I thought this was... okay? Not a bad book by far, and quite a few funny and poignant moments alike, but I admit I kept getting distracted by other reads. I suspect I never quite connected with the main character. Related to him, yes; Wren's messy brain is totally relatable, and I could empathize with his post-college struggles of figuring out his life, but I kept running into trouble I couldn't quite put a finger on. Maybe it's the fact that movies are supposed to be his big passion, and yet I never quite *felt* that? I don't even know why. He thought a lot about movies, and in movies terms. The plot is, in a way, quite movies-focused (or, well, drive-in cinema-focused and one-specific-movie-focused). But... huh. I don't know. Maybe I expected his way of thinking to be more visual? For him to more often spot not just the shadows of narrative beats in real life, but also the more visual medium-specific details? I think maybe it was something from that area.

The romance was quite and so slow-burn even I sometimes wanted to speed things along a little bit. But mostly, I appreciated the slow development! It was nice to see the leads rekindle their friendship before they went further. I also enjoyed the demi rep, although I agree with another reviewer that there was a tiny bit of an "after school special" to that one revelatory talk. Funnily enough, I think the effect would be mitigated if it wasn't a "Congratulations, you're probably demi!" one, but a broader, "have you ever thought you might find your spot under the ace umbrella" one. On one hand, maybe that would make it even more of a "let's pause the narrative and have a fun lecture" moment, on the other hand, depends on how it would be handled. Another thing that felt a bit "not enough" for me was Derick's entire poor rich boy arc. Yes, to be fair, some foreshadowing was present from his very first in-person appearance on the page! But it got shoved into the background somehow (maybe just because Wren, for all his fixation on Derick, wasn't paying enough attention?), and so it felt like Derick kept the issues he was facing too close to his chest for 3/4 of the book and then started dishing them out all at once.

The secondary characters and the plot threads involving them were where the book really shined for me. I adored Alice and her story. I really liked Wren's interactions with his boss and with Oscar. And Wren's housemates were adorables and the problems and solutions in his relationship with them, especially Mateo, were super relatable and well-handled. I also enjoyed the parts focused on the importance of clear communication and all the scenes where various characters admitted to being wrong and found ways to move forward from it—such a good message to send, and it felt organic to the story every time.

I am now even more invested in Chepi's and Janek's journey—and I was already pretty damn invested from the first few pages of Volume I! In this volume, the two are gradually growing closer, which seems like a good thing... Except it's a painful thing, too, because of all of Chepi's jagged edges. Janek remains just as supportive and understanding and genuinely wanting to help make things better, but he also struggles with his own growing feelings and the differences in their backgrounds. Needless to say, things get complicated. There are some awkward moments, some "oh no!" moments, and some moments that made me tear up. But there's also plenty of mutual care and support and beautiful hurt/comfort scenes.

There are some deeper dives into Chepi's past here, and I loved finding out that it wasn't all angst—there are people in his memories who have sincerely cared for him and made him happier. Those parts were really heart-warming. And the comic continues to provide likely the most sensitive representation of anxiety and post-abuse ptsd I've seen in this medium. I'm still in awe of the art—it keeps getting better and better—and the gradually developing worldbuilding. It's beginning to feel like the events we're witnessing as readers are happening on the fringes of a bigger story, and the stakes in that shadowy plot out there are getting higher.

The volume ends at a place that pretty much guarantees I will read on as soon as possible: on the very precipice of something new, and ith as all the potential to be a good new, but who knows how it will play out? 

👀 And then there's also that one big un-answered question that's already haunting me...

Wow, this is an incredibly hard book to rate. On one hand, I almost automatically five-starred it simply for how it is written. I'm in awe of what the author has done with the narrative and the structure. All the POV work alone, and the whole story within a story/world within a world thing—I have no words. And the prose is so eloquent and intricate, too. Honestly, the shape of the story is so masterfully constructed, it's unbelievable. I took so many notes while I was reading. It's a novel, but it's also kind of a play, and a massive mythic folk tale, and OMG, I wish I knew how to make language and structure do such magic.

On the other hand, when it comes to the essence of the story... Well, the longer I sit here, having finished it, the more I start feeling that it got a little lost under all the structural twists and curves. It was hard for me to connect with any of the characters, despite finding Jun's and Keema's journey really poignant. But it wasn't poignant in a way that made me perceive the characters as semi-real people existing at the intersection of the author's imagination and my own, as a reader. It was more like... the central themes of war and power and the impact they have? They shone really brightly through these characters' interactions, and the characters served their purpose really well as elements of the narrative. I don't know if I can explain it any better at this point.

