I really enjoyed Never Ever Getting Back Together by Sophie Gonzales earlier this month, and it kind of made me crave more teenage messiness. So when I was looking through the unread books on my ereader and spotted this one by the same author, I felt compelled to crack it open. It didn't 100% scratch the itch because the characters here are just a bit younger and everything is so very high school—I think I liked the mixture of teenage angst and reality tv glitz and glamour a bit better, or maybe it was just more refreshing. But overall, this book is exactly what it promises to be, and it was a really fun reading experience with just the right cocktail of drama and laugh-out-loud quips.

I honestly really like how Sophie Gonzales writes teenagers. She just really, really captures that time when you're already dealing with the big, complex, difficult things, but you don't yet have the experience nor the mental capacity to handle them, so you keep making things worse for yourself in the name of self-preservation and catastrophizing all the wrong parts of the situation and just. You know. Overall living and growing and learning. There's a fine line, I feel, between encapsulating those authentic big emotions and going over the top for drama's sake, and this author walks it beautifully.

One thing I specifically appreciated were all the side characters and how all of them had their own deals and troubles that drove their choices. Some of them—Lara in particular—almost overshadowed the main plotline for me at times. Though Ollie, the MC, consistently drew my attention to his own drama for sure, what with his charming sense of humor and love for music (I really enjoyed all of the music parts in the book, by the way). All in all, this was fun and touching, if a little predictable.

I found this volume more engaging than the first, but also way more depressing. I'm not sure what turn I expected the story to take immediately after the introductory phase that the first part was, but what I got was a deep dive into all the characters in the main group. Given that I'm an absolute sucker for character-driven stories and internal conflicts driving the external plot, I wholeheartedly approve. But damn, all of these people are sure miserable. And for the most part, they've brought it all on themselves. Angela is perhaps the easiest character to empathize is for me because she at least owns her messiness; Ash is the most compelling to follow, because damn.

Despite the focus being on the characters and on filling the reader in on the specifics of their past, the main plot advances, too, if slowly. Just like the title of the volume suggests, the party is split here, and that pretty much always leads to some meandering in actual games. I really appreciate how there are all these nods to the familiar ttrpg structure—it's hard to nail the specifics of interactive storytelling in a non-interactive medium, and the authors here aren't trying to do it 100%, but they do enough to make it recognizable and I like the result. I also like all the outright meta commentary about storytelling and tropes and characters.

Oh, and the way the worldbuilding grows around the story and the characters? Excellent. The Brontё twist in particular was wild, I want more.

Getting into this book was initially a bit of a challenge because of how repetitive the writing was in the early chapters. While I can appreciate the stylistic effect the author was aiming for, constantly seeing entire passages basically twice with a bit of  variation just made my brain check out. This approach to comparing and contrasting the two MCs was fun on the first time and tolerable on the third, but after a few pages it was just. Overkill territory.

Once Avery and Zib were out of their ordinary town and over the wall, though, and the story kicked off in earnest, the prose turned a lot more engaging and easy to follow. It was from that point on that I started getting hooked. The worldbuilding here is an absolute delight: a dark, twisted version of Oz, basically, with the Tarot-themed monarchs and the kind of logic that works precisely because it shouldn't. Technically, it's a tie-in for Seanan McGuire's adult urban fantasy Middlegame, and I feel like while I've caught a few clever connections, I've missed a lot more (it's been years since I read that one). But I feel like this book works on its own pretty well. It also feels at least loosely related to the Wayward Children series, if only because of the "portal fantasy + kids" theme, but also there are just... *gestures vaguely* Vibes. There's nothing that explicitly proves the Up-and-Under fits into that specific cluster of words, but also, if Avery and Zib turned up at Eleanor West’s Home for Wayward Children after their adventures, I feel they wouldn't be out of place.

