I am now really into the series. Book 1 was a meh for me, but I wanted to support the author because I heard good things about her as a person and as a feminist. Book 2 was ... better. I really liked this one though and am invested now in continuing the journey.
There are things about Toby that are baked into the cake, or have been so far, which used to drive me mad. She is a half-fae P.I. who really kinda wants answers fed to her – she resents riddles but riddles are what mystical races do, and basically – in a less literal sense – at the heart of investigating. She is tenacious and stubborn and has powerful friends, and eventually the answers do tend to fall into her lap. Since this doesn't seem to be changing, I've learned to deal with it.
But she is told to talk to The Moon, and has someone in her life named Luna. She gave no thought to the riddle until after Luna started giving her answers – but moon, Luna, c'mon!
And I love that this book finally owns she has a death wish which is illustrated in the choices she makes. She cares, and her job is dangerous, but she tends to throw herself into danger with no real plan other than to wing it as she goes. (???Because, dear October, you???re the most passively suicidal person I???ve ever met, and that???s saying something. You???ll never open your wrists, but you???ll run head-first into hell. You???ll have good reasons. You???ll have great reasons, even. And part of you will be praying that you won???t come out again.???)
Also, she loses consciousness 3 to 4 times per book – blow to the head, blood loss, exhaustion...
That said, I've come to care about Toby and the rest of the recurring characters, and want to spend more time with them, as well as find out if she ever loses the death wish.
Hi, I won a Kindle copy of this in a Goodreads Giveaweay
I didn't take this book too seriously for the first 2/3rds. I read along, enjoying, thinking. “Okay, what bonkers thing is going to happen next,” and then another bonkers thing would happen. I found it very VC Andrews Flowers in the Attic in tone, a bit more soap operaesque, meant to be engaging, but not literary or deep.
Mercy, the main character, is pretty simple in doing what it takes to survive. There are no scenes where she thinks or analyzes. The writing heavily favors telling over showing. I think the story would have had a whole different tone and a different level of engagement for me if Mercy would have been more proactive, instead of waiting for the bad thing to happen before making her next move.
The last portion of the book, however, seemed deeper, started to make me care and engage more, as the book felt like it had a theme, a message, and Mercy seemed to experience growth. One of the things I would say about the series that began with Flowers in the Attic is that Cathy never really matured from the child she was in the very beginning, never really operated as an adult. Mercy was similar for most of the book, and then she took steps to become more.
And so toward the end, I though, okay, it's about sisterhood, not just the biological kind, but the female relationships we choose for ourselves – wow, I like that. But everything that came before only lightly hinted at that. If this book at been operating at this level, both in terms of the sisterhood angle and in terms of feminist commentary on the men she encounters – whew!
4 stars because I always liked this book, and it would be 4 stars even if that last portion didn't become more layered, because it was entertaining. I LOVED Flowers in the Attic, after all. However, that last portion indicates to me that Jenna Cosgrove has more going on than I thought, and that it's quite likely I will love future books from her.
Also, love tattoos, so...
5 stars, if you like that sort of thing. :)
This is an awesome book for romance novel fans or readers The Smart Bitches, which would be a huge overlap.
For critics of the genre and people who just don't get it, I imagine it's educational and might make them come away with a better upstanding, but this is – first and foremost – for readers in-the-know.
Why does it make a reader's heart go pitter-patter when a book is mention that she's read? Even more so when the book is praised. Since there are a lot of books mentioned and discussed, there are a lot of palpitations.
It's terrific to read a book that takes the genre seriously and by people who actually read the stuff. The world does not need another smug person talking about books they only know from covers and blurbs. Our beloved bitches lovingly cover the strengths and weaknesses that fans know by heart.
I laughed a lot, nodded in agreement a lot, saw a few things in a new way, contemplated hoo-hoos and wangs and realized that romance readership is a club. We might come from different walks of life, but there are inside jokes, you know? Just like you can walk into a room, work the number 42 into conversation, and count how many Douglas Adams fans are in earshot, there is a lot of shared knowledge and experiences among fans of romance. Allegedly capable heroines who can barely tie their own shoelaces, but we know they're capable ‘cause the writer tells us so, anyone?
Good times!
Cute and funny. Short, so doesn't explore all the aspects of the premise. I saw another review that says this hits the moral hard, but ... that's expected in a MG story, and with this plot. In order to become unstuck, you have to learn a lesson, figure out why you're stuck, experience growth, and it's probably going to come down to letting go of your ego and becoming a more altruistic human. I don't think the author emphasized that too much, though, considering the main audience for this might be very new to this theme. Adults understand the Groundhog's Day of it all, but a child might not, and so it's a new concept.
