N. Mahurin

I planned on reading one small story at a time. The novella drug me under. I did not come up for air until the last page. My feeling at the end was: "Well, ain't that just the way?" There was something poignant in each one. Just enough description and pacing for me.

Most of the stories leave you with a feeling of what the hell? Was more surprised when the ending worked out. I enjoyed the subversion of expectations and the use of the mundane as fright. As per usual, some didn't hit for me. But I thoroughly enjoyed "Shock Wave" as the final one. Would recommend as a foray into his writing for sure.

This novel resembled a museum exhibit. It was something whose pages I entered, experienced, thought about after I left, and now, it is somewhere I've visited. A series of words intended to be felt and studied. It left no particularly profound effect on me, and yet I can sense something within me has been irrevocably changed. The nature of this text has always been polarising, and it's interesting to feel exactly that. It is not mine to have an opinion on.

DNF at page 51.

Interesting premise, lovely idea. Poor execution. The prose is dry. I had no indication of what anybody looked like nor grounding in the scenes. The slapstick element missed hard for me. I wasn't expecting super serious horror per se with a museum of oddities — but I was expecting cohesive and alive. This is neither.

I read this for a book club as January's pick to explore some "romantasy" that seems to be taking over the shelves. For me, this was a rather middle of the road one. There were things I enjoyed, and things I didn't, as all things are. Here's what I liked:

1. It was a quick, simple read. Easily digestible. I read the entire thing in less than two hours of timed reading. It flowed very quickly.
2. It was fun in a corny way. It was like the fantasy version of watching a classic cult film like "Scream" ( quality of prose non-withstanding ). Pretty hilarious dialogue bits, some of the cheesiness that I expected. The "You missed." made me laugh out loud.
3. Mean Girls, as the Hunger Games, with dragons. Not necessarily a bad thing. It reminded me of my teenager telling me all about high school and its escapades.
4. The erotica was some of the better I've read, despite that corniness as well.
5. Her being pale being given an actual reason, confirmed by the author, as disability rep was a pleasant surprise. Also, the willingness to let Violet appear weak, which is a novelty.
6. I loved Xaden's innate ability and dragon bond. ( No more info here to avoid spoilers. )

What I disliked or could've left outside the door:

1. Too digestible. I know she made this as a more accessible fantasy read, but there is a difference between accessible and blank. I rarely knew what was going on in the world itself. I couldn't tell you a thing about how the Wings work, what the Dragons have going on, the politics besides the mentions of war. I had little descriptions to ground myself in, and the ones I did have ... ( see point 2 )
2. The descriptions were vapid. If I read one more "soft brown eyes" or "tender squeeze of the bicep" I was going to throttle the protagonist. I also understand it's intended to be romantic fantasy, but I was sore for the fantasy elements. I wanted more about the bonds, I wanted more serious emotions. Being "told" how I was supposed to feel via Violet saying it multiple times did zero for me.
3. Re: cheesy dialogue. Some of it should've been unwritten. The attempt at the love triangle was dubious.
4. Although "pale skin" is given a medical representation reason, considering the over-saturation of focus on protagonists who are light-skinned, and knowing Violet's other family members are briefly said to be darker / medium, I do wonder if there is some colourism, unintentional or otherwise, in this choice. Not everybody with EDS goes pale.
5. I appreciated the signs of weakness; at the same time, that did need to be balanced. The "saving" mechanism only worked up until the third time. Also, if she received one more injury to the ribs, she would be dead by page 150.
6. The second erotica scene contained some elements that made me laugh. I'm sorry.

I will not be continuing the series, but am glad I read it.

Some things took me by surprise. Other things did not. The plot itself was simple, the melding of two worlds even more so. It was spoken about in a complex way. When there were rambles, they mostly interested me and always had a pay-off of some kind. Sometimes, it's about the things which are left unsaid. Not everything in life can be tied up in bows and ribbons, signed and delivered to the doorstep. Sometimes we get lost along the way and never reach the original destination. I will not re-read it, but I will keep it forever.

I took Professor Miller's class on the optative back in 2013-2014. I was pleased to see the analysis of several texts and conversations that I recognised make it into this novel, as well as some expansion on points that we didn't have time to reach in the class. Back then, it was one of the most life-changing experiences I ever had. Still I remember how reading Thomas Hardy's “The Going” aloud shifted something in my brain. This novel was no different. It was difficult to get through in the sense that I kept having to put it down to think; this is not a mindless read. I read it during the month that I needed it the most, sitting closely with my grief, the same that was affecting me back then. Though I don't remember the exact conversation, I do remember Prof. Miller finding me after that class where I read the poem and us discussing things more thoroughly. This novel felt like a conversation. I will be re-reading it again. It has once again adjusted how I wish to write my own novels moving forward.

