delaney
Consider me thrilled—my heart was audibly racing as I ripped through this book.
Filled with true crime energy, <i>Tell Me What You Did</i> takes a unique approach to a classic structure—upon starting this, I was a bit worried that nothing would be super suspenseful or interesting because key information is presented right away. I couldn’t have been more wrong! Even with minimal twisting and turning, Wilson built insane tension that keeps building to the end.
Our main protagonist, Poe, & her father had a genuine dynamic that was realistic and a little tear-jerking in the best way. They are both pleasantly self-aware. <b>What I most enjoyed is that Poe is the epitome of unapologetic (& just) female rage</b>.
A gory-fun read!
<i>I received a free advanced reader copy of this book through NetGally.</i>
All the Names They Used for God is a collection of unique stories that seamlessly fit together, oozing mysticism. Though unrelated, they are woven increasing with both intensity and undertone of allusion to god either explicitly or in a more nuanced way.
The stories take place across a variety of worlds and years, but what I enjoyed most was the feeling that each character was driven by some force unbeknownst to them. I found this captivating. Only one of the stories was centered on religion, and yet every single story expressed the nature of our world and our faith in an unknown beyond.
I withhold my fifth star simply because it was hard for me to stay completely engaged with the format of a short story collection itself due to all the stopping and starting, but don't let that deter you from picking up this fantastic work! I really enjoyed the reading experience overall.
I'm sorry... what? This cannot be the same Emily Henry I fell in love with months ago...
I was excited to read this based on the description, and that carried me about halfway through the book. Beyond that, everything really fell apart for me. Instead of letting the initial mischief flourish, there was a distinct point where everything just got...really boring. I'm actually kind of mad about it upon reflection. It's like I was repeatedly baited with some juicy drama and served stale leftovers.
The premise that Emily Henry sets us up with is great: a couple classic romance tropes and beautiful writing as always to set the scene. However, it slowly becomes a never-ending series of the characters getting into out-of-pocket, ultra-therapized monologues about their childhoods & current behaviors/patterns. I was constantly being bombarded with yapping that felt like I was sitting in on a psychoanalyst's summary of someone's last few years of sessions. The conflict was pointless, the tension was weak, the banter was awkward, and even though the ending is meant to be predictable, it was painfully so with hardly a blip between points A & Z. I'm sad and disappointed.
Oh my GOODNESS, I ate this up. The ebbs and flows along with the pacing and unique structure of this book made it impossible to stop thinking about, let alone put down.
TJR paints her characters with real, distinct voices and behaviors so vividly that I felt everything written between the lines without her having to explicitly say anything. That talent of TJR allows the storylines to shape themselves before the characters can catch up quite frankly, and as things rev up at the end, the explosion of emotion and feeling in each prominent character becomes that much more real because of it.
As a gen z baby gaining a deeper understanding of the crazy 70's beyond the movies through TJR's writing, I really really enjoyed this!
I really lost my momentum with this installment of IPB... There was just something off in the vibes.
One of the most alluring aspects of this series is that the male characters are the ideal balance of manly-protective man & sensitive-caring-giving man. I also love how the women are constantly empowered in various ways. However, both of those felt pretty lost here to my dismay. I also felt a little icky about the intimacy between the two main characters due to their circumstances... Bummer!
Dune surely earned its place in the sci-fi hall of fame half a century ago—with mystical prose and a third person omniscient perspective, this reading experience was definitely unique. Usually I can't stand when the author writes so chaotically that things are overly difficult to understand, but the lack of explanation for little details actually added to the overall hazy tone of the desert planet, which I enjoyed.
I wish that alone was enough for me to rate this more highly, but my massive dislike for the protagonist, Paul, really choked out my enjoyment. After his first few actions, I questioned whether this child would become any better as a character, but he only gets worse. His attitude and entitlement led me to simply hating him. If Frank Herbert wanted Paul to come across as a bratty teenager with a god complex, he succeeded...
Even if I could get past my hang up on Paul, I have an overall sense that this world could've been so much cooler if it had true plot peaks and valleys and tangible tension throughout. I liked it but probably will not continue the series.
Emily Henry hits the nail on the head when it comes to writing heart-breakingly impossible scenarios that force you to keep reading through your teary eyes just to see if everything somehow works in the end.
I loved the dynamics happening across characters, timelines, plot points, etc., but got a bit hung up on the sister's frequent judgement of Nora (& didn't feel like that was actually ever resolved). Thus, this wasn't my favorite from Henry, but I really enjoyed it nonetheless.
