Every time I've read a Tiffany D. Jackson book, I've had an intense visceral response. Allegedly was no different.

When Mary was 9 years old, she killed a baby. Allegedly. After six years in "baby jail", she now lives in a challenging group home. She's stayed silent for years, surviving hatred and death threats from the world (it didn't help that Mary is black and the dead child was white). But now, she has her own baby on the way - and she's ready to speak up and tell her side of the story.

I couldn't put this one down. The writing is simple, yet deeply authentic. Mary is such a confusing, compelling, complex character. The dynamics between Mary and the girls in her home, her mother (talk about complicated), and her "boyfriend" Ted were well-developed. 

I also thought the excerpts sprinkled throughout (news articles, paragraphs from books, interview transcripts) were very well done and grounded the story in reality.

This book made me ANGRY. It made my stomach churn & my heart break. I had chills during several high stake moments. It's a difficult, uncomfortable read.

It's got dark insight into & commentary on the juvenile justice system, group homes, child abuse, racism, media frenzies, parental neglect, and more.

That ending .... hmm. I've felt mixed in a similar way about Jackson's other books - that the "twists" at the ending detracted from the story as a whole. I do feel like the set up/groundwork was there for this twist a little more so than in her other books, but it still felt like something thrown in simply to shock readers. This book didn't need that at all.

CW: child death, child abuse, violence, murder, domestic abuse, emotional abuse, mental illness, animal cruelty, animal death, bullying, gaslighting, sexual assault, homophobia, pedophilia, racial slurs, racism

Reread July 2024: Even better on a reread - and so much more stood out to me now that I've read all of their books, including Little Rot. 

Agonizingly relatable. Unapologetic. Their prose is SO good and illuminates so much of my own life and brain. 

Chills the whole way through. Grateful that I'm here at the same time they are publishing books.

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Beautiful. Deeply poetic, deeply vulnerable, and deeply illuminating. 

Having already read most of Emezi's work, this memoir gave me a lot of clarity around the concepts explored in their books (specifically Freshwater). 

CW: suicide attempt, suicidal thoughts, transphobia, rape, sexual assault, mental illness, medical content, dysphoria, grief, infidelity, toxic relationship, chronic illness, self harm

"Did she struggle for life only out of habit, or because some part of her still hoped that there was something worth living for?”

Parable of the Sower illuminated our reality in all of its bleakness. I found that Parable of the Talents expanded on the "what next?" line of thinking, especially as we get a new viewpoint introduced (the adult voice of Lauren's daughter) alongside several others.

Butler is in incredibly skilled writer and offers an honest, unflinching perspective on how those in power harm those they perceive to be beneath them. It's prophetic - well, I suppose it looks both backwards and forwards as these things tend to be cyclical. There's a lot of tough-to-witness violence in this story. 

This is a book that grapples with religion, and so it does make sense that our main POV is combating the religious extremism of her time with teachings of her own. But ... my continual struggle with this series is the development of Earthseed. The theory is compelling (embracing change & understanding that we must support each other through change), but I gritted my teeth throughout every chapter opening - the verse just felt so simplistic. The goal of interstellar journeying was also off-putting (Why is it that humanity must continue to grow among the stars? Why is it the goal to colonize other planets? Lauren makes astute observations about the cyclical nature of war and violence humans inflict upon each other; why would that change if we expand humanity to space?). 

It's like ... so close yet so far. Every other element of the communal society of Acorn was interesting & perhaps healing. Lauren again and again comes to the conclusion that people need each other to survive. It's so close to anti-capitalist learnings. But then it gets muddied up in weak verse and an obsession over spreading her preachy teachings and generating technology to spread amongst the stars. 

Butler introduces several new viewpoints in this book who accurately criticize Earthseed, but Lauren is still meant to be a sympathetic character. And she is sympathetic! More than that - she's strong and fiercely hopeful and smart. It's why I have so much trouble with the Earthseed "teachings" that I have to face at the start of every single chapter.

(I also can't stand the hyperempathy stuff, but that was way less of a highlight in this novel.)

I scrolled through some reviews of this book, and nearly all of them throughout the years talked about how uncomfortable it was to read "now". I read this book the day Roe v. Wade was overturned. I think it would feel prescient at any time, which just speaks to Butler's skill. 

CW: slavery, rape, violence, physical abuse, emotional abuse, murder, death, torture, religious bigotry, trafficking, child abuse, kidnapping, grief, confinement, racism, sexism, hate crime, homophobia, war, pregnancy

"Our world isn't ending. It already ended."