If you are looking for life and text analysis that will unsettle you and make you consider your POVs, this is the novel for you. If you're not, you will dislike it. And perhaps that makes a difference too. I am simply glad that this is not one of the books that will be left un-read for me in this life.

Unfortunately, this one was a miss for me. I enjoyed the story, I wanted to connect so much to the characters, but that part kept losing me. I felt as though there was an imbalance of telling vs. show and always felt somewhat at a distance from everything going down. I objectively enjoyed the twists and turns and how everything ended - but it was like looking at a photograph that got left out in the sun. The picture's intention is still on the page, but the colours are blanched and the edges are blurry.

At first, a confounding dream. Difficult to get through, lots of information to absorb. Then, somewhere in the middle, it arrested me. I found myself reading it at the kitchen table and not having the slightest idea what time it was when I would close the book and have to take a breath. And in the end, when the questions got answered, I felt myself gasp. I'm not sure if I'll remember anything specific from this book; but I will remember that arresting feeling.

This was an interesting journey. Literary and surreal and horrific in a lot of parts, but very real. I did follow the plot for the most part; it's my own fault that I kept stopping and starting and losing my place. I will say that in some places, it was almost too surrealist. Although it didn't derail nor read in an entirely confusing manner, it was still somewhat difficult to follow. I don't think it needed more “explanation” but rather more expansion. There's a lot that could've been “more” in that sense and it only would've added to how tasty the baseline prose already was. The story itself tugged at me and the sense of being “trapped” and how those tables turned (no spoilers) was really well done. But I was not entirely captivated with this one.

A wonderful slice-of-life book that spends a good amount slowly setting up the scene in order to break it apart into polaroid-like fragments. It's a metaphor for how the book itself is written: with one perspective, then others building atop each other in a mishmash of a collage. No one will ever truly be aware of how one photograph connects to the other, not even the one who put them together. Having to be at peace with not receiving closure in the ways one would want.

The writing style reminded me of what you might find in a fictional memoir. The characters were all alive, even if nothing was centred on them (as in, the side characters were breathing too). Everyone is a grey area, everyone has their reasons and a lot are justified and a lot aren't, including the darker side of their decisions. There were a lot of parts that spoke to me; I appreciated the subtlety but blunt refusal to relent with which a lot of “small town” micro-aggressions were written. Nothing about this didn't feel real, and that's so rare to find with literature in general.

Part of me almost wanted the little fires to be caused by something or someone else. But in a way, the “culprit” being given away early, and the rest of the novel more so exploring what that means, is more fitting of the narrative. Another metaphor as to how some of us get tightly closed up with our fear and others set a literal match to it to start over. Still, I would definitely recommend this novel to others and also re-read it, which is a rare thing for me to say.

A sorrowful, poignant, character-driven novel (sometimes to a fault) that has multiple climaxes (the pun is intentional) and just as many emotional spirals. Although I did not feel as though there were moments to breathe, and I would have liked the setting to be as tasty as the characters, I found myself invested in how it would end, and it ended rather satisfyingly (and bravely). I took off a star because of the slight detachment I experienced in some parts and because for me, this will be a once-read book. But it is worth reading for the insane historical accuracy; a true historical drama at its best.

I am biased when it comes to reading, enjoying, and critiquing Lewis's works, and his lettres are no different. It soothes me to read that a prolific writer shares many of my personal views, particularly on how literature must be written and how modernism is... a certain set of fractured guidelines.

Of course, some of the tidbits of advice are outdated. Women do indeed enjoy fantasy, very much so, Mr. Lewis — and may we thank the Creator for that. Regardless of those that must be taken with a grain of salt, and with the time period of his life taken into consideration as well, this collection is a well-read, mindfully arranged collection of points to think about. To mull over and to take into an arsenal to improve as a writer. He has been there, done that, and speaks on it without much ego.

An unexpected, but pleasant, find.

A quick-paced, plot-tight read of indigenous fantasy, of which there needs to be much more of. But at the same time — it was almost too quick-paced, and too plot-tight.

