Nik
When I started reading this book, I appreciated the prose: it's been a long time since I've had to reach for the dictionary so much; but by the time I hit my first stopping point at 20ish percent, I was over it—it's pretentious and I found it unbelievable that anyone actually speaks like this. And who includes this much detail when recounting things to someone who was there?
I've long been interested in abnormal psych, and I've long wondered about what's experienced by the parent of a mass murderer. From that perspective, the story is fascinating. But it's also infuriating! It's not like Kevin just snapped one fine day. There were signs his entire life that had been excused, overlooked, or ignored. Argh! But there isn't a single likeable character, which makes getting through it tedious. Except for the murdered teacher. She was pretty great. There's something particularly grating about Eva, especially in the beginning. It felt like a male voice speaking through her—odd, since the author is a woman.
I really wanted to like this. But it just thinks it's so much more than it is. It didn't help that I wanted to throttle the entire Khatchadourian family.
When I first read this, many years ago, I loved the story and had few complaints. I still love the story, but this time around I found myself cheering for Dracula because the rest of the characters are so irritating. Okay, yes, I know, it was the late 1800s and things were very different, but I'm still irritated to be reminded of that. To think that saying a woman had the mind of a man was the highest of compliments! GAH! Because normally they're just fragile, hysterical creatures! Okay, so maybe less irritated and more apoplectic...
Most of the time when a book is categorised as both sci-fi and fantasy, I roll my eyes because I'm tired of the two getting lumped together. But this really has elements of both, which is interesting. Unlike many readers coming to this series, I'm not familiar with Vaughan's work; I'm not yet sure how I feel about some of the elements in these first issues, but I like the story enough to keep reading. There were some moments that made me laugh out loud, which is always a promising start.
And, even if I didn't, I would probably still keep reading, because Staples's artwork is beautiful. In fact, visually, there's just so much to like about her art and Fonografiks's lettering:
- The expressions aren't overly exaggerated, they're exaggerated just the right amount. Which shouldn't make sense, but it does.
- Lines and colouring are brilliant in both senses of the word, practically leaping off the page (screen) so my eyes can devour them.
- Speech bubble placement is great, but what I like even better is the bubbles themselves. I love that the speech bubble belonging to the person you can't see is drawn differently from the one belonging to the person you can see.
- The lettering might just be one of my favourite things.
* All-caps lettering in comics has always irritated me. In Saga, all-caps lettering is used when people are actually, y'know, shouting. WHICH IS GREAT BECAUSE READING AN ENTIRE SERIES SHOUTING AT MYSELF MAKES MY BRAIN-EARS SORE AND IS VERY TIRING.
* The practice of randomly bolding words in comics has always irritated me. In Saga, words are bolded when they are meant to be, y'know, emphasised. Which is great, because now I don't have to read the whole series in the voice of Daria's Mr. DeMartino.
* Different fonts and colours, as appropriate. Not one per character, that'd be a bit much. But like one per race(ish). Luuuuurve.
I'm just getting out of a long-term rel—er, I mean, I've just finished reading a series I started reading in 2010, so I'm still a little bit steeped in that world. It amuses me when the universe creates connections between completely unrelated things. That series also had a being that could detect lies, of whom The Will's lying cat reminded me, and that series also had a precocious, cheeky teenager, of whom Izabel reminds me. I didn't have to read Saga right after I finished Fever, that's just the way it worked out. ¯_(ツ)_/¯
It's interesting that Freelancers have their own honorific: “The”.
I love Izabel.
Fun read. A couple of things irked me, so I docked a star. I didn't find it slow going or dull, but I'm not a connoisseur of the genre, so I haven't had the same exposure as some of the other reviewers.
If Hala can make people see what she wants them to see, and she can sustain the illusion for a while, why not simply make the enemy soldiers turn on each other? If Izz and Maz can turn into any creature, why not a massive and indestructible one that could stomp the enemy?
2.5
There isn't enough here to get excited about. After “Four: A Divergent Collection,” it's a little difficult to justify this story's existence. It's not revelatory and is quickly finished. I really like Four, so his perspective is always welcome, but there was a lot of telling and not showing going on and I felt unmoved by the meh of it all.
Really great trilogy. The individual stories were the usual mix of fascinating messed-upness we get from King, but it was the weaving of the details that really wowed me. You know those films with giant ensemble casts where we're shown individual vignettes but there's like this underlying thing that connects everyone? This was like that. Spread out over three books. With nary a lull or dull moment. Just fantastically skilful storytelling from one of the masters.
