readwatchdrinkcoffee's Reviews (382)


Young adult dystopias are a trending topic at the minute, but it’s such a crowded genre that they will always be compared to the likes of The Hunger Games, The Maze Runner, and Divergent, and other young adult fictions such as Twilight, depending on their quality. The young adult genre is perfect for exploring identity and relationships, but when combined with a dystopian setting, they also need to be filled with fast-paced action, threatening situations, big moral dilemmas, and strong lead characters who we want to be standing beside in the revolution.

So how does The 5th Wave compare? The first chapter (the longest chapter in the book), at least, is incredible. This opening section details Cassie’s present day situation by giving us some background information about her life, moving on to when the alien invasion began. Detailing the first four waves, as Cassie writes in her diary from the present day whilst on her own and on the run, this first chapter really draws you in. The premise is clever, the story feels original, and as Cassie describes her mother dying and how she came to be on her own, it’s even quite emotional.

At this point, her high school romance is presumed dead, and, if you’re like me (tired of sucky love triangles getting in the way of a good dystopia!) you think, “What a great start, at least this boy she’s swooning over won’t get in the way of some good action!”. But it doesn’t last long. As Cassie’s story catches up with her into the present day and she finds a companion on the open road, you know the greatness isn’t going to continue for much longer.

Whilst the story is really well paced, which should make the adaptation work well on the big screen, and there’s a lot of action combined with some darker moments that almost convince you that the book could pick up, the characters have very little depth.

There are a number of different narratives in the story, which is mainly told from Cassie’s point of view, but also from another male lead (I won’t spoil who!) as their two stories come together. Cassie leads most of the story, and it’s always great to have a female leading a dystopia/young adult novel (although this is something else we’re seeing as the ‘trendy’ thing to do), but the purpose of having a female lead is so that she can defy our expectations. For a little while, you do believe that Cassie is a strong and determined character, but as soon as she comes into contact with a male, all of her morals go out of the window. Whilst the first few chapters explore her mindset as she convinces herself to go on and make a difference, and persuades herself to kill others to ensure her own safety, as soon as she meets Evan all she thinks about is how every part of him smells like chocolate.

Like with most young adult novels, this horribly unrealistic romance gets in the way. There are no real emotions behind such relationships, just desperation from both the author and the characters they have created. But it’s not just Cassie as “the girl” of the story falling head over heels for a mysterious stranger, as the male lead isn’t any better, either. In the middle of his combat training, this character is more concerned with thinking about how he can impress his only female squad member [of his age] rather than how he can defeat the enemy, or even finding out who the real enemy is.

Maybe I’m growing too old for young adult novels, but I don’t know what’s with the fascination of having to fit in some kind of romance whenever possible. All these romances do is distract the characters from what’s important. And by the end of the book, it looks like a love triangle may be in the works, as well. Why do young adult fictions do this? If the romance was any good, then maybe my opinion would be different. But these characters and their relationships feel so one-dimensional that they become unrelatable, as they’re all set on finding true love rather than fighting for humanity.



If I had to make a comparison, it would be to Stephenie Meyer‘s The Host. This novel also had a female lead, it was set around an alien invasion, and it had a love triangle that quickly ruined its potential. Like Meyer’s novel, The 5th Wave isn’t overly well written, but it does have some insightful moments.

When you’re not reading about Evan’s chocolatey breath or Cassie’s trust issues, the novel also has a big military focus. At first, it seems like an odd place for the story to go, but the story is set around such naive characters that the unrealistic progression of this apocalyptic setting becomes justified. But these scenes also open up some of the darker tones in the story, many of which are the novel’s only real highlights. By the end, the story does start to come together a little better, but it’s a story that you’ll always be a few steps ahead of.

At first, you’re curious, but it just doesn’t satisfy your hunger for power, strength of character, or ass-kicking action. It’s all far too sugar-coated and ends with a big group hug rather than an ominous cliff-hanger.

Told from the perspective of a five-year-old, this narrative style is a bold step from author Emma Donoghue, and it’s not always one that pays off. The last child narrated book that I read was John Boyne’s The Boy In The Striped Pyjamas, and I couldn’t get into the story because of how repetitive it was. Having such a young mind defining the writing style can often mean that the language and sentence structure suffer, just like with the first half of Stephen Chbosky’s The Perks Of Being A Wallflower. This another one of my favourite novels, but it is one that is again difficult to get into because of how simply the language is written at the beginning, as Chbosky allows time for the language to improve as the narrating character grows.

But Donoghue captures what it is to be so young perfectly, and by mimicking the voice of a five-year-old so well, Room remains an incredibly well-written novel throughout. Jack knows nothing but the 11×11 square room that he has grown up in, which is hard enough to describe on the page as it is. But as Jack says hello to his friends – Rug, Plant, Wardrobe, Lamp – and struggles to come to terms with the thought of even one other person or a single blade of grass existing outside of the walls he is imprisoned in, we experience this traumatic experience through the eyes of an intelligent, cheerful, good-natured, and brave little boy.