The points I enjoyed:
— The character voice of Serapio. The gentleness combined with the “doomed to be a monstrosity and what is that, truly?” question was wonderful to read, whether in flashback or in present day.
— The way each chapter was woven together. It truly was an air-tight plot. It flowed seamlessly one point into the next. Everything did have a purpose, however strong or weak that purpose was in the actual narrative.
— The world. Reading about a pre-colonial world that wasn't “we're stuck in a period piece” was a breath of fresh air. You could smell and taste the rich traditions. There was no shying away from what others might deem as “harsh” or “backwards” or “grotesque.” (Leaving out details to avoid spoilers.)
— The ending. I was relieved it didn't end the way I thought it would — or rather, the way that we were led to believe that we were doomed to read, so to speak.

The points that missed for me:
— The other character voices. Although I enjoyed all of them as concepts, what they could do, and how their arcs sustained them — their voices weren't unique enough for me to grasp. If I didn't have dialogue tags every sentence, I would have no idea who was speaking because after a while, they all blended together and sounded the same. Naranpa and Xiala mirrored each other in their voices (frustrated, coming from rough backgrounds, had enough and taking action) — and Okoa was not there long enough for me to connect to, and was overshadowed by Serapio until the end. Serapio was the strongest for me.
— The air-tight plot. It read quickly. I've seen some perspectives indicating that the beginning was slow and painstaking — but I didn't find that to be the case. I found it to be the right pace; and then, the rest of it after they were established, characterisation was cast aside for the sake of the plot moving quickly. There were times where I wished the writing had lingered. On the environment, on the action outside of the POV, on the characters' emotions, just lingering in general. I felt like I would just get comfortable sitting in someone's POV, and then, we would switch or something else would happen. I felt a bit like I was underwater without a lot of air to breathe in.
— The world. Because I could taste its richness, I wanted to taste more. I got a clear picture, again, in the beginning and sometimes in the middle — but otherwise, I found the descriptions to err on the side of blandness. I'm not sure if there was a lot cut to meet word-count or page-count, but I think it was cut to a fault, if that's the case. This could have benefitted from being a fantasy of truly epic proportions — The Wheel of Time length, LOTR length. Let us have flesh.
— The writing style. Not in the sense that Ms. Roanhorse has a weak voice; she has a strong one and a commanding one. However, despite this being marketed as adult ... it read as YA to me.

It was good, and I will read the sequels in the series to come. But it left me a bit on the “...damn” side instead of the “wow!” side.

The shifting in perspectives, and the particular absence of one, was enough to pique interest all throughout. There are also certain scenes (spoilers, spoilers!) that had me rooting. Robert Jordan has this knack for spreading out the different chapters in a manner where, even if you don't necessarily like the POV that you're reading, you continue to read in order to get back to the chapters you do. And I'm not disappointed yet. I am a bit uncertain about certain character arcs, not quite sure how some (who are lagging behind) are going to catch up, but I suppose that's what the rest of the books are for.

The adventure continues.

As spellbinding of a narrative, with more delving into character backstories. The development of a certain few has me nailed to the chair, continuing to read for more. I had to knock off a star for some of the arguments and misunderstandings, but that's a personal non-preference. The ending, without providing spoilers, is one that made me pause and tear up. I'm not sure if this is age catching up with me and making me want hopeful things, good things, things full of revelation — but I loved it. The reason doesn't matter. The star also got knocked off because, the pacing was still good, but not as much so as the first one. Regardless, I would re-read it, so, who's the real fool?

An exceptional dive back into the fantasy realm that I didn't realise I was sorely missing. I watched the show first, and then have picked up the novels after feeling both scintillated and disappointed enough in certain parts of the show, upon recommendation from someone. (Who has been recommending them for several years, but here we are.) And I can see why.

The world-building is sublime, and somehow, easier to follow than most of the novels I've read, despite how there is so much of it all at once. Robert Jordan is a crafter at these tidbits, not ever truly succumbing to information-dumping. His characters read as real, true people. There was so much dialogue, I was a bit uncertain if it would become dried out, or redundant; but it was balanced, and the interactions were enough to whisk you away right into them. The pacing was also excellent; for me, I never felt bored. There were enough pause moments, arguments, and developments in silence, that I felt like things were slow; but there was also the endless sense of urgent danger, of the chase, of the shadow following after, that it was never a wondering of whether or not there was a point.

All in all, I'm looking forward to travelling alongside them as they continue their adventures. I'm already gleaning my favourite characters out; and despite some things perhaps being a bit “I saw that coming,” it's delivered in a method that makes me feel satisfied for guessing. There are also plenty of things that I didn't really see coming.