Diversity, accessibility, inclusivity—giggity! I can't squee enough about this book. It's been a while since a story grabbed me like this, holding on and pulling my focus from other things; all I wanted to do was get back to it and keep reading. And this is the author's first novel? Wow.
The crew of the Wayfarer reminded me a bit of the crew in Farscape: kind of a ragtag bunch who end up as family; it's fun getting to know them individually and as a group. The storytelling is straightforward and compelling. The writing is descriptive enough that I felt like I was reading a film; in fact, I began early on casting actors in the various roles, which isn't something I often do. But I never got mired in the prose.
It was beautiful to read about different species of beings, different cultures, physical attributes, gender identities. I've never seen an author use “xe” and “xyr” before, so that was pretty great. The whole thing just oozes personality and charm and—most of all—love. I would love to see this world and especially these characters come to life on the big screen, and I can't wait to read the next book in the series.
3.5, I think. Reading WWII-related historical fiction always leaves me at a loss for words. Just thinking about it evokes so many feels, y'know? There are a couple of things that set this book apart: it's about a little-known tragedy and it comprises exceptionally short chapters, switching among the viewpoints of four characters. I'm grateful for the former, to have learned something new; but the latter, I'm not sure.
As a rule, I don't love short stories. I feel like by the time I'm really getting into it, the story's over. While not a collection of short stories, the format of this book made me feel kind of the same way. On one hand, the short chapters made the reading fly; on the other, I felt a kind of unexpected emotional detachment from the characters.
Still a really good story, well worth a read.
Let me just get my irk out of the way. The way Dani is written is highly irritating: I've had my fill of “dude,” “I seen,” “all the sudden,” and the like. As a middle-aged word nerd, I couldn't ignore it.
But my goodness is this kid lovable, equally because of her brash exterior and despite it. There's really a lot to like here and it's a great story.
The grown, immortal men taken with a 14yo are gross in their state of smit, but are otherwise really fascinating characters: Christian's slow transition to full Unseelie prince and Ryodan's semblance of humanity. On the human side, Dancer is as adorable as Dani (can be) and the two of them are adorable together. There is a grand, climactic showdown with multiple big bads at the end, and I enjoyed this one the most so far; it's action-packed, really intense, and immensely gratifying. Yes, yes, Dani and Mac's relationship doesn't really get touched this time around. This would be really problematic, were there no more books in the series. Thankfully, there are, and I'm off to read the next one right now.
If read in small doses, this is a five-star book; if read in a single sitting, three. I split the difference. It helps—but it's not necessary—to have read the first book first. When I read the book in small doses—say, a chapter or two at a time—I felt like I was feeling all the things I was supposed to be feeling: I was right there with the author, enjoying the humour and feeling heart-hurty with empathy. When I read big chunks at a time, some of the humour started to feel forced, and not in a way that I associate with being furiously happy. It's the kind of book that I like to devour, so I had to force myself to take breaks so that I could better appreciate it. And I really do appreciate it. This is Lawson's life, a really intimate look inside her head, and I both applaud her bravery and am grateful for her generosity in sharing it with us.
I didn't read the book's synopsis so it was a surprise to me that this time we get to hear from Charlotte. Auggie doesn't play much of a direct role in this one, but he's there. He connects everyone, and his story touches everyone else's story, too. Every story in this series is a worthwhile read. Recommended for absolutely everyone.
4.5/5
Why -.5? I kind of liked Lor until he opened his mouth. I could have done without the chapter written from his POV. The whole lovable ableist misogynist really doesn't work for me.
Why 4.5? Any story that makes me, “OMG. Whaaaaaaat.” every couple of chapters deserves its kudos. And just when I think all the characters are developed and the twists are navigated, just when I think, surely, nothing more nerve-racking and explosive can happen so close to the end, it happens again: “OMG. Whaaaaaaat.”
This book merits four stars because I'm kind of at a loss for words. I was expecting more of the same from Chuck Palahniuk, writing-wise, and that's what I got. I didn't have any expectations of the story. This, I think, is a good thing and worked out well for me. Invisible Monsters is horrifying and its author certifiable, or at least capable of playing it on TV. That said, I had to keep reading to get my next “WTF?!” fix. Now that I'm done with the book, I'm jonesing; I might have to start watching Lost.