The voice actors were pretty good, especially as many of them had to “age up.” Even the main character had to mentally age up, even if he physically did not.
There's a bully character who actually, um, gets over it who I'd like to know more about. What happened?
Loved this book, spent most of it ... emotional! The author had a heart for people, even some of the ones who might have been villains at first glance. The themes around loss of family cut me deep.
Eric LaRocca is a talented author who writes (often gross) little stories that stay with you. This short-story collection is no exception. Writing this review a few weeks after reading/listening really cements my favorite stories, the ones I remember best.
Bodies are for Burning hit hard. The main character has an obsession with setting things, people, on fire. Intrusive thoughts. Lots of intrusive thoughts. And now she's watching her flammable niece. I don't advise asking anyone to babysit who tells you they're not cut out for babysitting. Anyhow, I get not wanting to babysit, and I have my own intrusive thoughts – mine are just hating on myself and tossing out the worst-case scenarios or demanding to know the worst thought I could have in the moment, and giving it to me. I thought the message that this woman isn't monstrous, just really sick and fighting the sickness was poignant.
The Strange Things We Become hit hard. It's a story of impending loss and the mix of grief and resentment that comes along for the ride.
You're Not Supposed to Be Here is THAT story – the one you expect to see in the latest horror anthology show where a seemingly idyllic day turns into a nightmare and the only way out, to save what matters, is to strip yourself bare, flaws and sins and warts on display. And then the question becomes, how do you live with yourself, and how can you live with what you now know? Can this marriage survive? Um, probably not.
Where Flames Burned Emerald as Glass was very pleasing in how the puzzle pieces fit together. Another story that asks its lead character – and possibly the reader – to get real with hard choices, and can you live with them. The decisions that are both noble and that just doesn't look good from the outside looking in. And who doesn't love the inevitability of a prophesy falling into place?
I'll Be Gone Again is honestly a really well-done story that for my own reasons, my own regrets, I don't want to think about too hard. A gut punch. And NOW I'm thinking about it. Ugh.
Please Leave or I'm Going to Hurt You hits on one of the top taboos and so it's deeply uncomfortable. But poignant. But uncomfortable. But saaaad.
The author is great, but I need to be in the right place for his stories to not take me down too dark of a path. And my friend never gave me back my copy of Things Have Gotten Worse Since We Last Spoke.
I received a Netgalley ARC of The Chain. These are my honest thoughts.
If you're a fan of women finding solidarity in the shared stories of misogyny, this is your book. The primary villain is an ex of the author, who did her, and every other woman he ever met, extremely wrong in ways it's hard to understand if you have empathy and a conscience.
But the story isn't only about this unnamed man, although the thread of the harm he did is woven through the story. It's also a story of other men, of a system and a society that will not hold these men accountable, and of how women navigate this world alone and together.
Chimene Suleyman is open, and vulnerable, and raw about her experience and the aftermath. Thje damage this man left in his wake. She speaks of loss due to her abortion. She speaks of almost all-encompassing depression, and she speaks of the chain created by women who share their stories coming together.
This was almost a perfect book for me other than timelines got a little muddled on occasion.
I'd call this a pleasant read. Impressed me while not completely knocking my socks off. Some errors. Would read more in this series.
I won this a good while ago in a Goodreads raffle.
The author is quite talented in exploring grief, violence, abuse and toxic masculinity.
Warning: Every single story, except maybe one, has animal death, or animal torture, or detailed descriptions of butchering. I used to work at an animal shelter in Detroit, complete with a cruelty department, so the story about shooting wild dogs in Detroit was kinda darkly absurd for me.
Many of the stories contain people beating on each other for sport, or to get out their rage.
There are no happy endings.
I don't feel, as much as I admire the author's talent, that I would read another book by him.Relentless depictions of animals being shot, set on fire, tortured, and hopeless, abused, and abusing humans, are not a good cocktail for me.
This was such a good read. We follow Effie as she navigated her senior year of high school and figures out her plans for college. We see her with her best friends and explore the evolution of a friendship when everyone will be scattering to different school. And there's a love interest.
Effie has Cerebral Palsy and uses a wheelchair. We see her experiencing casual (often unconscious) ableism and denial of access to places by people who mean well, but do little. A lot of the book is Effie being clear on her career goals and trying to find a college that will support not just her dreams but her access to those dreams. I'm left thinking any institution that doesn't work for inclusion is all the poorer in the end in the loss of brilliant hearts and minds.
I light up at his compliment, but dial it back quickly. They want me, yes, but a want is just a want. They haven't done the work.
