3.4444

This dragged quite in the story-building front-middle section and I almost didn’t continue to the end, but I’m stubborn. And I’m glad I finished and will read the sequel to see what comes next.

It is a very looooong story for what it contains, and there is some necessity for the length, but I feel less time might have been spent in certain relationship and more time with dragons.

Honestly, I was close to giving this a 4 when the dragons came into play— but then their part was so limited…

The growth of the main character throughout her journey here is the highlight of the complicated trajectory of her story, and we get a lot of insight into her growth. It is geared to young adults, though the age for this category seems to get older with each publication I read.

I can safely recommend this to students ages 12-18 (some romance, no explicit detail; some war, no gore) with no qualms or reservations, and that's a major positive in the genre.

Ends well, I have to say.

Nothing like listening to a beautiful home accent…(narration by Ruth Urquhart was lovely!) and what an enchanting story. Ross really knows how to weave a complex tale with gorgeous conflicted characters we can connect with and root for… a delicate tapestry of interwoven stories written in beautiful prose. 

An unexpected story that follows the journey of two initially unloveable characters, throwing them into an unlikely relationship that propels them to care for one another, even unto mutual admiration, and giving a chance to a love they might never have known if they’d never taken the leap of faith.

Oddly heartwarming, strangely touching, altogether not quite what I expected—yet thoroughly absorbing and delightful.

A beautiful surprise read.

The premise of the story is a complicated request and an unrequited triangle of love that draws us all the way to the end. Beautifully paced storyline carries us through along side conflicted characters facing impossible situations—and their own complexities. 

A few inconsistencies in the setting made me quirk a brow, but I suppose it’s been written for the Americanised YA audience and not with authenticity to Asian culture at the forefront—though it is an otherwise gorgeous fantasy Asian setting.

Overall, an extremely enjoyable read, adventurous and tragic, with plenty of savoury characters and twisted storylines to keep us guessing—and after that ending, I’m still reeling. 

This is a page turner through all the nostalgia of the late 70s, the 80s and 90s, and all across the map of America, chasing down missing girls and pressing into strangely linked cold cases.

The literary writing, simple language speckled with brilliance, is the gem of this story. The story itself is quite sad, quite ugly. But it is tragic beauty, full of hope and love and brilliant colour. In the midst of tragedy, there are fairytales and pirate adventures and the innocence of children and the sad realities of continued social injustice. 

It doesn’t grip you quite instantly —though it grips you, in a way— but then slowly inches hooks into your heart, and then it steals you away you in the final third and won’t let go until that brilliant end.

And what an ending…

Beautiful prose tells the horrific story of a child navigating the realities of living in a war-torn city during her coming-of-age years.

Zagreb, 1991: Ana is a ten-year-old who wants to live a normal life of adventure and discovery, but the breaking apart of Yugoslavia in violent bloody pieces that shatter her childhood make it difficult for her to play freely and mature naturally.

And then she finds herself gone, adopted by a new culture and a foreign family and wrestling with a deep confusing conflict of soul and identity. The girl is at war within, trying to choose which of her cultures she wants and needs, and to remember the Croatia of her childhood and find herself in the midst of the sanitised rubble. 

A stark emotional journey that takes us into a view of what damage lingers in the heart of those who have grown in these war torn conditions, despite the veneer they may adorn their polished surfaces in the years that follow.

Julia Whelan’s narration delivers a melancholic story with smooth ease, softening the edges yet transmitting the intensity and love of a family in the midst of personal and national tragedy.

The story is character driven, and while there is a plot, it is secondary to the daytime drama of the lives of these unprincipled narcissists that think being famous is the be all and end all—except for one woman who, despite caving to the pressure and falling in with the selfish social scene, manages to find true love in the mediocre mundane of middle America.

It has its surprises and twists, and secret-reveal moments throughout. Patchet is a good storyteller, I just didn’t much like this story.

Meryl Streep makes this drama more dynamic in her performance of the audiobook. 

A cute wee story for mothers and children that draws them together despite the daily conflicts met in the process of growing up. The short narrative addresses the challenge of living in obedience because it’s the best option, and finding independence in the long journey to maturity. 

 

Into the Uncut Grass is a short tale that mothers and children can enjoy together. It traces the adventure of a creative boy as he strikes out to find independence from the rules and schedules that hem him into the comfort and nourishment of home—and choosing what’s best in the end. 

 

Contains a charming insightful personal introduction by Trevor Noah. 

I love an Agatha Christie, and prefer Poirot to some of her other self-proclaimed detectives, but Hercule isn’t at his best here, and neither is Christie. The story doesn’t do much in the way of building a setting that whispers of Hallowe’en, and apart from a party with the veil of a Hallowe’en theme that sets the stage, you don’t even feel the crisp cold air of the shortening days of the end of October anywhere in this story. 

 

A bit of a yucky murder involving a child, and a Hercule ‘procedural’ that unravels more of the backstories of other murders and sticky adult relationships along the way until more present havoc ensues, and then at the despicable climax, Hercule discovers the linchpin that explains the current crime and solves a bunch of tepid cases along the way. 

 

Short enough it doesn’t drag, with plot-serving dialogue and characters that seem familiar but lack flair, and entertaining enough to pass the time, but I’d recommend 40 other Hercule Poirot novels before I’d suggest this one. 

A story of personal reconciliation between son and father that extends to working towards reconciliation of a people and the colonisers of this now shared nation—and even beyond, as a model for reconciliation in our global community.

Wab Kinew writes with sincerity, a vulnerable honesty, openness, and with a genuine spirit of humility and forgiveness. He calls for all these things in the greater community by sharing of this kind of love and forgiveness between himself and his father, and their painful, beautiful journey to an end on this earth.

His is a voice Canadians should stop and listen to… that all would do well to listen to…