Also, as I look back at the central plot, I feel like it was... maybe even a little bit less interesting than the framing device part, or at least some of the things the framing device part kept hinting at? If it wasn't for the structure, it would be fairly predictable, and it's more than a little slow. On the other hand, it sure was constructed in a way that showed off a lot of really amazing and skillful worldbuilding with plenty of original elements. But it still felt like what the story is came second to how it's told, and I'm not sure I'm a fan of this approach. At the same time, I do feel that the way the story's told is unique, beautiful, and also kind of makes all the darkness within the pages easier to bear (and trust me, there's a lot of darkness within these pages). When you're constantly figuring out the new angle to witness the narrative from, all the gore and the pain becomes just a little more artificial. Something that can't touch you on its own, but can be a vehicle to bring the themes home. Is that a good thing? Damn if I know. Maybe it's simply a little too litfic for my reading habits?..

This was a super fun read with just the right balance of adventure, humor, and romance. I liked the twists the author put on the chosen one trope, as well as many other tropes common for the fantasy genre. It wasn't anything completely novel and expectations-defying, but there were plenty of little worldbuilding moments that stood out to me, and overall, the story felt fresh and quirky.

Kell was a great character to embark on this journey with. Maybe he lingered a little too long on the 'it must be a dream' explanation, but hey, it's not every day you find yourself in a trope-y fantasy world, so I'll cut him so slack. It was interesting to follow his struggle against destiny and his attempts to figure out how to go about his future. I also really loved how genre-savvy he was and his insistence on keeping his own story on appropriate narrative tracks. :D I'm not sure I completely bought the greysexual rep here, but hey, I exist under a different part of the asexual umbrella, so don't take me on my word. 

The romantic storyline consisted mainly of cuteness, mutual pining, and dramatic misunderstandings that were reasonably well-rooted in the characters' respective backgrounds. There was also a great supporting cast with a team dynamic gradually developing some nice fantasy vibes. 

Al in all, while this isn't going on the list of the most memorable books I've ever read, the story is highly enjoyable and I would recommend it to anyone looking for something quick and fun to relax with. Fair warning: it doesn't really start that way, since Kell is in a pretty dreary place before he gets transported into the fantasy world, but just wait until he steps into that first dungeon!

I have a kind of complex relationship with Seanan McGuire's books at this point. On one hand, whenever I'm asked to list my favorite authors, I still includ her every time; a lot of her novels have certainly helped form the person I am, and one of them literally saved my life once. On the other hand, over the last couple of years I've been feeling a lot of... disconnect, I guess, when it comes to her more recent books? It's like her stories are becoming a bit too long, big, and sprawling for my liking—and I mean both the scope of the series she's working on and the individual installments within them. I keep wanting for these stories to get more direction, to get tightened up maybe, and that prevents me from freely enjoying them, much as I still adore the author's characters and prose. That's why I'm so incredibly behind on so many series.








😅

Rose Marshall's series has always been special to me, though, not least because it has always felt more focused. Which is kind of funny since it's an offshoot from InCryptid—the single McGuire's series I've had some trouble with from the start instead of beginning to feel lost half a dozen of books in. But the first two books barely felt like they were related to InCryptid at all, neither thematically nor in terms of exploring a whole different part of the setting. Sparrow Hill Road remains one of my favorite ghost books to date, and I very much loved The Girl in the Green Gown. So I expected, despite all of the complications mentioned above, to love Angel of the Overpass, as well.

And... well, I did and I didn't. For once, this actually felt very much like an InCryptid novel. While it's undeniably a continuation of Rose's previous adventures, it's also very much a sequel to This Ain't Witchcraft, and I feel like it borrowed a lot of the parent series' vibes. The narrative felt... a litle all over the place, I guess? There were the key beats that did move the plot forward steadily, but between those beats, the story kept going off on loosely related tangents, wild (though fun and interesting!) things kept happening, and yeah, they mostly tied in with the main plot thread eventually, but they also felt distractive. This weirdly felt less focused than book 1, which was literally a collection of stories put together into something vaguely novel-shaped.

