Michelle

It had a Sheltie in it, that was nice.

Mia was too much of a whiner. First world problems galore. Understandable fears, concerns, and insecurities repeated t0 the point most sympathy was lost. Who can't find one good or interesting thing about being a princess? Travel? The opportunity to meet inspirational people? The chance to do good?

Also, the kid was oblivious to very obvious things.

It had a Sheltie, though. Oh, and Anne Hathaway narrated. Don't think I ever saw the full movie, so that the book was different wasn't a problem.

I ain't Manon Lescault is a gold digger, but she aint messin' with no broke Chevalier des Grieux.

I read this as part of the Great Courses, er, course called A Day's Read. This thing actually took me a couple years, because I stalled out the first time around, unable to finish, and then I got distracted by life.

It also felt longer than it was because my constant eye rolls slowed down the process.

Essentially, we have this guy from a wealthy family who falls for a lower middle class girl, and runs off with her. She is all he wants. While she might have some love for him, her actions throughout indicate she will choose money and comfort every time. They are constantly losing money, and on each occasion she chooses a suitor who will keep her in a manner she deems appropriate. In her defense, she claims to value fidelity of the heart over fidelity of the body.

This guy, the Chevalier des Grieux, will do anything to keep her in luxury, and the story finds him degrading and embarrassing himself over time. Every time he loses her, or their choices lead to imprisonment for one or both of them, what he will do to be reunited with her becomes more extreme. The thing is that he blames their woes on anything other than poor choices, and never seems to truly get how despicable he has grown.

Even while I read about their various calamities, I think he almost always gets off lighter than he deserves. He calls on assistance from a devoted friend, uses his education and/or demeanor as a gentleman to secure privileges and favors, and when he has money he greases lots of palms. He is imprisoned on multiple occasions, but never experiences prison. He also always has the promise of a future inheritance.

I can enjoy books with unsympathetic main characters, but I kept wondering how much Prevost wanted me to buy into this guy's delusions and privilege, and that made this a slog. Am I supposed to sympathize or root for these two? I do believe if I had to pick between the two, I'd root for Manon. Yeah, she is happy to be a mistress if the price is right, but that's her choice. He claims all he desired was her happiness, but he kept her from the security that might achieve that for her.

Of course, I can project a lot onto Manon's choices, because we don't truly get to know her, and I left the story wondering if her devoted lover knew who the truth of her, if he ever saw the real woman.

3 stars for a classic? Yeah, that might speak poorly of my tastes, but what can you do? As usual, I ended up glad I read this, and the rating reflects that as well as my enjoyment. If it was merely enjoyment, it would lose a star.

I found this story deeply moving ... and very depressing. Messed me up in much the same way as the Twilight Zone episode “Time Enough at Last,” in that the brutality of the world, the unfairness of life, seems overwhelming.

Thanks, Flaubert.

Willowdean isn't perfect. She is human. Her self-confidence in her body can be shattered by a boy's hands roaming toward a roll of fat. Because her own body positivity is on shaky ground, in the beginning especially she judges others based on how they look. These are thoughts, maybe a comment made to a friend.

I've seen some criticism for this in reviews, and while I appreciate the point, I think those reviewers are missing the point, and looking for a saccharine character, which changes the whole book. She is a girl who is learning and struggling some. She is deeply worried her newly sexually experienced, traditionally pretty, friend is leaving her in the dust. She spouts messages of loving her body, but doesn't know why the cute guy likes her. She has lost an overweight family member too early to a heart attack. Her mother is obsessed with and runs the local beauty pageant.

When she does have uncharitable thoughts, she regrets them. Because she wants to be happy in her own body, and knows that no one has the right to judge others based on looks. She knows that from the beginning, and then she goes on – albeit accidentally – to better know some of these girls.

That's the best hope for all of us, isn't it? Because anyone who claims they never mentally judge anyone about their looks is a liar. You stop yourself, you reprimand yourself, and over time you are less likely to even entertain the thoughts. But we've all soaked in a culture of looks mattering particularly if you're a woman, seeing false examples of perfection everywhere, thinking we're in competition with other women for all the good things.

And Willowdean would be the first one to say that has to stop. And by the end, she would be the first one to say it and mean it whole-heartedly.

I listened to the audiobook borrowed from the library using overdrive. The narrator was good. Lots of Texas accents, which sorta fascinated me.

???Not everyone hates Iranians,??? she assures me, putting down the paper. ???People who hate just happen to be the loudest.???