The story is inspired by the infamous Fritzl case, from which Donoghue conceived the story for Room after hearing about five-year-old Felix. So the subject matter is quite hard-hitting, and if it were told through any other narrative, this would have been a completely different story. It’s because of Donoghue’s choice in narrative style and how well she writes from this perspective that makes this novel such a tender read. And, because of this, it’s not over-dramatised or made unbearing to read, despite how uncomfortable the scenes would have been if they were from an adult’s point of view, and instead is a surprising uplifting coming-of-age journey of a child experiencing a whole new world.

Because we experience it through Jack’s naive eyes, as well, the story even manages to be quite funny amid the shock and claustrophobia. Jack knows no different from the world his mother has created for him in Room, and the way his mind deals with his situation is immensely clever as well as bittersweet. Jack is such an empowering character for someone so young, and it’s hard not to feel a mother’s instinct come through as you read his personal and memorable story for yourself.

The story structure is fairly simple, separated into four sections as it slowly moves along, but it’s all about the inner struggles of Jack’s mind and how his relationship with his mother develops that keeps you gripped. It’s solely about these two people, and their characters are created with such tenuity that all you want is for everything to end well. Conflicts keep the story paced well, as Ma balances her proudness of her son with her impatience, but it all comes down to the divergence of a mother’s love.

The trailer for the recent film adaptation does ruin a lot of the story, so if you plan on reading this novel, then I suggest you do so without watching any of the promotional footage beforehand. If I hadn’t of seen the trailer before reading the novel myself, then I would have commented that the novel was suspenseful and gripping, because it’s difficult to imagine whether such a potentially heartbreaking story can end happily at all or not. It is, after all, a story about survival, courage, and about keeping up your strength when all else seems lost.

Room is certainly a story that you won’t want to forget.

Well, it wasn't quite what I was expecting. I expected a lot more order among the group but it's quite hectic from the beginning, so there's no surprise that it doesn't end well. It is really well written, but I found the stereotypes too dated to find it relatable, although it is an excellent exploration of character. It is quite scary by the end, too, and it certainly leaves you with a lot to think about.

Colm Tóibín’s novel is a literary delight. Incredibly well written, Tóibín uses plain prose and a simple linear structure, but his writing reads like poetry as he adds detached detail to almost every sentence. It’s easy to see why the novel is so well praised, telling a simple story about a young girl transforming into a woman, finding her own way in life as an immigrant in a big city.

But although I enjoyed reading the novel, it was pretty uneventful for the most part and it was only until the final few chapters where we meet Jim that I was eager to read through until the end and find out what happens.

I didn’t particularly relate to Eilis, as she is quite a dull character at the beginning, but the book takes its time to allow Eilis to develop into a stronger character who you can engage with. As the novel opens, Eilis is sat watching the people in her town out of her window, observing their lives rather than living her own. She has few passions, but mainly she does as she is told, and it is these constraints that paint her personality traits.

Much like she didn’t have any choice in moving to Brooklyn at the beginning, Eilis doesn’t have much of a choice in either of her relationships, either, as she constantly floats between decisions that are being made for her. The ultimatum that she is faced with at the end of the story isn’t really down to her, as she must choose between having what she’s always wanted, but under the watchful eyes of everybody around her, or returning to America where she is granted more freedom, but where she must live the life that Tony has had planned for her all along.

It’s a difficult situation to relate to, and it’s because of these constraints that Eilis doesn’t flourish off the page. Then again, the story is set in 1950s Ireland and women did have to conform to society, and if Eilis wasn’t so naive and inexperienced, this wouldn’t be the story that it is.

By the end, Eilis stands up for herself for the first time in her life, which is truly admirable, even if I was rooting for the other guy all along. It’s these final few chapters in which we see Eilis for who she really is, and as you put the book down you will find yourself feeling completely different about her.

With Tóibín’s beautiful descriptions and use of elegant language, Brooklyn is a simple but charming story that takes you on a very personal and emotional journey.

We all think we know Kipling's story thanks to Disney, but The Jungle Book is actually a collection of fables, and only 3 out of 7 of them relate to Mowgli. I was only interested in these three stories because it was only about Mowgli that I wanted to read about, which left me quite frustrated at first. But whilst the other 4 fables give memorable moral lessons, the book is very dated and even I found them quite difficult to relate with. I wouldn't particularly say that this is a children's novel, because I think older readers will get much more out of it, but you do need to be prepared for a more in-depth story than the Disneyfied version. The stories of Mowgli and his friends are quite different from the story we know, but there's a lot more to appreciate in terms of imagination and adventure. They may not be the simple fairytale you were imagining, but Kipling is an incredible insightful writer.

