Becca
A pretty delightful nonfiction picture book about nocturnal animals that roam even densely packed cities. The bottom corner of the right page has questions to prompt readers to guess what is coming next. It's confusing to me that the publisher has the same name as a burger chain. However, the covers for this series are excellent and I think it is a nice idea for kids living in more metropolitan areas to still be aware of the nature around them.
This book walks young kids through how to regulate their emotions, specifically anger. Miles' younger brother accidentally breaks something special to Miles. As Miles talks through his emotions (with a giant red monster symbolizing his destructive energy), the anger dissipates and eventually disappears altogether. When his little brother returns, cowering behind Mom, Miles suggests they repair the toy together and all is well.
It was okay, but I wish that Miles had talked about his initial reaction and apologized for yelling at and scaring Max. Instead of glossing over the outburst and going right to a resolution, it would have been nice to show that when we do act in anger, tempting though it may be to skip right to “Everything's fine again,” it's good to acknowledge our moments of unkindness and mistakes.
I have some loftier points about how feeling anger or frustration is not necessarily a bad thing (for example, in [b:Miles Is the Boss of His Body|18770519|Miles Is the Boss of His Body|Samantha Kurtzman-Counter|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1384159176l/18770519.SX50.jpg|26673508], his anger indicates a strong sense of personal boundaries), but that was my main gripe.
A sweet little fantasy picture book about how nothing will ever feel good enough if we don't feel like we are good enough, as is. Good for perfectionistic kids (and adults) who grow frustrated when they don't immediately excel at something.
Colorful and expressive illustrations full of frogs. Nothin wrong with that. It reminded me a bit of Owl House, [b:Princess Princess Ever After|30025791|Princess Princess Ever After|Kay O'Neill|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1461784181l/30025791.SY75.jpg|50430951], or theTea Dragon series.
I am torn about this. And by torn I mean, I didn't like it. And I loved [b:No Exit|40106375|No Exit|Taylor Adams|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1537752207l/40106375.SY75.jpg|56940541]! But with this one, at around 80% I heard myself say out loud, miserably, “I am so tired.” I am going to spoil all my qualms below. Hopefully Taylor Adams does not kill negative Goodreads reviewers.
At first it seems like the killer is a sword-wielding incel. I have a friend who likes swords, and he has bemoaned the weird misogyny within this niche interest to me many a time, so that felt feasible enough. Except not really, because the persona is still such a caricature. When I say laughable, I mean I literally laughed out loud in incredulity, multiple times.But then we find out Howard's delusions of grandeur are rooted in actual schizoaffective disorder. Nope. No. This book was published in 2023. Far too recently for an extra stigmatized mental illness to be trotted out as a catch-all excuse for someone being a domestic terrorist. With a doting partly-to-blame mother on the periphery? Come on.Especially given the readiness with which actual public figures pin actual gun violence tragedies on mental illness. Especially given that people suffering with these conditions (often untreated, because getting a diagnosis let alone finding helpful treatment is ridiculously inaccessible in the US) are much more of a threat to themselves than to others.And yes, I finished the book, so yes, I know that Howard was pernicious in his own right but also a red herring, but if the book were more nuanced and less exhausting, Deek could have armchair diagnosed his neighbor as someone dangerously mentally ill, without that ever being confirmed. Howard's dead, Jules is dead, Deek's planning to kill Emma, who's going to question it?Why not, with the rest of the stupendously lazy writing? Basically, because this was integrated into an Emma chapter instead of the book within the book, why should I believe that Deek is the lazy writer, and not Taylor Adams himself?Ever since 2015 when someone first ran for office, I have been plagued by our inability to differentiate mental illness from assholes and/or losers. The need to pathologize someone's personality as delusional or a narcissist, instead of them just sucking. You know what I find more compelling than the hook being that someone is schizophrenic or has DID? The idea that most murderers are really just overcompensating absolute losers. Men are scared women will laugh at them, women are scared men will kill them type vibe. Misogynist violence is still an overarching social issue, arguably a public health crisis. Why isn't that enough, on its own? Or even pair it with the idea of history being penned by the victors. Howard says to never rewrite, but all of his (“his”) writing IS rewriting. He rewrites history — his agility and reaction times, attractiveness, pain tolerance. I think that would be interesting to explore, too. But no, let's just emphasize that Howard is fat instead. How else could we know he's a bad person? It's simpler this way.Okay that rant is over, onto my next one which should be shorter. Eventually, and I do mean eventually, we find out that Emma fled because she accidentally killed her and Shawn's baby by getting into a car accident. She was texting while driving on the highway, hoping to cut short seeing Shawn's family, who she dislikes. The wreck happens after Shawn begs her a few separate times to pay attention behind the wheel. And then there's that voicemail from Shawn at the end where he emphatically says “What happened to our daughter is not your fault.” I mean...is it not? I'm not saying she did it on purpose, I'm not saying she should never forgive herself or live a life afterwards, I'm not saying she deserves to be alone or even without her husband. But also, maybe don't text on the highway while your husband pleads with you to stop and a baby on board? All to get out of staying with your mother-in-law? Right? Shawn could have just as easily said something like, “I don't hold what happened against you, I promise. I love you and want to be together. Please come home.”I dunno, man. Something rubs me the wrong way about the collateral damage being a delivery driver, someone with a severe mental illness and a literal baby, but the dog gets saved. Buoy for Laika, I love Laika. But just, agh. Maybe No Exit was a one-off.
