Mari

Such a cozy read--love it.

Thrills, chills, twists and turns expertly delivered on all counts. This book is dark as pitch but oh so very good.

Harry Potter and Hunger Games had a baby with dragons and dragon riders--I was all in right from the first page. Yes, book nerds cna be dragon-riding warriors too! This was a quick, fun read with rapid-fire drama and action. Luckily the love triangle between over-controlling Dain and mysterious shadow-weilding Xaden did overtake the main story or Violet character growth. The spice, what little exists, was more graphic than I thought! The whiplash in tone shift make me cackle. Still, I can't wait to read the sequel as I learn more about the world as the stakes get even higher.

A true emotional roller coaster about friendship and what people think is friendship until they take a hard look inside themselves.

A spontaneous friendship: Caitlin, the dazzling heiress who eccentrically runs around The Island barefoot and Vix, the poor girl from the opposite side of the tracks who is trying to forge her own path.

Blume writes children so very well. Caity and Vix's summer adventures on The Island felt so real, especially when they did terribly stupid things. Kids have to be free to make mistakes so they can learn from them.

Puberty took the form of The Power, and it made me smile every time. Womxn do have a power all their own. Caity and Vix's summers on The Island were so sweet and adorable, a coming-of-age tale.

Vix's courage and tenacity to say no to Caity's wanderlust is admirable, especially while she's constantly being eclipsed by Caity. Vix gives Caity so much of herself, but Caity just doesn't value their friendship the same way.

I almost out this book down half a dozen times due to the choppy POV shifts from peripheral characters cluttering the main character arcs and pacing, but I'm glad I stuck with it because I definitely didn't see the end coming.

This is one very satisfying read--from the chaotic intersecting lives of complete strangers, to seeing the puzzle pieces snap into place.

I honestly could see the real world upended by knowing when their time is at an end. The opportunities, the helpers, the selfish, the unstable--everyone felt like living, breathing people.

The only fight I have after turning the last page was Amie's decision. Knowing how it would affect everyone around her, she still took what I felt to be the selfish route, but those people are out there too so still very believable.

A lot of questions can be asked about motivation, anonymity, fulmillment and what it means to lead a life well-lived.

Great read.

Thoroughly enjoyed seeing the sisters come into the own and getting closure on a lot of things. The surprise alliances were exciting and the battles are nothing short of cinematic. Like the previous books, the character-building takes priority in Wings and Ruin while still being a fun and easy read. The spice is tastefully sprinkled in, never gratuitous and always when it makes sense. I'd recommend this series to anyone who enjoys fantasy/sword-and-sorcery.

CW: Marital R, Phys A, Verbal A.

Sandy is just a modern, married girl looking for love in this world of perfect little Stepford wifeys.

Spicy, Desperate Housewives-esque Sandy wants more than to be a fixture in her husband's and children's lives. Yet, she does it in ever wrong way imaginable.

This off-center book could be a strange indie dramedy as Sandy grapples with her libido and need for adventure and love. The voices of so many people's expectations constantly play in her head with every decision Sandy makes.

Sandy made me laugh and made my heart hurt for all the people stuck in terrible relationships. Good read although the ending was abrupt and not my cup of tea.

Solid read, although there's a whole 20% in the middle that could've been cut. The first third and last third were fast-paced and fun, and totally made up for the slow-down in the middle. Stakes are high going into the third book!

A well-crafted second gen Millennial Korean immigrant story told with love and dark humor.

Incredibly beautiful and unique way to tell a story about belonging, chosen family and being comfortable in your own skin.

I didn't read the summary for this book or any reviews--I just read it on hype alone--but this book's entire foundation is abuse and suicide trigger warnings, so please proceed with caution.

Both Lily and Ryle are traumatized people with terrible decision-making skills which, fine, who isn't? But this book tries to make the abuser sympathetic and (arguably) a victim himself, which definitely made me feel a certain type of way.