At the same time, there was so much cool stuff there. The worldbuilding, as ever, left me wishing I could read multiple standalones set in this world, centered around different kind of ghosts, like maybe a book about some midnight beauty, and a book about some homesteader, etc. Also, I'd love something routewitches-centric! It was also awesome to dive into this sort of cozy horror movie atmosphere this series does so well.

Rose herself was a joy to hang out with, and I loved how some of the lingering questions and worries I've had in the past have been explicitly addressed. Like, the whole Gary and Rose plot? I've had thoughts about it, and I was excited to see that Rose has been having very similar thoughts about it, as well. Also, Rose has always struck me as someone very kind and very angry at the same time, and in the previous books the anger part was... well, not downplayed exactly, but kind of kept in the shadows. It was highly satisfying to see it take center stage here, and to see it have consequences that I thought were really logical and fair, and at the same time they surprised me and left me feeling bittersweet. Oh, and the whole revenge plot kept me invested throughout—Bobby Cross had it coming for so damn long.

If given another chance to delve into Rose's world, I wouldn't say no. But I also feel like this book is a very satisfactory point to end her story on, although not her journey. The road always goes on, doesn't it?

This is an absolutely lovely story about two people making their way through the woods together, getting to know each other better, stumbling, picking themselves and each other up, and very slowly but inevitably falling for each other. It's heartwarming and optimistic in the best possible way; the message isn't, "Look, all is sunny and no bad things happen, ever, as long as we have each other!" but rather, "Bad things have happened; some of the world we live in sucks; but it's still sunny, and we can heal, and we can move forward." It's very hopepunk, I would say.

The art is impossibly gorgeous. I have literally no words to express how beautiful and moving it is—just go see for yourself. I can't believe this started life as a webcomic and is still available online completely for free! I very much appreciated the fat rep: one of the main characters is unopologetically big and that doesn't stand in the way of him just... being himself. Living his life. Tracking through the woods and climbing rocks and being part naked when appropriate (no NSFW content here, btw, at least not in this volume—I'm talking about some washing up in a stream :)). 

Speaking of rep, I loved the honest, sensitive depiction of being an abuse survivor and the struggles with opening up to other people and, in a way, to yourself after an experience like that. I can say the same about the depiction of nightmares and panic attacks. I recognized a lot of my own experiences in Chepi's, and some details actually hit home so hard that they had the potential to be triggering—except in every such scene, there was Janek, providing such excellent support and comfort that the scenes turned out soothing instead.

I must also note all the bits of big-scale worldbuilding gradually inserted into the small, private plot with just two characters. I can't wait to get to know more about the setting! Like, what did those dark creatures mean about the Elder? How will Janek's homeland prove different from the Empire in regards to how the fae are treated, and will it? And can I get even more details about the magic system, and the academic parts, and Chepi's family's hierarchy? So intrigued by so much of this.

This book, for me, was mostly vibes. Lots of excellent quality vibes, but don't ask me to tell you anything about the plot—I won't be able to. I mean, there were some cool dialogue scenes that had parts that still echo in my head. And there were some absolutely amazing, wondrously horrible lovecraftian snapshots of other realms. And there were lots of not-so-good feelings, written in an overwhelmingly engrossing way. But what actually happened, or what was the point of any of it? I'm not sure I know.

Max Gladstone's prose is hauntingly beautiful—I was able to appreciate it even listening to the novel as an audiobook (it's normally harder for me to process prose that way), and I actually want to re-read Last Exit as a regular ebook one day, just to enjoy the prose even more and maybe to make sense of something else. The way the narrative's constructed, though, was endlessly confusing. The time and space kept swapping around. One moment we would be firmly in Zelda's feelings-filled head, and then there would be a paragraph from an omniscient narrator out of the blue. Some parts dragged, a few whooshed past. There was a lot of focus on some details that were framed like they would be important to the narrative at some point, but they never were; at the same time the things that were (probably? maybe?) crucial were often glossed over.

I'm not really complaining about any of the above; this confusion actually added to the vibes. When I treated the novel as less a sequence of events and more of a randomized chaos of the MC's reactions to events from past and present, it was a beautiful experience, for the most part. But I came out of it feeling a little lost, and like I hardly knew any of the characters as people (though I sure know how they feel about some things?).

Once again, it's possible that part of it is coming from my relationship with the audiobook format. I think I've gotten better at processing audiobooks lately, but I still get distracted from them way more easily than when I'm reading the regular way, and I also often only have the time to listen to them in bed, when I'm already getting sleepy. So I think I'll almost definitely re-read this novel at some point and see if my impression differs.