Is it too late to become a volcanologist?
A great primer on volcanoes for young readers that taught adult me more than I care to admit. How volcanoes form islands but can also cause tsunamis, the Ring of Fire around the Pacific tectonic plate, how Earth's underwater volcanoes nurture life deep in the ocean where it's usually cold and dark, well beyond sunlight. How volcanoes on other planets can erupt with ice instead of lava. Love the “megaphones of magma” turn of phrase.
The illustrations are stunning and full of movement. I like how the text moves to the side to let them shine. Very good book. Five stars despite the ominous “WHAT IS COMING” messaging peppered throughout the book jacket.
I wanted to read this ahead of an upcoming author visit. It is a pretty book about how bold and assertive girls are often called divas, but that label can wrongly indicate high maintenance or unkindness. Instead, girls should own and never dull their “sweet fire,” confident that their fierce passion is a force for good, not the other way around.
It's an interesting book, but I wondered about reclaiming the term “diva” itself, instead of insinuating that the descriptor may fit others, and has an inevitably derogatory connotation. I'm also extra sensitive to the idea that girls and women are uniquely tasked with nurturing potential in others, instead of themselves. That is definitely a me thing.
A vivid, surreal story about being okay with changing your mind about who you are and what you want to be and do, instead of sticking with past choices that have morphed into stifling inevitability.
When we let ourselves step outside of what we have always done or feel “meant” for, others may follow our example. Together, we can create exciting new dynamics where instead of things falling apart, life and productivity are sustained in new, lively ways.
A translated Dutch picture book about the hollow denial of grief, not knowing how to stay solemn or what to do or say, and sharing in sadness with others. I did not like the art style, which feels mean to say, but is true about me. The tone also felt a little bit off, but I am sure it could mean a lot and resonate to different readers.
A lovely, bright picture book about finding predictability and comfort in the minutiae of our vast, chaotic world. The pictures are stunning and I liked the font.
This would have spoken to my anxious kid heart, as someone who can still get overwhelmed by the big picture and needs to refocus on immediate surroundings or details to calm my nervous system. There is more info about patterns and activity ideas in the back of the book. I was most pleasantly surprised by the text linking the concept of patterns to the consistent love all children should expect and deserve to receive.
Kind of a less creepy version of [b:Love You Forever|310259|Love You Forever|Robert Munsch|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1348832754l/310259.SX50.jpg|277308], Call Your Mother is about how people lean on their moms throughout their lives, including when they themselves become parents.
It is a focused narrative, without much room for dads or other parental figures, but it does not claim to be otherwise. The pages are nice and thick, and I can see this bringing comfort to moms and their little ones alike, while also encouraging readers to ask for help when you need it.
I liked the illustrations quite a bit, but was expecting more explanation into why people use they/them pronouns. To me, it felt abrupt to go right from “Good morning” to “Not he or she, I'm me.”