What really captivated me was how the narrative plays with storytelling conventions in so many ways. The Hero's Journey structure is there in full view, almost on the nose, and then at crucial moments there are small, clever twists that keep it intact but also infuse the whole thing with new meanings. I also liked that kind of self-aware nature of the narrative, with all the asides about the nature of stories and how they work. I do wonder if this book truly makes a good middle grade story, though, because I thought that many of the elements I found most engaging might fly over kid readers' heads. Then again, perhaps I'm not giving kids enough credit. And surely there are some more whimsical elements of the book that I kind of glossed over while lapping up the meta commentary parts.

This book certainly retains a lot of the charm of the previous two in the series. However, I'm sad to say it left me somewhat less engrossed. Perhaps even—*gasp*—a little detached. I appreciate how the author once again found a new way to play with the story-within-a-story structure and explore the nature of storytelling. However, in this case, I feel like the selected narrative devices and methods didn't fit the confines of a novella. With the narrative being less focused, it begged for some room to breathe, and 100 pages just can't deliver much of that. There were definitely parts of the book that I adored, the ones where the special essence of the Riverlands came to the forefront, and I would have so loved to spend more time journey through this region and getting to know the tapestry of stories it's made of. The lack of it feels almost like a missed opportunity.

On the other hand, it was lovely to see more of Chih and to witness them coming more into their own as an actual character and not just the one who records others' stories. I really liked seeing them contemplate the concepts the narrative is made of, question things that appeared unquestionable before, come to their own conclusion. And Almost Brilliant, the best bird, is back again here, too! Somehow, their interactions with Chih here were even more compelling to me than in the first novella. I also adore how the setting continues to be so vibrant and rich and layered. No matter how I felt about the plot in this book, I continue loving the series and am looking forward to further explorations of storyteling in the next installments.

I somehow didn't realize this was a YA book going in. I'm sure I knew it at some point back when I bought it, but my brain refused to retain this information. So I was a tiny bit disappointed at first to be faced with all the late-teens messiness... up until I got a few chapters in and, wow, yay! Late-teens messiness! Excellently well-done and so dramatic and just what a reality show book should be! Honestly, I just loved it so much. Even though I do still feel that the whole "second chance romance! the one that got away!" premise of the reality show in the middle of it all makes little sense when most of the characters are 18-ish. Like, how does a guy that age already have that many exes for the producers to pick and choose from? Wouldn't it overall make more sense to create this type of show with people in their mid-twenties and beyond who already have some histories and baggage? Really, the premise is shaky when you think about it too hard, and yet the execution was so entertaining it got me to suspend my disbelief.

Even though this book has a Swiftie title, the songs that played in the back of mind as I read were definitely Olivia Rodrigo's (mostly Vampire and Deja Vu, if you're curious). Considering that the teen celebrity drama that inspired the book's idea, according to Sophei Gonzales's post about it on Goodreads, was the Olivia-Sabrina-Joshua triangle, I'd say it speaks well of the author's ability to capture the vibes. 

A lot of the plot here hinges on various miscommunications, and normally, I'm wary of the trope, but here, it just works so well. Not really in the "all of their reasons to miscommunicate make rational sense" way, but more like, "half the time they'll all being so messy and petty and overdramatic, and yeah, I can see how that's exactly the point." Interestingly enough, somehow most of the characters work through it all toward sharing a bunch of genuine, empathetic moments, and those ended up blending surprisingly well with the drama. I really liked how, in spite of the whole premise being "show business pits girls against girls for the sake of entertainment," these girls all found their own ways to bond and grow and be so much more than accessories to the guy in the middle of it all. I was particularly proud of Kim's choices revealed very very late in the book.

The romance itself was pretty cute with some serious moments. I liked how Maya's issues overlapped with Skye's and how their relationship got them to inspect and evaluate a bunch of their choices. I also liked how easy to tell apart their voices were in the early part of the book. Unfortunately, that was something that didn't quite last through the entire book. In some ways, it made sense they would pick up some turns of phrase and such from each other while spending time in such close quarters. But it felt more like an overall blending of two previously distinct voices, and I guess I would have liked a bit more editing to prevent that.