Simply told evocative story about hope, freedom, and hoping for freedom. Sometimes children's books pack the biggest punch in getting to the heart of what matters. We all count the days toward when we can relax, but it's nothing less than humbling to imagine if that time off was your only connection to home, family, freedom, language, and connection to what was taken from you, what you were taken from.
I read this probably back in August or September. I review nearly everything I read, but I just didn't have any enthusiasm for this one, any drive to talk about it. The good news is that it's a cheap read, and so if the topic interests you then you won't be losing much in the gamble. Perhaps it's a matter of this story being all too familiar, and so the stark recitation of facts just doesn't seem like more than you'd get in a newspaper story. At this point, I don't need to be convinced that the Catholic Church, for all of its positive qualities, has allowed their children to be devastated while shuffling the abusers around and hiding them. Now, I want to make sense of it all.
Father Bernard Bissonnette becomes more cliche than man as he pretty much hit every stereotype as he was allowed to abuse children for decades. A family seeks to confront him about it, and the beginning of the book promises this will happen. At the end we find out that he is pretty unrepentant, but so old and sickly that he is a pitiable figure. No one gets closure. The lack of closure for the reader is nothing compared to the lack of closure for these families. However, I'm left wondering what it all means and what the future seems to hold. Where is the context and how does this fit in with the bigger picture? Since the details, tragically, follow a familiar pattern, what does this piece offer?
I've I'd read this story years ago, it perhaps would have been enough in it's current form. The tale is no longer a new one, and even as the details should be shocking they've become too familiar. What are the answers? How is the church apt to change to respond to this? We live in a time when the word “priest” is said, and people have to will themselves not to snicker – even people who were raised Catholic. What now?
Everyone who reads Gregory knows she can be repetitious, and play fast and loose with facts, but they're fun reads.
Decline to rate or review due to belief author called a reviewer an a-hole. If I'm mistaken, please let me know.
I won a copy of this through a Goodreads giveaway, and it's also available for free though Amazon's KindleUnlimited.
I love the cover and the premise, but I have to DNF this really early on. The editing is just not there. I don't know if an earlier draft was published, but punctuation and proofreading errors abound. This has the bones of a quick, fun, juicy read, but I am too distracted trying to parse sentences, tripping over extra or missing words in a sentence, misplaced or missing punctuation, general errors, etc.
I am not rating this because I couldn't get beyond these issues to give the story a fair shake, and couldn't get to a place of relaxing and enjoying.
I think the author might have potential, and I would advise readers who are drawn to this book to give it a go through the KindleUnlimited program, or to download a sample. If you're a grammar stickler, you're probably going to be even more distracted than I was, but if that's not a big deal to you then you just might love The September Project.
I hope that this showing up in the Goodreads feed will make readers who might enjoy this aware of its existence.
Look, I know Jane Austen is an author that means a lot to a lot of people, I know she is a great writer, but she is just not for me. But you can get drunk doing a shot every time she used the word amiable.
“Dr. Mulligan???s eyes look sad, and my fears are confirmed. I am not normal. My beautiful relationship with Glen is not right.”
While I don't recall the sex being explicit, I need to clearly state the plot revolves strongly around issues of physical, sexual, and psychological abuse, much of it concerning underage characters, some of it done to the main character, some of it perpetrated by the main character.
Explosions or introspection? This is the way I ask/share if the story relies on a lot of action or if it's more suited to people who are looking for a more thought-provoking story. This is decidedly in the latter camp, because the story is the journey of the main character to understanding the nature of her life – what's been done to her body, mind, past, and what she has been drafted to do to others. Not a lot “happens,” overall, other than in flashback.
“Clara” has been conditioned to see the abnormal as normal, to have a warped understanding of marriage and family. She might be frustrating for some reasons in her utter initial denial, the walls she's built in order to live her life. At least some of the people around her after she is taken from her home are frustrated as well. But I couldn't help but root for her, to take joy in her breakthroughs.
I read The Girl Before several months ago, and I can say it's one of the stories that most stuck with me in 2016. I'd have to call it in my top 5 reads of last year. Because of it being so introspective, because of “Clara” being so unable to see her own life at first, this is probably not the read for everyone, but I loved it. The story impacted me, and the author clearly knew a lot about the various topics.
I'd love for The Girl Before to find an appreciative audience!