If anything, I'll get another helping of the vibes. The vibes are top-notch.

This was firmly an okay book for me! I had a few fun evenings with hit, laughed at plenty of lines, got a big helping of The Feels, and overall enjoyed the characters, the banter, and the relationship. I liked how all the misunderstandings between Wes and Jamie were firmly grounded into the experiences that shaped each of their personalities and it was very clear why they couldn't immediately see things each other's way. At the same time, at some point I got a little tired of how much effort it kept costing them to actually talk things out instead of sweeping them under the rug and hoping for whatever. Especially because it was so clear that whenever they did let each other in, they worked wonderfully together.

I also liked how the main story intersected with the characters' memories of their shared teenage year—not just the event that pushed them apart for a long while, but also all the little things that brought them together in the first place. The side plots with the teenagers they were coaching and all the little moments around the camp were nice additions: entertaining and adding to the central storyline instead of distracting from it. I liked how the sex scenes were written—fun and hot and ultimately pushing the character arcs along instead of just existing for the hotness. Oh, and one more thin: I really liked Holly, even though she was supposed to be a bit of a threat to the MCs' relationship. :D

I appreciated how the story made a point of how homophobia sucks and how people can and should do better, even/especially in the competitive masculine sports environments, though I did feel it got a bit preachy on at least one occasion. At the same time, there was some oddness about how Wes treated Jamie's bi awakening that made me uncomfortable, and sometimes I felt the vibe there bordered on biphobic. "OMG, I hoped he might be bi, but I saw him about to enthusiastically have sex with a girl!" — well, how does that prove he's not bi? Having romantic and sexual relationships with the opposite gender is PART of the bi experience, not a contradiction! There was also a lot of small bits casual misogyny. Like, did you know there are two approaches to confusing mornings after: the chick way, where you actually talk things out with words, and the dude way, where you stew in your own feelings and act like nothing happened and maybe actually hurt yourself and the other person by all the extra confusion? And "the chick way" is somehow supposed to be worse. Ugh. Toxic masculinity makes so little sense when you look at it closely!

This was a really fun little book! I just wish—to nobody's surprise, I am sure—it was a little bit longer, because while I can't really complain about the character development or the sense I got for the setting, there was a point around the middle where the relationship development felt seriously rushed. It sort of evened out later on, though, and I got rather invested in Jamie's and Tad's up and downs.

What I really enjoyed was the author's take on a city full of superheroes and supervillains. A lot of it was super goofy and occasionally laugh-out-loud funny: all the cartoonish violence, inexplicable gadgets, nefarious plans that never work, and making sure the superhero heading off to fight a giant pasta monster isn't gluten-intolerant. However, underneath the veneerer of comedy, there were some serious explorations of the realistic consequences of all those comic book tropes, such as the impact the supers' fights can have on civilians. Somehow, the two tones co-existed comfortably, never clashing or diminishing each other.

I also liked, in no particular order, the more corporate side of the superhero business, Jamie's relationship with his mother, and Jamie's entire personality, period. Oh, and the initial meet-cute between the two leads: it was funny, it set off sparks, and it had a bit of wonderful foreshadowing that only got obvious in hindsight.

It always sucks to be disappointed in a book that has so many things going for it that I absolutely love. The setting is full of mysteries and wonders; I was fascinated by the way all the gods-related worldbuilding was handled. The characters are pretty cool, too; I especially loved Elo and his backstory with King Arren, but I also really felt for Kissen, Inara, and Skedi in equel measure. I loved how diverse this book is, especially all the disability rep. And at the same time, I really didn't like the story.

It's not that it's bad. On the contrary, the premise and the sequel hook at the end and multiple isolated parts of the journey between are all pretty cool! But it's like all the separate character arcs never blended into a single whole for me. The narrative often got bogged down in small details that obscured the things that really mattered, and the pacing alternated between painfully slow and super rocky. I can't really complain about the writing style, but it did little to immerse me.

To be honest, I'm now kind of wishing I could read another story set in this unique world, and probably even with the same characters (especially Elo and Kissen), but like... with a different plot? Maybe at a different point in their lives? Because honestly, even though the main plot got somewhat interesting in the final third of the book, I kept feeling like Elo's and Kissen's backstories / pasts had me more invested in them than the journey they were actually overtaking.