This is a quiet, somber tale of the apocalypse - but from the viewpoint of a group that has already faced exile and devastation and several "world-ending" events. 

We follow Evan, his family, and his isolated Anishinaabe community in northern Canada. They're already quite distant from the rest of the country, and loss of cell service and internet and even power is a fairly normal event (in fact, they've only recently installed a cell tower). When a couple of family members rush back home from the south, they realize that things are falling apart in the wider world. 

Their community is prepared to live off the land, but not everyone has kept in touch with traditional skills. When a group of white strangers arrive, things quickly become uneasy and then downright dangerous.

The plot is simplistic, and this is mostly a character-driven piece. I appreciated the glimpse into culture and spirit and the take on the end of the world from an indigenous point of view. 

While the world feels deeply authentic, the writing itself was very dry. The premise is so compelling that I was disappointed when the prose wasn't rich at all. I didn't feel like I got nearly enough insight into the minds of the characters, and many felt unchanged from start to finish. 

Though we have a wide range of personality types (many reflective of how current societal groups have reacted to our current pandemic - and this novel was written in 2018!), many of the side characters felt too similar to each other. Within this group of smaller characters, it was often difficult to remember who was who. The villain was also a bit stereotypical - a hulking, scary bad guy without any sort of history or clear motivations.

Ultimately, I felt like this short, sad piece asked a lot of compelling questions (such as: how do indigenous communities stay connected with their identities - that have so often been ripped from them - in a modern world? who is best prepared to survive an apocalyptic event?), but the follow through wasn't quite enough for me.

CW: gun violence, death, murder, violence, animal death, cannibalism, alcoholism, suicide, racism

Is it weird to call a book from the POV of a serial killer "fun"? 'Cause this was. 

We follow Dr. Scarlett Clark, an English professor with a peculiar hobby - murdering evil men. Don't worry: from her perspective, they certainly all deserve what they get. 

This is the bisexual revenge fantasy thriller of your dreams (or nightmares). It's filled with dark humor and vigilantism and queer angst. It's beyond devourable. 

If you are someone who struggles to stay engaged while reading - this may be your cure. The chapters were SUPER short (typically no more than 5 pages) and most end on a cliffhanger as we switch between POVs. It's like a cheeky drama show cutting to commercials. You've got to keep going!

There was a twist. I guessed it immediately. It didn't lessen my enjoyment in any way.

Is this some deep, nuanced take on sexual violence and rape culture and gender dynamic? Not really. It's not subtle at all. It's just for kicks. And it was a REALLY fun way to spend an afternoon. (I'd watch this show. Give me a show!)

CW: murder, death, sexual assault, violence, sexual harassment, rape, blood, sexism, misogyny, abuse, stalking, toxic relationship, fire, vomit, infidelity, bullying, drugging

A deeply unsettling domestic thriller with a sci fi twist.

Evelyn's a revolutionary scientist with a rapidly-blossoming career, thanks to her work around human clones. But she wasn't perfect enough for her husband, Nathan - who copied her research to create a new & improved wife. When Nathan winds up dead, Evelyn is forced to forge an uncomfortable alliance with her clone to protect her work.

I've seen The Echo Wife compared to Westworld quite a bit; but for me the ethical tangle of this novel is a bit darker. In Westworld we are looking at robots - incredibly lifelike robots who develop emotional depth and humanity, sure - but creatures made up of technological components. Here, we're getting human clones. Forged in a lab, but fully human. So (at least for me), the fact that everyone is comfortable dismissing them as assets is peculiar. 

While the story is a thriller at its core, it has quite a bit of philosophical depth. How are our identities created? Can they be manipulated? What does it mean to be human - where is that invisible line? How are we shaped by cycles of abuse, and is it possible to break free from those cycles?

This is a character-driven work, and although it has moments of rapid intensity, there's a lot of sitting around & talking. If you can't stand slower paced books, you will probably dislike this. There's a lot of stillness for such a short novel (~250 pages).

The other major downfall here was the "science". It was murky and a bit nonsensical and the worldbuilding was lacking. What exactly was the intended use of the clones from Evelyn's research (there are a few scattered examples, but I was left with more questions than answers). Why wasn't she examining the icky ethics of her work - and if not her, why wasn't anyone else questioning it?

The most thoughtful aspect of the book was the portrayal of abuse in its many forms. We get glimpses into Evelyn's past as a child in an abusive household and see how that has shaped her emotionally & behaviorally & ethically. 