This is a sweet and quaint (yet also vibrantly depicted) story about the course of a child's day, getting ready, going to school, and making new friends. I did also appreciate the “them even when alone” page — how it showed that while gender has to do with how others refer to us, it has as much (if not more) to do with how we think of and refer to ourselves.
An absolutely endearing book about a woman tormented by her past albeit much more by her present self.
Enid is a lesbian with (romantic and platonic, pretty much across the board) commitment issues. She is deaf in one ear and addicted to true crime podcasts . She works as an information architect for a NASA-esque company.
Everything about Enid is either intensely relatable or bafflingly inexplicable. Relegating your own disabilities and mental health challenges to the backburner to focus on family members instead? So true it hurts. Hating all landlords? Check. Being truly, genuinely terrified of bald men? What are you talking about.
This book won me over completely. It somehow both reminded me of [b:Eleanor Oliphant|31434883|Eleanor Oliphant Is Completely Fine|Gail Honeyman|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1493724347l/31434883.SY75.jpg|47327681] and that Reddit post about the guy who got carbon monoxide poisoning.
The cast of characters is flawed but sympathetic and human, and their interactions can be startlingly hilarious. The moments they are honest are explosions of vulnerability after trying to keep it together or ignore what is really going on. When people do finally open up, the relief I felt as a reader was palpable, because I had gotten so caught up in the characters' confusion and panic and dread.
Suffice it to say, this is a new favorite. From the music sandwiching the story to Natalie Naudus' expressive narration to reveals that were simultaneously stupid and clever, this book is one for the books.
A colorful, short, simple introductory message about bodily autonomy, consent, and personal boundaries. I enjoyed it much more than [b:Will Ladybug Hug?|37825430|Will Ladybug Hug?|Hilary Leung|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1523871873l/37825430.SX50.jpg|59503670].
A sweet little picture book about how everyone in families can help with domestic labor to keep home feeling warm, bright, and safe.
It reminded me of how serene Ice Bear makes cooking and cleaning look in We Bare Bears, and I like the idea of helping kids be cognizant of the logistics and effort behind making sure everyone gets fed, clothed, bathed, and taken to various appointments and activities. Not in a guilt-trippy way, but to encourage them to feel part of and participate in the larger dynamic, in age-appropriate ways.
The rhyming felt a little forced to me at times, I wish the phrasing had been less clunky. And, as diverse as the characters were, there was a distinct lack of disability and how that can profoundly impact upkeep with household tasks. To be clear, it did not claim to address this. It just felt like a (maybe unfair/unreasonable) blindspot to me personally, especially compared to the nuanced representation of, say, [b:Bodies Are Cool|55333940|Bodies Are Cool|Tyler Feder|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1603738739l/55333940.SX50.jpg|86294444].
A quiet Japanese novel about a cast of unmoored characters who, in different chapters, stumble across the same wise librarian.
Each time, the librarian makes them a short list of books, with a last title seemingly unrelated to anything they told her. The wildcard book inevitably piques their interest and changes their lives, reframing how they think about work, success, and themselves.
This is a love letter to libraries, so it is no surprise I liked it. What I didn't expect was how much Aoyama focused on employment — how much our jobs can impact our quality of life and sense of self, lulling us into apathy even as ennui leads us to forget how we got somewhere, feeling like passive, unaccomplished beings that life happens to instead of active changemakers.
A sweet aspect of the text is that when people open up to those around them about how they are feeling, making a big change, or both, they are met with support and acceptance. No one drops the ball on being happy for their loved ones, or doubts their odds of making something happen. Their responses are a reassuring balm instead of a volatile plot device. Maybe a little idyllic, but in another sense, the bare minimum.
Aoyama also discusses how books hold meaning determined not only by their authors and editors and publishers, but also by each and every reader who interprets the text differently, based on their perspective and circumstances. Different people reading the same book will have vastly different, sometimes contradictory takeaways. Likewise, rereading books at a different time in life can resonate much differently than before.
Handing someone a book cannot change their life if they never open it, and we will never be able to predict how someone else (or even we ourselves) will take to it. This interactive potential is what makes art and media (made by humans, not generative AI, don't get me started) consequential. Because sometimes we don't know what we're looking for until we find it.