I loved, loved, loved this book, and this author. Highly recommend this laugh-out-funny and moving story of Zomorod (Cindy) Yousefzadeh, a girl from Iran who has spent several years, here and there, in America due to her father's engineering job.

The time period is the late 70s, when a lot of people in America were hearing about Iran for the first time due to political strife and the taking of American hostages. I was exactly the same age as Zomorod during the period of time the story takes place. In Catholic School, we would turn toward the window, say the Pledge of Allegiance, and then take turns on who would lead the prayer for the hostages.

Zomorod, like any kid, seeks to fit in, and is embarrassed by her parents. She has the added pressure of good English, but not knowing all the idioms, as well as parents who are different culturally from the other adults.

I found myself chuckling at several opportunities at Zomorod's observations and wit, and at her mix of love and embarrassment in regard to her parents.

Americans are written as essentially good people, albeit a bit ignorant on world events. The most villainous character is still seen with some sympathy. Because the story takes place over a couple years, the younger characters get an opportunity to mature.

In fact, one of the details that impressed me most is how the Zomorod at the beginning of the story and at the end are clearly the same girl, but each version think and behave appropriate to her age. She has gained wisdom and confidence and lasting friendship. (I adored her circle of friends.)

If there is one flaw, it's that the author imparts a lot of info on the Iran, which is both interesting and vital to the story, but the information is often imparted in a less-than-natural fashion. The best method is Zomorod's best friend asking questions out of interests, concern, and her plan to become a journalist. But then there is the neighbor who stops periodically to ask to have events explained to him.

I hope that there will be more books in these series, because I would love to stay in touch.

Ambivalent. Torn in multiple directions. Liked a great deal of the story very much, irritated by a few cliches. Will definitely read more, because I like this world, but hoping October gets a little more savvy. She is strong in so many ways, but she also screws up more than her share. What I mean is that characters should make mistakes. Some mistakes makes the story better, the stakes higher, the resolution better, but it seemed like October had just a steady stream of screw-ups that friends, allies, and a little bit of luck stop from being fatal. But maybe that's intentional, and the series is about her growth, and I want to find out and see that. I also want to see how she gets revenge on the people who harmed her in the prologue, and see what happens in regard to her daughter, and her ex. I am trying to purchase less books in 2017, and so I will probably read another Seanan McGuire book – [b:Indexing 17907054 Indexing (Indexing #1) Seanan McGuire https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1369528556s/17907054.jpg 25089153] – before I return to this series, and that might be a good thing.Learned about the author through mentions in a book called [b:The Geek Feminist Revolution 26114477 The Geek Feminist Revolution Kameron Hurley https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1442933437s/26114477.jpg 46812613] She was – and this is so unfair – targeted for stating her fears about potentially BEING targeted by ... well, read the book.

???Hey, Elliot? Your girlfriend was right. I had a sister, and now she???s dead, so now I have a dead sister.???

3 stars not because I'm meh, but because there's a lot of really good stuff, but some other things that did not work for me. I'm glad I read Hold because of the really good stuff.

Let me do my issues first. The synopsis seems like the story could go a couple different ways, or a combination of both. This made me interested in reading about Luke's loss of his sister, and how his ability to stop time might be related.

But there's very little about his sister. (What's there is is so good.) And there's very little, honestly, about his stopping time. He can do it, it comes up occasionally, but the book would not be that changed without it. Anything garnered from it could have been done another way. I don't need a lot of external action in my books – weird labeling stopping time as action – and love a lot of more literary stuff, but the middle of this book often felt like not much was happening on any level.

There are very few adults, to the point that I have to imagine it's somewhat deliberate, but this felt unnatural and like a bunch of lost opportunities. Luke's mother is a depressed woman we only glimpse, mostly on the periphery in flashback. Eddie's mother is a fearful woman, who we only glimpse. Luke had one conversation with his dad, I think. Other parents and teachers are mentioned, briefly. I don't truly know what Luke thinks about his parents, because he rarely thinks of them at all. Which make me laugh out out at the line: “Luke had almost forgotten Eddie had parents.”

While I liked the participants in the central romance, I cannot say I felt the chemistry. Sorry, sorry! Both of them are terrific characters.

Multiple sentences had missing words, which might not be a big deal to a lot of people, but this stood out.

The good stuff is I really liked the characters, with my fave being Marcos, who made me laugh the most. The friendships were strong, and well-written. Lots and lots of diversity and acceptance of one another in the core group. Appreciated the portrayal of how the school prided itself on being culturally sensitive when it was a hotbed of microaggressions, and how this led to ... events ... and how that became a bit of an exploration of how PoC are perceived and imperiled based on that perception.