I had such high hopes for this book, but for the most part, it just kind of left me confused. I think it's because of certain structural choices, especially in the beginning. There's this prologue (I don't care it's called Chapter 1 when it is, for all intents and purposes, a prologue) that introduces a character in a stressful, emotionally charged, obviously high-stakes situation, provides a glimpse of his personal history, and makes the reader wonder what happens next. Then it ends, and we get to meet the actual leads in a situation that is a lot more mundane, sort of awkward, and involves lots and lots of telling about the magic system. And apparently the character from the yes-that's-a-prologue is basically just a plot device to build a mystery around. Though of course the mystery is now undermined by the information given away in the definitely-a-prologue-whatever-you-call-it.

Honestly, I feel this beginning did the story a huge disservice. It also kind of undermined Robin and Edwin, the actual protagonists, for a while there. At least for me. Instead of just, you know, meeting them on the page and getting to know them and becoming invested, I felt let down by their presence because they weren't really offering me what the beginning of the book teased. And the structural problems didn't fully stop there, they just became less glaring. But honestly, the balance between the romance and the mystery was rather off at times, and the relationship felt kind of oddly paced, as if the author really, really wanted to rush the slow burn but stopped herself from doing so for some reason. Or, well, that was the vibe for me.

I did really enjoy the worldbuilding, especially the magic system. It's intricate and fascinating and has some great depth. The main characters, once I got over that "let down" feeling, were really fun to follow. I empathized with Robin a lot, and Edwin had some beautiful moments. I overall enjoyed how the "opposites attract" trope was handled here. The journey had its pacing-related hiccups, but the ending still felt well-earned. And the external plot also delivered its share of interesting moments. It was just that, sadly, I had to constantly make an effort to stay in the loop, and I attribute it mainly to the book's structural flaws overlapping with my usual "fix it" attitude. I loved the idea of it, I just kept thinking about ways to tweak the execution.

I'm not sure why it took me so long to get through this book. Every time I picked it up, I really enjoyed it, but the moment I got distracted, I put it away so thoroughly it took me days to come back for another few chapters. I guess for the most part that was just some discrepancy between the story and my mental state, because really, this is a super nice cozy fantasy.  Pretty much everything I expect from the genre: books, cooking, picturesque setting, a close-knit community, and a semi-distant threat of actual big real world problems that provides a looming shadow over the quaint sweetness, turning it from an unrelatable utopia into a reminder that we can carve out these islands of peace and hope even in the dark\ times.

I really enjoyed the more whimsical elements of the worldbuilding: the anxious living plant friend, the winged cats, the merhorses. The magic system was pretty fun, and Kiela's attempts to nail the spellwork resulted in some nearly laugh-out-loud moments for me. Oh, and Kiela herself was a great protagonist. I've seen reviews calling her stuff like "purposefully unlikable at first, but gets better," and that kind of breaks my heart, because come onnnn. How is she all that unlikable? She's just a socially awkward bookworm who doesn't know how to do this people thing! It takes her some time, as well as trial and error, to be brave enough to commit to it! There's nothing wrong with not knowing how to people, especially when you're also dealing with, you know, your whole life having burned around you. :( 

All that said, the book wasn't entirely without faults for me. There was a point around the middle when the story kind of started meandering, as if the narrative itself wasn't sure of its direction. And then there's this weird thing about the romantic plotline (which I otherwise really liked). How does Kiela not remember Larran? She wasn't *that* young when her parents took her away from the island. Idk, this detail just kept bugging me throughout the story, even when it was no longer being mentioned.

But, yeah. All in all, this was great, and I might even reread it one day when I'm either less anxious all the time or experience a different vibe of anxiety that lets me get more in tune with cozy reads like this.

This book sounded like something I was practically doomed to love, but alas, it didn’t quite work out between us. Mostly because it was so full of unlikable people who, with one single exception, committed the crime of also being thoroughly unentertaining. Like, seriously, reading about bad people doing bad things for bad reasons is a special sort of drug, but they must be compelling. They must be three-dimensional. They must be, in some ways that make me question too much about myself, relatable. Or at the very least, they should be fun.

