rickjones's Reviews (1.66k)

Maybe I'll try to finish this some other time... but I truly hated reading it. King has a talent for describing the mundane viscerally to impart a sense of disgust and discomfort, but weaponized it to such an extent that I quickly lost interest in finishing the book. 

The strongest merit of Imaginary Friend is how it remains equally engaging page after page, which was a relief, since there are nearly a thousand of them. Chbosky's effort developing his characters is a key factor in the story's power. Lore wise, I was somewhat disappointed once all secrets were revealed, yet I was still satisfied reading Christopher and Kate's fight against evil. 

It's difficult for me to gather much more to say about the book since it's so expansive, but I'm not sure I'd recommend it to others. I did think the horror was written well, but the true source of it felt trite to me and I'd really been expecting something more original. If you do read it please review the list of content warnings, which is nearly as long as the book itself.

This anthology contained a number of sweet stories that are sure to inspire LGBT+ middle schoolers to be true to themselves and persevere against the obstacles in their way. However, while each of the characters in this book are unique, the variety of plots was somewhat of a disappointment to me. Nearly all of the stories were set in the modern, "real" world and about a gay character dealing with their first crush. Not that those stories aren't important, especially for an LGBT+ middle school audience, but I was hoping for more trans narratives than what was ultimately presented. Still, I felt that each of these stories were written well and with emotion young readers are sure to respond and relate too. Their generation is lucky to have these rainbows of stories to help them find their way. 

Home Before Dark is an engaging read that glued me to its pages, but began to lose my suspension of disbelief near the end. The title is narrated by the text of the notorious House of Horrors and the inner thoughts of its now grown feature character Maggie Holt, who lived her life in the shadow of her father's writing. Early on it becomes obvious that we're not reading a story of a haunting, but rather one of a series of lies that spirals into a decades old "whodunnit". Sager presents just the right amount of description for us to richly imagine Baneberry Hall without losing momentum in the plot, or creating something that felt like a drudgery to read. Yet to me, the ending twists were more annoying than satisfying, as the sheer amount of them seemed unnecessary and almost silly. I would still recommend this book to others who enjoy a mystery novel that it almost effortless to read. There was never a period where reading this book felt tedious, and I repeatedly looked forward to spending more time with it. 

I'd been waiting to read this book for a while so maybe it was inevitable that it didn't live up to my expectations as a mystery novel. However, I don't regret having spent time with it and absorbing what it had to say.

In creating the political environment of Wagner Books and Nella's personhood the writing was strong and sharply observant. Nella felt like a person who could feasibly exist and it was easy to empathize with her motivations and anxieties as she navigated routine microaggressions from her coworkers and the strangeness of Hazel's possible sabotage attempts. Yet the numerous times facets of her personality and viewpoints were revealed through extended flashbacks was disorienting, which I also felt from the book as a whole. It was difficult keeping up when the chapters switched perspective to a different woman, and wasn't sure if this was meant to be a deliberate effect on the reader or not.

My other primary issue was that the final reveal of the conspiracy each of these women were involved in, and that Hazel was using against Nella, was stunning but not necessarily satisfying. By the time its secrets were unraveled, this overarching conspiracy felt almost silly in comparison to the realistic tone the novel already established. Regardless, it does serve to well illustrate not only the ruthless competition that Black women encounter in the workplace, but the exhaustion of enduring it and maintaining agreeable even when encountering massive insensitivity from white coworkers.

The Other Black Girl may not be a debut with perfect execution, but it has a point to make that is worth paying attention to. I would still recommend reading it and look forward to Harris' future works.

Dazzling with imagery and mystery, The Between presents a horror story on multiple fronts that keeps the reader disoriented with every chapter. Due's characters propel the plot, where their rich histories and personalities provide the necessary depth to pull us into their world. The most frightening part of this story is not so much what Hilton is experiencing supernaturally, but how he lacks the knowledge to make sense of it once he realizes that his family is under threat by a racist terrorist who is undoubtedly real. The secret of his dreams unravels slowly, but once revealed, the surrounding unexplainable events instantly line up into a rational narrative, which I appreciate as a reader who aches for stories to make sense.

I highly recommend this book to those interested in unconventional horror novels, but please be warned that the threat of racist violence hangs heavy over the James family throughout most of the book, and the verbal intimidations issued by the perpetrator are more than disturbing to read. If that's something you're able to stomach though, I imagine you will also become quickly engrossed in this story and Due's skill in writing it.

A Kind of Spark is a sparkling debut that will serve to make a whole generation of autistic kids feel less lonely, and never worthless. Addie's story is not only informative in the straightforward ways necessary to increase empathy for autistic people, but shows her learning to make sense of the depth of her emotions and why some narratives affect her so deeply, so that she may own her story and tell it for herself. I'll admit that it took me three tries to get through this book, as the bullying Addie experiences from both her teacher and her peers was so upsetting to read. Yet I think describing these expressions of bigotry is important to guide young people to grow into adults who are primed to recognize ableism in all its manifestations, and prepared to fight against it.

In her older sister Keedie, Addie has her own guide of how to recognize and respond to ableism. Keedie, also autistic, is hinted to have endured even more ableism as a young girl, and serves in her early adulthood as the protective figure Addie needs that she never had herself. I found their relationship extremely endearing and relevant, as there are a number of autistic adults who are so interested in improving the treatment of autistic children because we know that while some things are too late for us, these children still have an opportunity to grow up in a kinder world. Yet as Keedie aptly points out, autistic people of all ages have our valuable perspectives regularly dismissed or met with hatred for a number of paradoxical reasons, and some of us end up permanently institutionalized for our inability to mask as neurotypical. These are difficult and upsetting concepts for children to have to make sense of, but I don't think comprehension is beyond them. A Kind of Spark lays out an age appropriate foundation for young people to see the ableist injustices of today for what they are, an unwinnable system as nonsensical and unacceptable as the witch trials of hundreds of years prior. 

I highly recommend this book to other readers of all ages, and would love to see it added to school reading lists and utilized in the classroom. Though Addie's story has a rough start, it ends on an empowering note reminding those of us who are persecuted for our differences that we are worth having our stories told and remembered. 

I felt that this was a very moving and relatable portrait of the uncertainty and loneliness involved in being trans masculine and learning how to discover yourself. The art and settings were surreal and slightly otherworldly, yet the story still resonated with me for its realistic foundation. I bought this book in a local comics shop because I was intrigued by the cover although I had no idea what it would actually be about, so I feel like I was drawn to it in an almost magical sense. I highly recommend it as the writing, illustration and tackling of personal and difficult subject matter were all well done.

One Million Tiny Fires includes many staples of the horror genre, a couple growing apart from each other, an isolated farmhouse, a growing sense that something strange is occurring, yet its resolution glows with uniqueness. The atmospheric cover of the comic is what originally captured my interest, so I was thrilled that this quality was present throughout the inner illustrations. Franklin has a honed skill for intimate, emotional storytelling with a paranormal hook. As a result, this comic was engaging with a fleshed out tone early on, and retained excellent pacing and sharply memorable images until the final panel. I highly recommend it to others interested in queer horror stories.