issue within the movie, though I may have a bit of a bias seeing as I saw it for the first time a few months ago and was my introduction to this world. I was already aware of the basic setup, story beats, concepts, etc. so there weren't any surprises other than maybe a few character differences and who lives/who dies. I feel a bit guilty about hinging my whole enjoyment of the book on comparing it to the film, but it's difficult when the adaptation does the story so much better than the source material.

To be fair, there were some things exclusive to the book I liked. Seeing Hammond as a more ego-obsessed capitalist and pretty much the villain of the book was interesting, as well as the concept of the dinosaurs being migratory. Literally everything else? Not so much.

The writing style is dull and not captivating at all. There was a lot of technobabble and infodumps, coming from characters that mainly feel like their only purpose was to give lectures and philosophize. (Ian Malcolm got a great upgrade in the film through Jeff Goldblum let me tell you that.) I understand that these concepts need to be explained so that the story, you know, makes sense, but the film did it in a way that was more comprehensible and condensed for a mainstream audience and really just flowed better with the narrative.

Then there's the Sattler and Lex issue. Crichton couldn't write a decent or well-rounded female character to save his chops. Sattler, though she's given so many opportunities to be competent and knowledgeable, is naturally relegated to the dame in the shorts to be ogled at, even by the dang eleven year old. Then there's a moment where she spots poisonous plants that are deadly should anyone touch or eat them and she just....doesn't tell anyone? And God, then there's Lex, the character whose core personality trait is to be the annoying little sister that constantly complains and actively makes things harder for other characters. Her only purpose in this story is to be as irritating as possible and there is nothing in the story that gives her a reason to be here. 

When it comes to how threatening the dinosaurs come off on the page versus the screen, there's definitely more carnage here. Bloodier deaths, disemboweling, the works. Yet they rarely have a lasting presence when they aren't in the middle of attacking someone. There's only so many times I can feel tension when "oh no the T-Rex caught up with us again!" In that regard, it's a lot more thrilling to see the dinos in action, to feel their weight as you see that famous cup of water start to jostle or witness their more gentler sides. 

Really, if you have already seen the movie, there's not much more this book is going to give you. If you're curious, I would suggest just checking out one of those differences between the book vs. film lists to see what you're missing out on and you'll get the same experience in a much faster way. 

It's great to be back at Camp Half-Blood. And with an ex-god as our POV character no less! I was really excited to read this story taken from the perspective of a being we see mostly in the sidelines in the PJ universe. Sure, Apollo may not be at his usual top billing, yet still clings to his godly ego for most of the adventure, but it makes for great character moments. I love stories that use an extreme use of humbling to evoke character development and that's basically what this entire series is going to be about. Even in this first installment, Apollo's development starts off very compelling as we see him struggle and reflect, already showing a very human side.

This book definitely has a smaller scope than the rest of the books, especially coming off the Heroes of Olympus series. With one half of it in New York City and the other in Camp Half Blood and its forest, it starts off very intimate setting-wise, whereas even in The Lightning Thief there was a cross country trek. At first it was a little disappointing, since one of the appeals of the series is its showcasing of interesting locations, but it makes sense for Apollo to start off small, as he's still learning what he's capable of as a mortal and even tossing him into a dumpster in NYC already gave him enough trouble. 

Great to see Percy setting some boundaries when it comes to epic quests. Boy's been scarred enough for ten lifetimes at this point. Nico and Will are incredibly adorable together and absolutely steal the show. All in all, The Hidden Oracle gave a good balance of seeing old and new faces as we're eased into a new core trio for this series. 

Neil Gaiman's short stories tend to be a mixed bag. Sometimes, you get stories that rival his full length novels in terms of creativity, depth, suspense, and mystery, stories that leave you staring at that last page for a while, wondering if you're meant to be feeling a sense of dread, amusement, or curiosity at the things left unsaid. Or perhaps you're hit with a mixture of all three.

Other times, you have stories that are just....there. They fill the pages, they have a plot and characters that stick around and have their fun, and by the end you just move on to a hopefully better story. Anthologies are like that sometimes, so I'm not holding it against this book. I wouldn't exactly recommend it to Gaiman fans, as they've surely already read these stories in either Fragile Things or Smoke and Mirrors. The clear objective of this book was to choose the stories with the most kid-pleasing potential and, for the most part, the selections are serviceable. Weird to see "How to Talk to Girls at Parties" here, since that's definitely for a more at least teenaged crowd, as it's focused on a more mature experience. But I wouldn't say there's any story completely off limits for kids in here.

Some standouts include "October in the Chair," "Chivalry," "The Price," and "The Sunbird." I'm wavering a bit on "Troll Bridge" and "Don't Ask Jack," the first I like more for its ending, and the second I wish could have been a bit longer so we get a little more terror out of this infernal little jack in the box.

"The Case of Four and Twenty Blackbirds" and "How to Sell the Ponti Bridge" were a bit tedious to me, so I sort of just sped through those, as well as "The Witch's Headstone," which is good, but is also a chapter in The Graveyard Book, which I've already read. 

"How to Talk to Girls at Parties" and "Instructions" were middle of the road, good enough for me to enjoy the brief time they were there, but not particularly standouts. The latter has the usual Gaiman dark whimsy as I like to call it. 

I never get tired of seeing Ethan Aldridge's amazing watercolors in action. Whether its setting the scene with a lush environment full of rich color and depth or showcasing brilliant and stunning feats of bardic magic, the illustrations really make this story stand out from other fantasy graphic novels. Some of the panels could really stand as art pieces in their own rights. Also, for some reason, his troll designs always hit just right for the fantasy nerd in me.

I'm a big fan of Aldridge's Estranged series, which, in comparison, is somewhat more complex and action-orientated, but I appreciated Brightblade's more lower key nature. It prioritizes developing engaging character dynamics and plot over rigorous world building, making it more accessible to younger readers who may just be getting into fantasy. I really hope we see more from Alto and the troupe, since I loved seeing how they worked off of each other and played to each other's strengths. 

Though not his best play, Wilde's wit, charm, and usual penchant for drama are used to the nth degree here. I found myself amused throughout the majority of it, since even a mediocre Wilde outing is going to have at least some great zingers and heavily quotable material. Lord Goring was the star of the show in that regard, always having the best lines and comedic moments. I liked his character for the most part, with him being the type of friend that everyone deems useless, but really has a great sense of loyalty and compassion. However, he really lost me in the fourth act there with the blatant misogyny that is "a man's life is of more value than a woman's." I understand this was written in a different time and possibly an attempt for Wilde to mirror the scandal of his own identity and situation, but it was just odd to come by in this work.

The plot had me until the fourth act, where any sense of conflict fizzles out completely and oddly conveniently. Our devious antagonist, Mrs. Cheveley has fallen out of the story entirely after one final attempt at blackmail only to fail spectacularly. Again, this was probably due to give a more comedic effect, but it doesn't really make for an engaging final act. I think it would be more interesting to see this play performed, rather than just to read it, to see if the actors would give any nuance to the material.