rickjones's Reviews (1.66k)

From Below is a bone-chilling and original horror novel with organic scares. I've always been fascinated by scuba-diving and underwater worlds, but Coates used our innate fears of drowning and being stranded in the sea against readers, frightening even me, who doesn't have a natural-born fear of water. The book was gripping the whole way through, and the switches between timelines and characters were the perfect length to hold suspense. I was thoroughly entertained by this haunting story and highly recommend it for other horror readers.

Chouette is a wild, lyrical novel I immediately recognized as a metaphor for raising a disabled child, specifically an autistic one. While Oshetsky relating her experience raising her autistic daughter to Tiny raising an owl-baby may seem questionable to some readers, I personally feel drawn to stories that depict trauma through allegorical and impossible means. And while Tiny suffers immensely in raising her daughter, it's Chouette who is in the most danger from a world so repulsed by her that it would dehumanize her in order to alter her natural state.

I gleefully suspended my disbelief while reading this story, relishing in Tiny's devotion to her daughter and Chouette's unembarrassed honesty and wanton destruction. Throughout the book, Chouette's father, who noticeably calls his daughter by the wrong name, refuses to interact with her unless he's found a new medical intervention. While some of these interventions are imagined, others that are briefly mentioned, such as forcing a child to ingest poisonous chemicals, are abuses that have been documented as supposed "cures" for autism: Parents are poisoning their children with bleach to 'cure' autism. These moms are trying to stop it (https://www.nbcnews.com/tech/internet/moms-go-undercover-fight-fake-autism-cures-private-facebook-groups-n1007871). Alternately, Tiny learns what Chouette needs and frenziedly provides it for her, while warring against her private doubts that Chouette's aggressively determined father may be right that she must be profoundly altered in order to exist peacefully in the world. I was moved by the meaning of this story, and exhilarated by its unconventional approach and rich descriptions of the natural world. While this novel may not be understood, much less loved by some readers, I treasured Chouette and its strangeness. 

The Only One Left is a riveting thriller that I literally did not put down until I finished the last page. Sager sets up an atmospheric and terrifying environment with Hope's End, a bloodstained mansion that seems like it's only a storm away from being swept into the sea. Kit is one of Sager's most endearing protagonists, she is caring yet obsessive and wants Lenora's story told out of a sense of shared camaraderie, as she was similarly disgraced for a death she did not intentionally cause. Sager reveals more twists and secrets as the novel continues, resulting in an ending as unexpected as it was far-fetched. Though I felt there were one too many twists in the epilogue of the novel, its engagement speaks for itself. I devoured it easily in the course of one night and was never tempted to tear myself away from the pages as the hours crept on. Recommended for readers looking for a thriller that will hold their attention and haunt them until they return to it. 

The Last Animal is a meditation on grief, environmental destruction, and mothers and daughters told primarily through the eyes of a lonely yet perceptive teenage girl. Sections of the book are rather sad, as Vera is still rocked with grief by her father dying and her mother and sister growing apart from her. I did not think the book was as adventurous or playful as I had expected from the publisher's description. Even once the miraculous wolly mammoth baby enters the book, grief rises over the family like a tidal wave. The family, both human and mammoth, are isolated by their unlawful shared existence, and it soon becomes evident that the mammoth will never survive to adulthood, as its human caretakers do not understand its needs or its place in the world. Regardless, I thought this was a well-written and gorgeously descriptive book that translates the ache of grief for impossible needs into resounding language. 

Murder on Mustang Beach was my welcome introduction to both the Outer Banks Bookshop Mystery series and the cozy mystery genre as a whole. I thoroughly enjoyed the atomosphere and imagery of Cattail Island as I got to know Callie and the Island's other residents. Callie was an engaging character to follow, as she was determined, empathetic, and just smart enough to stay down-to-earth. The mystery itself was a page-turner, and I wasn't sure who could have committed the crimes and why until Callie solved them. I also greatly appreciate that this book raised more awareness for Banker horses. Seeing them in person recently was awe-inspiring and I hope they will be able to stay wild and healthy for many generations to come. I would reccomend this book and look forward to reading its predecessor, and hopefully, its sequels. 

No One is Talking About This displays the pathetic absurdity of social media, specifically Twitter, through fragmented events in our vain and profoundly idiotic protagonist's life. She spends the first part of the novel submerging herself further and further into the vapid, foolish indifference of "the portal", relishing in the fame she's experienced for creating viral content out of moronic behavior. We are forced along this ride with her, witnessing desperate and meaningless posting that mirrors discourses that I either know for a fact happened on Twitter, or realistically could have. Suddenly, her life is turned upside-down by her sister's pregnancy which is expected to result in a stillborn girl with a brain and body doomed to die. With abortion out of the question, the sister has no option but to give birth to this daughter. In her grief, the woman starts to disconnect from the portal, noting how ridiculous it seems to post her way through the situation. Yet miraculously, the baby survives, and the woman spends a tender six months loving her niece, whose time is fleeting. Lockwood's precision in describing events and emotions makes this book a riveting and intelligent read that urges us to search for meaning in a mad world. Personally, the book inspired me to finally quit using Twitter and engage with my loved ones in a more personal manner. I highly recommend this book to anyone at odds with their own social media dependence, and to readers looking for stories that are both laughable and profound. 

This was an exhilarating thriller that kept me guessing about the Bartholomew's secrets until the very end.  The gothic edge successfully gave the premises and its residents a foreboding air that lingered throughout the book. I was gripped by Jules' determination and haunted perspective from a lifetime of learning to expect the worst. She was not a perfect investigator, yet her poor decisions made her seem more down-to-earth and realistic. Once I was engaged in the novel I was glued to the pages, and read until the very end. By now I've read all but one of Sager's novels, and this one makes it into my favorites. Definitely recommended for readers looking for a fast-paced and atmospheric thriller.

Tomorrow, Tomorrow, and Tomorrow is a treasure of a book about love, play, work, and pain. Zevin took on an ambitious project of writing a novel with several resounding themes and made magic with each. The book has straightforward writing that knocks you down with wisdom dispersed to Sam and Sadie by their loved ones and their own long-awaited revelations. I don't think I've ever read another story that truly captures the feeling of being saved by a friend and knowing there is no language to ever describe how deeply you love them. Sam and Sadie's ties to one another ring throughout the novel, even in moments when their problems seem impossible to overcome. They act selfishly, they disrespect the inner worlds and pains of one another, and yet they share a friendship that washed over them like a wave and refuses to release them. I fell in love with these characters, despite their many flaws, and looked forward to returning to them whenever I opened the book.

Additionally, it is incredibly meaningful for me to have read a book that discusses chronic pain with raw honesty and understanding that it is a constant and varied hurt that requires a lifetime of adaptions and invisible fortitude. To think that so many people are reading a book that displays the reality of chronic pain is very heartening to me. I don't doubt that this is a book I will read again in the future. I highly recommend it to those who appreciate character-driven stories. 

Plums for Months is a unique memior that honors the riches of Cox's childhood even while growing up low-income. Through imaginative and emotionally intelligent essays, Cox shares the joys of nature, strenghtening the body, and growing into an artist with the support of her mother and older sister. Not every essay is joyful, but Cox is adept at exploring emotion and inspiration, providing youthful and rewarding wisdom through each piece. I definitely reccomend this book for others looking for an original and uplifting neurodivergent memoir.