I would definitely read more by Rachel Davidson Leigh. Some of my issues were based on feeling the synopsis set me up for something else, and so I think I would have done a little better with it if this hadn't been the case. I want more characters like these! More Marcus!

Okay, it's an audiobook, but crushed it!

I liked it, for the most part. Took a bit of a surprise turn, which I have mixed feelings about. The narrators were really good, the main characters very appealing. Enjoyed Carla the Nurse and Maddy's mother, as well. Well, Maddy's mother had a few things going on, but I had sympathy for her.

This is a shorter work, there are themes to think about.

Something the author probably does not want to read: This story would make a good video game, with all the sights, sounds, and decisions to be made.

The story is told from the POV of Callie, a woman who is divorcing her husband. They're in a legal office, with their respective lawyers, when an earthquake hits. The couple band together to reach their son, who is in daycare, and deal with a lot of moral, emotional, and physical dilemmas along the way, and Callie has a major psychological breakthrough. You know, the usual.

Linda, Callie's lawyer, very early on, when the earthquake is minor, makes a comment about how a quake can put things in perspective and remind people what really matters. I hated this, actually. Way too heavy handed. If people don't get this as the message, they don't want to get it.

Anyhow, good story, went some places I didn't expect, made me care about a whole bunch of people. Contained perspectives on love and marriage (go together like...), grief, suppression, perspective – thaaaaanks, Linda, hope you made it out okay – loss, altruism, and sacrifice.

Early on, Callie makes clear she researched if they were in a major earthquake zone when she found out she was pregnant. This seeming throwaway character trait – she's a planner/worrier – turns out to be a result of guilt, the sense of being responsible in multiple senses of the word. I believe by the end, she has learned to share, or even sometimes, hand off the burden of responsibility.

I would not advise reading this if metaphors and symbolism aren't your thing. This story is literary, meaning most of the action is internal, and this doesn't work for everyone. Also, it's a Single, which means it's short, and you have to be down with that. (And this is my first 2017 book, and at 33 pages a little bit of a cheat to get going on my goal of 80 books– I will probably cheat some more periodically.)

Hunger refers to the literal hungry children who populate the story, but it also refers to the couple who move into the cottage. I don't think anyone wants to move – from the city to the country, from the country to the city, from Town A to Town B – without hunger, without seeking to fill an emptiness.

Whether or not Adrian and Paula are fed, either individually or a a couple, is at the heart of the story. Paula was relatable to be in her introversion, in her search for quiet, in her symbiotic relationship with her new home. Adrian's desperation to make their move work, to believe it's working, is exceptionally well written.

My understanding is this author does horror, and based on the atmosphere she creates here, I would love to read more of her work.

Genuinely no connection/chemistry with this author. I think she is quite good at what she does, and the story was good, but her work doesn't move me or stick with me. I've read at least one book by her previously, and so I'm willing to admit I don't think I would do another, but would happily recommend her to someone else.

Her voice is pretty Lorelai, which is fine by me.

Solid, not a laugh riot, but entertaining and light. Good selection for when life is bumming you out and other options on the TBR pile are too heavy. (3.5 stars.)

Formatting on a Kindle made bits of this a chore. The story is kinda a jumble at times, with too many POVs. The ambiguities worked better for me in the author's previous book, A Head Full of Ghosts. Some genuinely creepy moments that I imagine will linger for me.

Edited to add that I've been watching a crazy amount of YouTube year-end round ups of books people have read – the ones they loved, hated, and were disappointed in. One reviewer couldn't say enough about A Head Full of Ghosts, but was disappointed in “Disappearance.” This is exactly my experience. I loved, loved, loved A Head Full of Ghosts, and was deeply ambivalent about “Disappearance.” And now I'm worried that the things I found so refreshing in the first book – the unreliable narrator and ambiguity about the level of supernatural involvement – will grow old if that's the twist in every book.

I like her, like her voice – her singing voice, too, but not what I meant. She's funny. And apparently really short.

Enjoyed this. Highlighted a lot. Enjoy books by smart, strong women – geekiness is a bonus and a half. Stuff on Gamergate, efforts to write inclusive books, backlash when one writes inclusive books, the perils of being female on the internet. Cannibalistic llamas. The “uj.”

“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!

My only question is how this kid didn't figure out the identity of his secret admirer.

