alyssa
[3.5] impulse control is not my strong suit. i see “ace” anything, and my finger's clicking on the request button before i can even register the movement. sprinkle on some harvest moon reminiscent chickens (the cover art is gorgeous! so gorgeous, in fact, i had to scour the web for the artist: https://cherriielle.portfolio.site/fanzine-covers) and the hidden identity trope of connecting over socmed without knowing exactly whom they're chatting with (what i lovingly call “the unintentional catfish”), and my seatbelt was long buckled.
i'll admit i had my reservations at the start: the teen snarkage bordered on too much too fast, and i was worried the massive chip on newly-appointed student council president Wren's shoulder would compel him to take anything and everything unfavorable as a personal affront after nemesis and vice president Leo upends his agenda.
however, as we got into the meat of his arc, he gradually unfurled his layers and endeared himself to me.
“It feels like an asterisk after my name, or a warning label on the back of my head.”
wrong
it was powerful to see the common fear of not knowing what to do with our life extend to ruminations of “what's the point?” in a boy forced to face loss at a young age. my only wish was that his grief had been explored further in his interactions with his father. there was also a big twisty twist that was later nixed in a single, one-off line that had me questioning what was true/false. it was strange how quickly it was brushed off, but it didn't detract from the warm fuzzies i got during the confession scene.
there's something so alluring about characters from two starkly different backgrounds who, through each fateful encounter, learn to step in each other's shoes by degrees: whittling down the enormous chips on their shoulders, swapping out their lens of privilege, coming to recognize that their sweeping biases and assumptions were sorely misdirected.
the shifting of worldviews. the intimacy of a reluctant admission of their misjudgment.
Tag and Jay sparked that fire for me, and i knew i was a goner the first time Tag approached Jay's anxiety and past trauma with so much perceptiveness, infinite sensitivity. we all deserve to be treated in that manner.
i must confess my goldfish brain did royally fail me here: low recall of “the story thus far” (apart from my soft spot for Owen and Mason) might've contributed to the unfortunate sensation that i was slogging through the first chunk of chapters. i also thought it could've done with more on-page moments of them doing non-play-related things together, even though i'm fully aware they're two actors actively rehearsing and the play is at the center of their connection
[3.4~3.5] i'm too distracted by the One Piece live action to write a proper review, but this worked great as a casual listen, despite the plot's repetitiveness and my brain's inability to separate the narrator's voice from his performance of Gary the Unicorn. let's just say it made for some interesting scenes in my head
[3.4~3.5] the romance admittedly leaves a lot to be desired, but i enjoyed the deep dive into Oscar's family history and vengeful spirits. i hesitate to recommend this series if you're not in for the main show aka the spooky kicks, but for those on the lookout for an exciting ghost hunting adventure, venture full steam ahead!
[3.4] i'm just a bundle of conflict with my ratings lately, but i blame it entirely on real life being a butt nugget (top-tier insult, i know) and forbidding me from consuming stories in just a few sittings.
i absolutely loved the Big Event in the title - it was played out in such a characteristically Valor & Doyle way that had the whole gamut of emotions flipping through my body with every other paragraph. they're too precious, and i'd offer more terms but everything feels spoiler-y so i'll refrain
they must've installed faulty pipes, because these tears won't stop leaking.
i prepared to write this with my heart lodged in my throat, but i can't muster up more than a few words - this book more than speaks for itself on a magnitude only felt in your bones. Michael Nava masterfully casts the rawest light on gay history in America: the shame, alienation, and self-hatred. the misguided beliefs curdled in fear of the unknown.
a must-read lest we forget the community's numerous sacrifices.
[3.9] imagine being doomed to repeat the same day, forever on loop in true groundhog day fashion. that's Clark's reality as each iteration plays out the same old way. that is... until it doesn't.
as Clark works to uncover the mechanisms behind his predicament, he also embarks on a personal journey of empathy, vulnerability, and human connection. his character arc shone in brilliant rays, and as the bulk of the story, i was certainly not dissatisfied.
warning to those thinking of picking this up solely in hopes of an epic YA romance: i'd recommend giving it a skip if that's the only thing catching your eye. the romance tag is a bit disingenuous in that very little pagetime is actually dedicated to the romantic interest (felt like <5%), his inclusion, minuscule development, and later ilys falling short. however, if you're looking for a compelling tale exploring loneliness, growth, and interpersonal relationships, i think you'll enjoy this.
i'm so conflicted right now. i absolutely adore Murderbot and its adventures, so of course, i was looking forward to this first full-length novel. but after a series of novellas, my attention stubbornly refused to stop floating adrift. i shifted to reverse countless times just to catch up with the plot, but doubling back every so often made for a tiring experience. i'll consider giving it another go in the future, but onto the next in the meantime
He ignored me, but he said to Pin-Lee, "A rogue unit would have left a trail of dead bodies across this station.”I said, “Maybe I wanted the trail to start here.”
[4.5] i think this is one of the first sci-fi books i've read where a robot is on a journey of personhood, but also doesn't strive to be human. in many ways, it, in fact, pities humans for being so mediocre - we're slow, we're unreliable, we're greedy. we're saddled with a plethora of unwieldy feelings like anxiety and fear. we hold a limitless capacity for hurt and hate. early days Murderbot would say the only thing we had going for us was tv serials.
but through demonstrations of the opposite in interactions with its found family crew, of loyalty and love and worry and care, we're reminded of the beauty in the madness. that our failings can be matched, if not eclipsed, by our successes. our boundless potential.
idealizing humankind has always been a sore point for me, because humans can suck.
majorly so.
but i guess we can be pretty darn awesome too.
[3.4~3.5] rounding up for my love of Murderbot, but this was the weakest for me so far based on the ensemble of characters he encounters on this leg of his journey. i just didn't find them as compelling as those we've met previously (don't mind me secretly clamoring for them to reappear as soon as possible!)