So flowery... too flowery... I don't get the hype... I think other readers must enjoy the experience of prose formulated to be so abstract that it becomes poetic and whimsical without actually making much sense, but I do not. Boo.
P.S. I do WISH this one clicked for me; I caught glimpses of that tangible sci-fi/romance plot in the second half, but they weren't enough for me to say I enjoyed the book more than just the idea of the book.
I mean yeah, I'm going to enjoy a misunderstood good yet bad boy written by a woman pretty much every time, but that was where my enjoyment ended. The characters somehow acted 10 years younger than their alleged ages for most of this (annoyingly)—I actually had to keep reminding myself they're all real adults here...
Cute but kind of disappointing overall.
I do not consider myself to be a typical reader of this genre by any stretch of the imagination. That said, I've never had so many of my intangible thoughts and experiences articulated so clearly. Simone de Beauvoir speaks on such specific generalizations that it feels impossible for her words to be accurate, but she simply did not miss a beat. This was a push to read all the way through, but I'm glad I did...
The Second Sex is a behemoth of an analysis on female otherness—childhood, adolescence, marriage, abortion, motherhood, etc. Every chapter hit me with painful truths that I probably never would have identified otherwise. Each time I had a reading session of this, I felt seen on a level I actually did not know was possible. I'd recommend everyone make this a reading project at some point—the relief & understanding it exposes is otherworldly despite that it's not particularly delightful to read.
Okay look, the thing is: this was beautiful, but it wasn't for me.
I saw this book in a Brooklyn bookshop on the local authors table, and I was enticed. Eliza Barry Callahan's writing is poetic with stunning rhythm. There were many moments when I thought to myself, “ah, yes. damn,” if you get what I mean. In another lifetime–one where I also adore writers like Ocean Vuong & James Joyce–I would love this.
Unfortunately, I am not into this type of writing (my loss). I almost marked The Hearing Test dnf, but it was too dreamy to give up on. I hope others can appreciate it the way it deserves.
Honestly, this was fantastic. I ate up every page—this kind of fantasy world with fights and dragons and magic is bound to be a wild ride, and it did not disappoint. Yarros definitely writes with spunk.
I didn't 100% connect with the characters (didn't cry once reading this which is rare for me...) & while still enjoyably satisfying, many moments felt predictable (except the very very end)
Intriguing. Wolynn explains the process by which our parents' parents' (& so on) experiences are remembered in the fundamental coding of our own selves. This concept makes plenty of sense to me especially among other works such as The Body Keeps the Score and the current discussions permeating the mainstream about trauma & potentially traumatic experiences in general. There is also some great stuff in here about the specific ways your parents' dynamics affect your own relationships. Overall, Wolynn fills the pages with anecdotes but lacks psychological and physiological explanations—I needed more of a balance.
Part of me feels a sense of relief with this understanding: not everything that myself & my siblings are hashing out right now are our issues alone. It didn't start with you highlights that there's plenty unresolved coming through from the generations behind us. Some aspects of the theory, such as descendants of holocaust victims struggling with symptoms that the original victims would have experienced, are far fetched; however, when expanded to a general sense (i.e. your core beliefs are shaped by your parents & their core beliefs, which were shaped by their parents & so on) this really clicks.
On the other hand, I find this message teetering on the fence between enlightening and disempowering. To see your own issues as the product of generations and generations of war veterans, troubled relationships, abuse, etc., puts an incomprehensible weight on the individual to either heal everything or accept defeat. I agree that it always helps to be made aware of these patterns of the unconscious, but I can't see this as the primary lens through which to heal yourself... I think all that I read here could be taken with a grain of salt and accompanied by chats with a therapist specializing in family systems.
This was pretty good. Pierce Brown truly has a gift—I can't think of many other books with 4 individual perspectives that I didn't once lose track of... Iron Gold wasn't as moving for me as the preceding trilogy, but I'm guessing that has more to do with the fact that this is primarily setting up two more books rather than acting as a stand-alone.
I liked the book itself, but having Arnold reading it via audiobook was priceless.
I appreciated the simple, straightforward ideas conveyed in this—the one that stuck with me most being that if you dream as big as you can and work as hard as you can, you'll inevitably land somewhere great. It's obvious, but having someone so honest & successful express that notion of control over your circumstances was a breath of fresh air.