~coming back to add a quick CW about fatphobia, which IMO was almost too cartoonish to be hurtful, but was definitely a running theme~
Very focused on the Women's March, and some of the protest signs pictured felt vague, like they had been watered down to be more palatable. But also, what was the Women's March if not palatable? I can say that, as a DC attendee.
Still, for some reason this book made me emotional, tearing up at work. Protest can seem scary and intimidating from the outside, but participation can be so affirming, healing, and rejuvenating. Within crowds where we feared getting lost and our voices being drowned out, we find the opposite. We remember that we are not alone, that we are powerful, and when we stand up and fight, we will win.
A little bit of a time capsule in some ways, but also a unique and accessible way to demystify a crucial way people exercise their rights and express themselves.
One of my favorite books of the year, full of flawed and compelling characters making their best out of limited and at times terrifying circumstances. Read beautifully on audio by Elle Fanning.
Margo is a young single mother whose talents and interests have always been confined by her economic background. The book is about her desperately trying to get a handle on life with a baby, surrounded by eclectic undergraduate roommates, a professional wrestler father, and a mother whose new relationship teeters atop stacks and stacks of lies.
She stumbles into OnlyFans (I just googled whether that was one or two words on a work computer without thinking), and sex work becomes a uniquely flexible and lucrative avenue for her to provide for her family. Still, people in her life judge her harshly for viewing this as her best option, questioning her judgment and fitness as a mother.
The book is really a story about how money (or lack thereof) ties directly into the consequences for your actions. If you have exorbitant wealth, nothing is illegal — you can mess up, slack off, be callous and cruel and selfish, and face minimal if not zero repercussions.
But if you lack financial and social supports, you can make one mistake, have one bad day, and that's it. Sometimes something even happens adjacent to you, in your general vicinity, and that's enough. You are condemned, cooked. This is definitive, permanent proof that you are undeserving, unworthy, depraved, reckless.
Margo's greatest challenge (and this is a competitive category), is to be brave enough to believe she deserves love, happiness, and success, in a world eager to punish her for who they believe she is. She is my hero and I love her. Really great book. Really great writing. Really great book.
For fans of [b:Fierce Femmes|32279708|Fierce Femmes and Notorious Liars|Kai Cheng Thom|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1480517872l/32279708.SY75.jpg|52903547], [b:Interior Chinatown|44436221|Interior Chinatown|Charles Yu|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1639073843l/44436221.SX50.jpg|69005176], [b:Belly Up|35128563|Belly Up|Eva Darrows|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1527451038l/35128563.SY75.jpg|56448240], Juno, and [b:My Year of Rest and Relaxation|44279110|My Year of Rest and Relaxation|Ottessa Moshfegh|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1597676656l/44279110.SY75.jpg|55508660].
The Expectant Detectives is a cozy mystery set in a quaint, imaginary town called Penton. Alice and her boyfriend Joe (and their disaster of a dog, Helen) have relocated from London to Penton in anticipation of having a baby, yearning for a quieter life in the great outdoors.
Alice is very pregnant and Penton is full of people shoving essential oils and raspberry leaf tea at her in place of an epidural. She finds herself attending a birthing class on the upper level of a homeopathic shop when a fellow classmate starts birthing right then and there. While this is happening, the owner of the shop is murdered downstairs.
The birthing class attendees, one-by-one, begin distracting themselves from the impending unknowns of childbirth and parenthood by investigating the murder. Imagine a group of 8-month pregnant women trouncing through deep woods hunting a murderer on the loose while all of their partners beg them to please stop doing that. It is ridiculous and funny.
My main qualm about this book is that the ending felt very hurried and slapdash. Of course, mysteries are often a slow build to an ending. Still, the reveal was rushed, we skipped over the end of most of the pregnancies (I mean, that part was kind of fine with me), and the naming ceremony at the end had very Albus Severus vibes and by that I mean it was awful.
My lesser qualm about this book is that the characters are pretty one-note, to the point where they are all slightly unbearable because what human is so much of one thing and so nothing of any other thing. Alice is too chaotic and obtuse, Poppy is too determined, Ailsa is too preachy, Hen is too perfect. If the characters had been a little more dimensional, it would have been easier to believe they were growing to like one another.
Still, this was a fun escapist romp and I would probably read more of the series. I also want to try hummingbird cake now.