Like a lot of books of this nature, I gleaned a lot of good, whole nourishment from about the first five to six chapters or so. And then, that's when it should've ended. Sometimes, Biblical studies / books tend to go on for a bit longer than they need to, something I've seen across the board. If you're new in your faith journey, this is definitely a good way to be reminded that the living water will be that which quenches your thirst. It's also something that you can only say so many times, in so many different ways.

Been a while since I read a YA novel that I enjoyed.

Fast-paced, enriched and descriptive in culture, a fun and page-turning read. I winced when I saw how young the protagonists were, and there were some overtly dramatic moments and one-liners that had me covering my eyes with my hand in secondhand embarrassment. YA is a writing style that I've definitely outgrown, which has just been reinforced by reading this. But all-in-all, it was good, and I'll be continuing the series. I do hope that we have some more breathing moments and some more character arcs in the novels to follow; I thoroughly enjoyed the finale, despite all of the teenage-language-riddled jidaigeki. I would've enjoyed it more if it was adult protagonists, geared towards adults. That's not to say that teenagers can't save the world, but should we be putting the pressure on them to do it? Hm, hm. Anyways! Enjoyable.

I'm glad I gave this one a chance.

The pacing in this one is excellent, as are the dives into the characters. I found myself invested from the get-go, and the different threads interconnecting them were fascinating. The explanations of the culture were better integrated into the narrative, as opposed to resembling historical subtext dumps, and the plot wove itself into a wonderful tapestry. I was a little uncertain about the romance choice, without stating outright spoilers, and despite the methodology of making it make sense, and having its solid origins, I didn't quite come around to it. In my opinion, it would have been fine without a romance at all. That would be my only complaint, I think.

The mystery and intrigue of the “in-between” had me biting my nails; every character had a purpose, and the change-up between perspectives ( first-person and third are both utilised ) had me gripped. I would read this one again, despite knowing how the story ends. Truly good.

A pensive, introspective read that left me wanting more. I wouldn't mind if an entire novel was written about this, instead of a shorter novella. The series of things that happen after dark, delving more into the lives and connections of the characters. All of the characters, complex and intimate, and connected in strange ways. Enough description, poignant and pointed dialogue. Left no questions that felt unanswered. I would read it again, but also it's one of those that I want to remain preserved in its first-reading shell. Magical nonsense and real, true to life.

An intense character study about the unravelling of the self for the sake of others. Morrison took this by the reins and forces you to stare different versions of corruption in the face. Not for the faint of heart; potentially triggering content in the latter one-third of the book. Speculative, intrinsic. In some places, it felt as though it was too slow and speculative, but these places paid off through how she wove all of the threads together. Beware of a non-too-happy ending, but sometimes, that's life.

My first foray into reading Toni Morrison; this is a wild scream of a book. Intellectual and casual prose, mingled with character development and relationships and madness, mingled with the real-time decay of an ages-old friendship. It was like watching a karma wheel go around and around, and the ending was satisfying in a strange way. It has definitely piqued my interest into reading more of Toni Morrison's books. More deep-dives into the inner workings of what makes a soul? Please. With this splash of magical realism and that suspension of disbelief, there really wasn't a single disinteresting part to me.

[ DNF, page 50. ]

This book had been recommended to me several times over the years. In my opinion, the hype was ... too much. Two stars for the impeccable, lush lore and for the intriguing concept of ghost brides and being haunted by wandering spirits. However, the prose itself did not take me away into the story. I kept waiting to be incredibly captivated, or feel unease, or connect to our protagonist, Li Lan, and I wanted to keep going to see if it would happen, but, unfortunately, for me, it hasn't. This treads the line between adult novel and YA novel, and doesn't sound like either. It reads like a memoir? And that isn't necessarily a bad thing, but I got tired of being told / reported everything instead of just swept into what was going on. Events were recounted, not encountered. People were described, not seen. I'm not sure if that makes sense, and maybe somewhere down the line, I'll finish it, but it won't be now.

An excellent, emotional family-saga that ties all of the pieces together. Part two came out of nowhere and took me backwards into a time and place that I didn't want to leave; this was both a service and a disservice. When we came back to the “modern day,” I felt like I was swimming in a fish bowl. There were parts of me that wished it was longer, that there was more to talk about, but at the same time, it ended exactly where it needed to. The long-lasting effects of the choices of your ancestors, and how you bear the weight of them, is something I heavily identified with; there were many moments where I covered my mouth and had to look away, as though I was watching something painful and intimate. A great first dive into Amy Tan as an author, and encouraging enough that I want to read more of her novels in the future.