CW: murder, death, domestic abuse, blood, medical content, infidelity, emotional abuse, toxic relationship, body horror, gaslighting, child abuse, pregnancy

Sundial is a twisted, dark, psychological horror novel. Catriona Ward has a unique imagination and way of evoking unease through her storytelling. This is one of those books that I read in one sitting, put away to let things simmer, and then leapt out of the shower in a maddening haze with fresh theories. It's a novel that will sink its teeth into you and leave you disturbed and trembling.

The setup is an unassuming tale of domestic dysfunction, though it soon elevates and spirals into the realm of horror. We follow Rob, an English teacher & mother struggling with her deeply unstable family. Her husband Irving is abusive and dangerous, her older daughter Callie has been acting strange, and her younger daughter Annie is sweet and frail. 

Callie has begun to display some peculiar & disturbing behavior - she's collecting and displaying animal bones, talking to imaginary creatures, and may wish to harm her little sister. Rob feels she must take action and flees with Callie to Sundial - her family's compound in the Mojave desert - in an attempt to improve their bond and understand Callie's behavior. (Irving wholeheartedly disagrees.)

Once they arrive, the plot expands in a flash and Rob's tumultuous history is slowly revealed. As dark secrets come to light, Rob knows she's at a critical decision point for her family's safety.

We as readers are constantly being manipulated, tossed back and forth by the unreliability of the characters’ minds. Catriona Ward is skilled at sharing little specific moments that illuminate the core of a person (thinking of the French restaurant scene here). Though are a lot of plot threads, it is overall a straightforward story. 

 
The setting is excellent - you feel the grittiness and expansiveness of the desert. The depiction of the Sundial compound is also really well done; I could picture every part of it.

One of the big thematic questions is nature vs nurture, specifically in regards to violent impulses . Some of the characters tackle this through extreme medical experimentation (huge trigger warning for animal cruelty & death, specifically with dogs). Though many of the actual instances of cruelty happen "offscreen", please be wary if you are sensitive to depictions of animal harm. 

The one section of the books I couldn’t quite get behind were Rob’s fictional inserts. I understood why she was writing them (an emotional outlet and a safe place to unpack guilt and trauma), but I wasn’t sure why we needed to read them or how they were meant to enhance the story. Yeah, yeah, they're metaphors, and I suppose they offered some foreshadowing, but I much preferred the “in-story” clues and action. 

 

A second gripe would be the character of Irving - in a book with so much richness, he stands out as a flat villain. If we’d gotten even a morsel of his history or thought patterns or any additional depth, he would have been a more believable antagonist.

Overall - I enjoyed Sundial (if enjoyed is even the right word to describe the experience). I'll be chewing on these concepts for a while (I have some THEORIES!). 

 

CW: animal cruelty, animal death, animal medical experimentation (extreme - involving dogs), death, murder, self harm, blood, child abuse, emotional abuse, gaslighting, physical abuse, medical trauma, grief, infidelity, mental illness, miscarriage, pregnancy, self harm

A breathtaking end to the series. I felt every loss in my bones. A brutal depiction of war with a deeply compelling set of characters. 

"I am the force of creation. I am the end and the beginning. The world is a painting and I hold the brush. I
am a god.”

R.F. Kuang is SO gifted.

This whole series is incredibly dark; please check content warnings.

CW: murder, death (including child death), blood, violence, war, genocide, drug use, fire, animal death, animal cruelty, colonisation, addiction, body horror, cannibalism, grief, racism, rape, religious bigotry, vomit, confinement, alcohol, suicide

Brilliant. Chills. No time to write a review - gotta pick up the final book right away!

CW: violence, rape, death, murder, genocide, war, suicidal thoughts, abortion, drug use, addiction, animal death, forced institutionalization, colorism, racism, body horror, religious bigotry, vomit

I'm sitting here with chills and a deep sense of awe. Akwaeke Emezi has such skill, such lyricism, and such a unique way of sharing their truths. The writing is just ... mind blowing.

Check content warnings (I shared a list below) as this book includes some difficult & upsetting scenes, but outside of that care for yourself I recommend going in with a blank, open mind.

This is a story of identity, and trauma, and finding one's spirituality. I recommend reading Emezi's essays/interviews and delving a bit into Igbo culture and mythology in under to gain a better understanding of the content. 

CW: self harm, rape, suicide attempt, suicidal thoughts, mental illness, blood, toxic relationship, eating disorder, panic attacks, child abuse, physical abuse, car accident, homophobia, transphobia, infidelity