Here, we’ve got an oddly small, claustrophobic political full of people who don’t give a damn about any of the causes they supposedly champion, and they’re all so, so boring. Like, completely flat. I suppose Lennie has her moments, a couple of times, but those are also the times when she’s very openly used as a plot device and the entertainment comes from what she does, not who she is. It is highly unclear why she does it. Beyond the fact that she probably wants power, but why, to what end, with which nuances? Inquiring minds shall never know.

The one actually interesting unlikable character here is Thom, the MC, and he’s the one who fully carried the first half of the novel for me. He’s just a complete sociopathic bastard with so many layers of coldness, ruthlessness, callousness and fake charm to him, and I just wanted to dig into those layers and see if there might be something like a heart buried beneath them. I kind of hated him throughout, but he was really fun to hate. And amidst it all, he had some surprisingly positive moments, too, like his totally chill reaction to his bi awakening.

Clay, on his part, was rather blah, especially during the first half of the book. He’s probably one of the better people in this whole menagerie, but his brand of “clueless dork“ charm was a miss for me, and I couldn’t begin to feel invested in his chapters. That changed around the middle of the story when the guys started spending more time alone in his apartment and he started gaining some depth. That’s coincidentally when I began slowly buying into the romance and sensing some of the chemistry that was supposedly oh so evident to everyone but the leads. I guess in the end I didn’t mind seeing them reach their HEA but I also wasn’t particularly rooting for them. When the HEA came, I might have actually got a bit distracted by counting the plot holes and hanging plot threads…

This was a difficult book for me to get through for many reasons, not least of them being, of course, the subject matter. The premise is this: the author sits down to talk to a former friend who sexually assaulted her when they were younger. The execution involves a lot of meandering in circles, questioning the same things over and over, and, in a rather meta way, meditating on the process of writing this very book. It often felt like reading a highly personal diary, especially what with the short, often disjointed chapters and the lack of proper punctuation in dialogue.

On one hand, I feel this is such an important and relatable exploration of a sensitive subject matter.  There are these awful things that can happen to you, and you’re expected to feel a certain way about them, but reality can be way more complex and nuanced, and it can take a lot of soul-searching and courage to call things what you are, to admit your own feelings, to begin to figure out how to cope. On the other hand, I felt increasingly uncomfortable as I read by how close the author kept coming to… idk, almost taking the perpetrator’s side? She sets out to talk to him because she wants to understand the reasons behind his crime, but it keeps feeling like she’s searching for excuses instead. All those transcripts of their conversations were often difficult for me to read because of how apologetic and oh-so-grateful for his agreement to talk to her she was, and how she kept being so reassuring and basically trying to shield the guy from too much guilt and shame.

It did help that she approached it with a lot of self-awareness, including interactions with her loved ones calling her out on it. But at the same time, when she just kept doing the same thing, I had to kind of wonder, whose side was she on? Why not her own? And like, I don’t want to discard the fact that stuff like this can be a valid part of processing a fraught, complex, messy, painful situation. Trying to shoulder the responsibility for something another person did to you is often a way to assume control. But it was just a thing that happened over and over, that apologetic gratitude extended toward someone she’s still having nightmares about, that kept making me so incredibly frustrated.

This was kind of an acquired taste for me. At the beginning, I kind of really liked the idea but found it hard to vibe with the execution. Everything was super rushed—less actual storytelling, more “wink wink, nudge nudge, you’re certainly familiar with premises and tropes like this, so here are some broad strokes to get you going.“ The main cast went through three different designs each in a matter of pages (teenagers in the flashback, forty-somethings in the present, heroes in the fantasy world). It was honestly pretty confusing.

I’m glad I stuck with it past this initial jumble though, because once I got better oriented, the story sucked me right in. The grimdark setting built in-universe on teenage power fantasies and bits and pieces of zeitgeist feels more videogame than tabletop, and the character development remains sparse, but there are a lot of small clever things here that I enjoyed. Such as Ash’s genre-savviness and the increasingly hard choices the party had to make. Also, the art style here is really striking and creates a dark, oppressive atmosphere that perfectly matches the story. All in all, I’m quite likely to pick up more volumes.