Edit: 7/6/17. My one line review fascinates me given how much I loved this book, and how it only grows in my appreciation over time.

Goes a long way in describing white male anger, feeling “left behind,” and a cycle of abuse, poverty, and dysfunction. Now what?

This was one of my top books for 2016, easily. The story is very introspective, and so not a lot of action, but I love books that can make the life of the mind and quiet revelations just as powerful.

Lib, the main character, is a no-nonsense nurse who has trained under Florence Nightingale. She takes on a patient without knowing the exact nature of the assignment, and is distressed to discover her job entailed keeping an unrelenting eye on a child (Anna) who does not appear to be eating. The locals are sure it's a miracle, Lib is sure it's a scam.

The event at the heart of the mystery is tragic, and I imagine some readers will figure that portion out, but that doesn't lessen the impact.

Lib is hard to like at first. Good at her job, ethical, but also judgemental. Her initial response to Anna, even as she suspects her of being in on what she's sure if a hoax, is off-putting. But the story is an inner journey. She does not end up where she started.

I'm editing this to remove stars and my initial review. I urge people to Google the author's name and the word abuse or abusive.

I liked it as I was reading it, but having trouble remembering it. Might have been I was in a bad place. Blame me, not the author.

For a middle-aged woman, I read a lot of YA. And a lot of the YA included, if not stars, LGBTA+ characters. Jerkbait was a book with which I struggled, because I had trouble liking any of the characters. We are given a cursory explanation of why the mother character seems like an utter homophobe, which amounts to her actually having loved her gay brother. It doesn't make any more sense in the book.

The main thing is that we have this very suicidal character, Robbie. By the use of “very,” I mean he is actively and repeatedly trying to kill himself, and no one is helping him. I mean, ostensibly, this is because his parents want him to be recruited, drafted, whatever, and make buckets of money as a hockey player, and they fear if his suicidal desires come to light, this will be ruined. But they're doing nothing to keep him alive, either. This is before they find out he is gay, as opposed to their theater-loving son. Which I appreciate makes a good point about stereotypes.

His twin brother, Tristan the Theater Kid, who is technically the main character, is beyond selfish as well. Yes, he is been pushed aside by his horrible parents due to his lack of interest in, and lesser ability on, the ice, but he spends a lot of time whining about not being close to his brother, only to shut down his brother's desperate efforts to engage. We are told his brother is abusive and cold, and there is certainly some evidence, but most of the time he is simply asking for help and being ignored.

Tristan is more concerned with his own interests than helping his brother. He ignores his brother's pleas for help, doesn't meet him when he is supposed to in order to keep an eye on him, and within minutes of one of Robbie's suicide attempts actively being hateful to his brother. He also seeks to capitalize on it. This last one is what really lost me. As much empathy as I have, Tristan's legitimate need to attention crossed a line for me, making me concerned that no one in this story was capable of being altruistic.

Maybe that's just exactly what this family would produce.

The story has a lot of secondary characters acting hateful or kind based on, what comes across as, the needs to the plot. And then the plot needs the brothers to have a Twin-based Psychic Hotline to one another, and so that happens. The ending is sorta happy, but based on the personalities of the characters, it doesn't feel realistic or lasting. Parents are terrible, brothers – particularly Tristan – are terrible. Other characters, terrible. I do think there is a version of this story that could have existed where people were merely challenging, conflicted, and flawed, like real people.

The writing is technically good, which means I would consider other books by this author. Go figure. :) I truly see my issues being with plotting, here and there, and characterization as opposed to any issue with Mia Siegert being able to tell a good story. Different characters in a different setting, creating a different dynamic? I could see myself very much enjoying that.

My suggestion for a YA book with a gay male character who is also into sports would be True Letters from a Fictional Life.l had some issues with this book, but I'd easily call that story worthy of a 1/2 to 1 star more based on those characters having complexity enough to be imperfect, but still relatable.

Just ... brilliant. Fiction that reads as all-to-real.

I did not love this book. Tons of action, certainly violence, but disjointed motives, and I felt emotionally flat, and skimmed a lot. Too many points of view for me to become absorbed.

Here is where I want to give the author all sorts of credit, and go to bat for her. The “cast” was diverse, and I love that. But I don't believe it was unbelievably diverse, as I've seen said in a lot of reviews. A handful of PoC and a few people who fall under the umbrella of LGBTQA+ does not seem implausible even for a small “white” school. Sometimes when people are underrepresented, when they do show up, sometimes readers or viewers are left with an inflated perceptive of how prominent they are.