Dark Places is a brilliantly intense mystery and a fast-paced thriller. I read the novel in one sitting, proving yet again that Flynn knows how to completely immerse you into the story and its characters. The book felt like a real thriller with its complex story. With the case revolving around satanic rituals, as well, it felt very close to the real-life Memphis Three trial, which was made into the 2013 film Devil’s Knot, making it even more interesting to follow.

With these themes of satanic rituals, Dark Places is incredibly dark at times, especially when you don’t know where to place your trust. As you find with most of Flynn’s novels, you don’t know who you’re supposed to be rooting for, or even who to like, and this uncertainty is what grips you. The characters are so well-developed, even if all of them have their fair share of disturbing natures, and even though you don’t know who the enemy is, you find yourself relating to each of them.

The story has a really twisted tone to it, and, as much as it pains me to say, it’s even quite sexy at times. That’s probably the last word you would expect to describe a story like this, but there were many descriptive scenes involving masturbation, sex, nudity, and explicit love letters, where Flynn manages to seduce you with her writing, as completely inappropriate as that felt.

You can really connect to the characters, too. I felt so uncomfortable in how much I liked the young Ben Day. He’s sympathetic and threatening at the same time, and it’s this imbalance in his character that engages you.

All in all, you we will be completely immersed in this novel whether you like it or not. Flynn is one of my favourite writers at the minute, and she knows how to lure you in.

The Martian is a refreshing and intelligent science fiction book, telling a personal story of optimism and bravery, that is filled to the brim with immersive adventure.

Balancing on the border of realism and science fiction, it tells a gripping tale of survival. The technology terms and mathematics may occasionally get a little thick but, at the same time, it’s so nice to read a book where the author has obviously put a lot of research into the matter. Too often I find myself reading something thinking how little thought or description has been put into it, but with Weir’s story, he leaves no doubt in your mind or question unanswered.

On top of that, Mark Watney is an instantly likable character, which is a good job since the book can sometimes come across claustrophobic with only one character and a limited environment. But he has a great sense of humor, and he pushes himself to the limits. By the end, we can really feel his pain and desperation, and there are many moments in the book when you’re convinced that he won’t be able to survive this terrifying ordeal.

It's no wonder that To Kill a Mockingbird has been deemed a classic, because that's exactly what it is. Scout is such a brilliant character, and I didn't want to stop reading. I don't even like the film adaptation, which is a very rare thing for me to say, because I just don't think that it gives this incredible story the justice it deserves.

Paper Towns is two things: a heartfelt story about growing up, and an exhilarating adventure motivated by love, friendship, and the desire to push yourself further in an attempt to find out who you really are.

The story explores a set of characters who are at a point in their lives where everything is changing; a time when a teenager is at their most emotional. The end of highschool is the end of an era, everything matters a great deal at this point, but with unwanted ends come new beginnings, and in a few months they will all be starting new lives with new friends as they leave for different colleges anyway.

It’s a story about growing up and the different kind of relationships that you have – with your parents, with your friends, and sooner or later with the opposite sex – but this isn’t the kind of book that would be taught about at school, either.

It’s too real – these characters drink, they smoke, they have sex, they get STDs, they steal, and they sneak out of the house in the middle of the night: all of the things that your parents are glad you weren’t doing when you were younger (only because you never got caught!).

But these characters aren’t bad role models or over-stereotyped: it’s just the way high school is. Some people get through high school by being the popular girl who dates most of the football team, while others spend their time in the band room and go off to college without even had kissed a girl.

Paper Towns teaches you not to judge somebody because of the role they fit into it, and that even if you do think you know somebody well, you may be surprised at the different layers that one person can have.

These stereotypes are honest, and because of that you can really see yourself in these characters, and that’s what makes this such a lovely novel to read. Every naivity or worry or moment of anger that these characters feel, you’ve been there yourself once, too, and for that, it’s a spot-on coming-of-age story.

The ending is a little disappointing when so much has led up to this point, but at the same time – that’s life!

Just like the first novel, The Scorch Trials is full of adventure, action and anticipation. The novels are incredibly fun to read, with a new twist springing up in every chapter to keep you excited and engaged.

There are new technologically advanced monsters, personal tests of humanity, and struggles against a world which is controlled by others, which all keep the pace up, the scares coming, and the readers on edge.

But The Scorch Trials does become quite repetitive at times. Thomas passes out at the end of almost every chapter, and we are somewhat undermined as intelligent readers as the novel constantly questions whether his visions are memories or just dreams. We knew that Thomas’ visions were memories from the first novel, but as more and more is revealed with the amount of times that Thomas is left unconscious, it becomes a little tedious at times.

Aside from that, The Scorch Trials is another impressive young adult dystopia, filled with dark tones, character struggles, and relationship tests, which all ensure that this is a novel that you won’t want to put down.