I am proclaiming October the (unintentional) month of Grady Hendrix since I ended up borrowing this novel from the library, after having loved both versions of the cover for a while, as well as having started another book by him last week, and never mentally putting the 2 books together as having the same author. (One version is the yearbook page, with the girl turned away, and the other looks like an old videotape cover.)And every time I did focus on the author name I thought it sounded familiar. I finally realized I'd reviewed a book by him years ago for a site I used to work for. The book was a satirical novel called [b:Satan Loves You 11261906 Satan Loves You Grady Hendrix https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1333896441s/11261906.jpg 16188715], and I loved it, with it's feel of Good Omens and Christopher Moore. So, it really makes sense that I loved My Best Friend's Exorcism, with the fun covers, and the mock ups of 80s ads, news articles, etc. The book was schlocky, funny, and creepy, but the characters weren't sacrificial as they often are in horror, and by that I mean they were real, fleshed out characters as opposed to bags of blood to sacrifice for gross outs and scares. The friendship of Abby and Gretchen, from its beginning on, felt real. The 80s references were deep and on point. And if you happened to be a teen girl back then, it feels like you're transported back to that time. Okay, I'll admit I cried at the end. The end of the occasionally schlocky horror novel. Because, yeah. Lastly, there's a dog in the book. The horror novel. You know where this is going. The dog dies, like they almost always do in horror, and often we get to imagine the dog's feelings of confusion as the person they love betrays them. I respect the effectiveness of this in horror novels -- the demon/serial killer/vampire means business. But at the point when the reader knows with 98% accuracy this will happen when there is a pet in the book, it might be time to do something else. Call me a nutbag animal lover, but as much as I love horror, this trope is the #1 reason I read so little of it. And, yeah, I know I need to take this up with a therapist. Anyhow, Grady Hendricks is a very good writer, as I found out and then forgot years ago, and I can't wait to really delve into [b:Paperbacks from Hell: A History of Horror Fiction from the '70s and '80s 33670466 Paperbacks from Hell A History of Horror Fiction from the '70s and '80s Grady Hendrix https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1504436657s/33670466.jpg 54542087]!
Not nearly as kinky as the title implies Smiley, this is a pretty straightforward romance novel with a hint of a mystery. There were some moments when I thought it could have used a better edit, but it was an enjoyable read. For me, the book took of when the hero and heroine became clearly on the same team and started being disagreeable with people other than one another. By the end, I was hooked!
This was a pretty good read, but not too detailed. If you're looking for a lot of stories about what it was like to make various movies, this is not the book for you. I think Beetlejuice was all of a paragraph. He does talk about roles that held particular meaning to him, but nothing in a lot of depth.
He writes about his childhood, and politics, and a little about 30 Rock, his custody battle, and his assorted scandals. None of that really changed my opinion of him as a person, which is that he is a well-intentioned person with a bad temper that occasionally gets the best of him, and in those moments he's his own worst enemy. While his tone was not angry, anger did bleed through in certain passages.
Not a bad book, just not for me. I felt the plot twists were pretty obvious, and I would have liked some of the characters to be fleshed out more. Didn't buy the main characters, to keep it spoiler free, change of heart.
The writing was lovely in spots, and very evocative, and I enjoy a dreamlike feel where the logic and boundaries are a bit off, but I really think I needed this to be occasionally more grounded for contrast.
My fave tribute to feminism, apples, and The Garden of Eden, remains Comfort Me with Apples, by Catherynne M. Valente.
(Originally published at Red Adept Reviews.)
Overall: 3 1/2 stars
After reading the first story, Firmament, (3 1/4 Stars) I had somewhat lowered expectations for how well this anthology would work for me. It dealt with a family, consisting of a mother and son, who'd just lost the man of the house. For largely subjective reasons, it didn't quite scratch my story itch. The main character and her son were in mourning, but I couldn't seem to care about her. Stories of grief often don't work for me because it seems to be that there are moments in mourning when we all do some pretty standard things, and those are touchstones in stories, but I think that if anything brings out the sense of individuality, the quirks in someone's nature, it's loss. Too often writers relate the universal stuff, hoping the reader will have experienced that same moment, when what rings truest for me are the unusual choices. This was why the mother didn't work for me. The character of the son was better drawn and his grief, alone in his understanding of what death means, was so much more effective. The general skill shown by the author and worthwhile ending didn't fully redeem the story for me.
However, every single issue I had with Firmament, every perceived weakness, was reversed later on in the anthology. I felt that, based on Firmament, Mr. Napier probably wasn't going to be able to present a portrait of loss that would move me, and then be proceeded to prove me wrong in multiple stories. I didn't think his words would sing for me, only to find that Mi Casa Es Su Casa (4 Stars) read like a poem and All The Little Secrets was a gem of a story (4 3/4 Stars). “Secrets” was a character piece that worked for me much like some of the better, more personal episodes of X-Files, such as Clyde Bruckman's Final Repose. (Yes, I just went full on geek.) Sci-Fi used as a mirror and as a character study. I'd actually love to read more stories related to this one.