I needed something light after my last read; despite Divergent being dystopian fare, it did the job nicely. It's an action-packed, simple, and fast read, with a predictable story that's nevertheless enjoyable. Grammatical errors very occasionally irritated and pulled me out of the story, but for the most part it's a tightly woven tale. I appreciated the straightforward narrative and economy of words.
Not yet having seen Inside Out, I'm not sure the parallel I'm drawing is even accurate, but Divergent feels like Hunger Games meets Inside Out. In my head, personality traits as factions and emotions as sentient beings sound pretty similar. :D
Anyway. Good story. Not mind-blowing, but fun, and I'm looking forward to reading the rest of the series.
I don't think epic/high fantasy is for me, I thought, shortly after starting Tigana. I was so confused. There were so many characters and multiple locations and timelines. I kept at it, though, and what I realised is that reading this book was like making a new friend. In the beginning, a lot of their life experiences make no sense because I have no context. Over time, I'm able to fit all the little bits ‘n' bobs into a whole that gives me a better understanding of and closer relationship to that person.
A lifetime of experience was squashed into this dense, emotional novel. It is beautifully written and most of the story is told very well. I couldn't get into the sections about Alberico; they were boring. The ending wasn't entirely satisfying. I like things wrapped up neatly at the end, and it bothered me greatly that Scelto defied Dianora and didn't tell the prince the truth about his father. It bothered me also that after half a lifetime of yearning, brother and sister were not only not united, but that Baerd missed Dianora by mere moments and never discovered the truth of the choices she made and all that she sacrificed.
A gripping but rather horrific tale. Told well, but in dire need of editing. I've read a lot of reviews in which people criticise the writing. The writing itself is okay, but the trio of editors the author thanks should be fired. The editing is so atrocious, I would tell kids about to read this series that this is how they shouldn't write if they want to pass their English classes.
I have so much to say about this book that it's all a jumble and I don't know where to begin. I feel so many things that I'm numb. My heart says one thing and my brain says something completely different. My star rating, then, is somewhere in the middle.
Before I read about how problematic this book is, I really enjoyed it. Initially, I thought it was a bit too Y as far as YA goes, but by part iii I was pretty well invested in (some of) the characters and wanted to see how things would turn out for them. Towards the end, things got pretty emotional.
The book is really very touching and enjoyable in blissful ignorance. It is not an accurate guide to schizophrenia (thanks, brain!), but otherwise there is plenty in the story that I appreciated (thanks, heart!). Apparently the author was in high school when she started writing the book and at university when she finished it. I think this is an astonishing debut novel published at such a young age.
On some level I feel like things were tied up very neatly: something happened with the scoreboard in the past, something happens to Alex with it in the present; something happened with the snake in the past, something happens to Alex with it in the present—and none of it is hallucinatory. Despite loving their daughter and experiencing her schizophrenia from a young age, it's a teenaged boy who has to put the parents in their place, as if he knows what's what, as if public perception of a family member with schizophrenia is the same as the reality (since his mother was basically committed for nothing).
What I appreciate most about it is how well it engenders empathy and enables dialogue about mental health among teenagers. As long as we don't look too closely. It shouldn't be seen as a reliable guide specifically for child onset schizophrenia: I was reading some of the reviews and people are saying that the focus on hallucinations and delusions is really one-sided and that the narrative isn't really accurate. Some said that the author didn't do any research, but I find that difficult to believe.
¯_(ツ)_/¯
hashtag unpopular opinion: I loved Miles.
aside: Never before have I been so taken with a book cover. Never before have I shared a link to the cover with everyone I know, saying, This is the book I'm about to start reading; isn't the cover stunning? The cover is stunning.
The story is essentially enjoyable, but some of the characters have gone stale. Dani is a great character, but the story told from her perspective—the prose used—is incredibly irritating. I know it's meant to sound like a kid, but it's over the top. There was too much telling and not enough showing: it seemed like certain situations were contrived just so a conversation could take place that explained things. I usually like first-person storytelling, but here it grated. If there's going to be such detailed, long dialogue, I think third-person works better; otherwise, it just doesn't make sense to me.
I keep hearing the series has ended—and indeed, this book certainly feels like a conclusion, of sorts—but more *fever books keep getting published. I'm kinda confused, but I'll keep reading. O.o Speaking of conclusions, it felt very, very weird to me to omit resolution between Dani and Mac from this book.
This story wasn't at all what I expected. It caught me off-guard, how relatable it was.
This was so close to being good. LJ realised something in the last few pages of the book that, had she realised it earlier, would've shifted the emphasis of the story and could've made it a lot better. Sigh.