Taking Quinn Home (3 3/4 Stars) was a classic horror tale. It was set in modern times, but we'll all recognize the timeless themes and source of the menace. The characters were almost all quite well done and most of them behaved completely logically and believably. There was genuine menace and a wonderfully slow build-up. Yes, I'd call most of the story masterful, particularly the events leading up to all hell breaking loose. It only failed for me based on a moment when I didn't buy a character's choice, another moment where a character does something convenient to prevent plot holes, and, some fridge logic. Fridge logic is when a while after the story, or during a break, you're going about your business and then a question or flaw pops into your head. (To use an example from a movie: How did Red know what Andy did on his last night in order to narrate it, when we only see them reuniting at the very end and his last line is about having hope for the reunion?) The story was well-written enough to work at the moment, but didn't hold up under too much scrutiny. Also, during THE most tense, intense, scary scene in the story, this line happens, “...I tilted the axe's handle upward it a harp jabbing motion.” Until then, I was holding my breath, y'all.
A Collection of True Evils (3 3/4 Stars) was the second story and the tale of two men who seek out a legendarily evil book. Some really classic stuff here and some good moments, but it sputtered for me a little at the end. The characters weren't deep, but I don't think they needed to be in this case. The build-up was better than the pay-off. There is some real creepiness here though. And tattoos from hell.
The Mannerisms of Runners (3 3/4 Stars) reminded me of Stephen King's pet theme about hell being repetition as a runner repeatedly, among other things, spits out something you really don't want to spit out. Another story where character took a backseat to mood and story, but it was appropriate.
The Tour Don't Roll Through Seattle (3 Stars) was interesting but I was haunted too much by the ghost of similar stories such as Robert Bloch's That Hell Bound Train, or, even more appropriately an excellent story called Beluthahatchie by Andy Duncan. There may or may not be a cameo in it by Kurt Cobain, or a grunge guy who'd probably be flattered to be mistaken for him. Deals with the devil rarely work out well.
Riding in Trucks with Ghosts (4 1/2 Stars) is a story about loss and covers a small sliver of similar terror with Firmament, but - for my money - much more evocatively and successfully. In Firmament, the weakness was the mother character and the strength was the young boy. In “Riding” we again meet a young boy, but he becomes the main character and that makes all the difference.
Butt of The Joke (2 1/2 Stars) is perhaps the weakest selection for me. It's the story of a comedian with woman problems. There was some nice use of language and the author worked the theme like crazy, but it fell flat for me. Yes, like a joke. The strengths of the story didn't make up for the predictability. For some reason, this reminded me a little of updated Poe.
Lunatic Mile (4 Stars) is for me, hands down, the gross out story of the volume. (This family here makes The Addams Family look all snuggly.) The fact that I can say this makes for an interesting point. A lot of the stories are more along the lines of psychological horror, some are sci-fi, and some like Farewell, From The Eleventh Hole (4 stars) has a supernatural event, but was really more a piece on the nature of life and loneliness. There are some really blood-spattered moments throughout 13 Broken Nightlights, but it's not the norm.
Grave Seasons (4 Stars) had a little something in common with Lunatic Mile and a tiny bit to do with Shirley Jackson's The Lottery, maybe a little bit of Stephen King's Children of The Corn. Rather than these similarities detracting from the story, I believe Grave Seasons fit well into those traditions.
Editing: 4 Stars
As mentioned, one error took me out of the story, and there were a few mistakes here and there, but really not too bad. I'm still mighty bummed about that one sentence breaking up the drama!
(Please note that the author has contacted me to say he's corrected errors and my review refers to the original version.)
Everyone cheers again, and soon we???re dancing, our bodies moving, one big mass of girls having fun. As I watch Lucy spin and knock her dark curls around, and as I listen to Claudia laugh and sing along (badly), it occurs to me that this is what it means to be a feminist. Not a humanist or an equalist or whatever. But a feminist. It???s not a bad word. After today it might be my favorite word. Because really all it is is girls supporting each other and wanting to be treated like human beings in a world that???s always finding ways to tell them they???re not.
Love, love, love! Cannot recommend enough. Viv goes from “nice girl” to Riot Grrrl, makes new friends, learns about intersectional feminism, and falls in love.
I love that this really was about girls embracing feminism, and that the book deals with where racism and sexism intersect. And rape culture. Viv meets a good kid named Seth, but also must deal with and accept that he will always struggle a little to understand what it's like to be a girl in this society. He's willing to try, though.
I want to give this book to every young woman I know!