People can experience a garbage life and still choose not to hurt other people. No matter how much an abuser paints themselves as a victim, they *choose* abuse every single time no matter how many times they gaslight and apologize. And yet the author tries to rewrite that naked truth why? So Lily can decide to keep her abuser's baby, and invite him back into her life so they can divorce and still co-parent together?

All of Ryle's "redeeming" qualities are constantly repeated ad nauseum to maybe illustrate Lily's unprocessed childhood trauma masquerading as love? Or the author trying to convince us that telling an abuser they're a father will magically be their come-to-Jesus moment.

Lily is blind to and then habitually ignores red flags, and Ryle can't stop waving them around from that first moment. That's when I knew this book would mean a lot of heavy sighing and face-palming.

Then enter Elisa, enabler extradinaire, who likely knows everything about her brother but says nothing until it's almost too late. I find that hard to believe. I almost stopped reading at the cafe scene about the older brother.

The book is written well enough, although the repetition of phrases like "and just like that", Ryle's scrubs, etc. were grating.

Lily and Atlas kept me reading. They were the most well-rounded and believable characters, but the rest of the book was a big yikes. The flashbacks added to the story instead of detracted.

But, I can't shake how apologetic the author is about this abuser. The ending seemed paper-thin and left me on edge.

This was a fun, fast-paced read--part Thomas Crown Affair part rom-com--with some beautiful descriptions and methodologies behind drawings, paintings and installations. This book was also part travel memoir with all the French details, history, and descriptions that had me on a nostalgia high.

The bittersweet thread woven throughout the book when Joan remembered about or learned something new about her father, who passed on 9/11, was unexpectedly poignant.

But the entire thing falls a part with the Beckman explanation. Joan motivations for inaction and forgiveness were paper thin at best. One outburst followed by a party doesn't cut it for everything Joan went through!

Joan's arc was great up to that point, and she doesn't lose herself in a man, but even the nice epilogue couldn't push me to a full five stars solely because of Beckman.

"Vanity Fair is a very vain, wicked, and foolishly place, full of a sorts of humbugs and falsenesses and pretensions... Everyone is striving for what is not worth having!"

Thackery's "novel without a hero" is one of the most epic tales full of romance and intrigue I've ever read.

Miss Rebecca Sharp was forcefully thrust into adulthood impoverished child of a painter and an Parisian opera singer. She held her head high and did anything to make a better life for herself and get into Regency-era Society, exactly everything the ton loathed.

But who isn't putting on airs in Vanity Fair? Everyone is flawed, as we all are included the innocent Miss Amelia Sedley and Major William Dobbin--that's a love story for the ages right there. Becky had me cheering and gasping, sometimes on the same page. Talented, determined and unapologetic, that's Becky Sharp.

This book took me a while to read, but I always looked forward to picking it back up and learning what other mischief Becky had gotten herself into.

The story dragged a little during all the intricate details of the Napoleonic Wars, wordy explanations of peerage, Greek, French, Italian and Shakespearian references but I'm glad that was all included to set the stage and raise the stakes of Vanity Fair.

I love this book for it's upstart anti-hero, immersiveness and detailed character histories that span decades.

This book is a stunningly great read—a terrific melding of Old World paganism at odds with New World Puritanism. Some scenes include graphic violence but everything in service to the story.

Abitha found herself in this Puritanical village through her father's terribly choice of making her a mail-order bride to pay off debts. Her kindness is at odds with her own survival as she rediscovers her family's pagan roots in Mother Earth and nature.

Puritans hate all those ideas with a fiery passion—they don't know the meaning live and let live. They're set on everyone and everything fitting into their own little Christian box and killing anyone who doesn't.

Abitha tries to play by their rules but is sabotaged time and again, always falling short of expectation and attacked for it. I was rooting for her from beginning to end.

Honestly, what a poignant allegory about human cruelty when they choose to fear what they don't understand and the consequences just on the other side.

Learning important life lessons like identifying my inner Falter Owl (driven by an astute sense of self-preservation and mentally drained by other owls) and Stunned Guillemot (glassy-eyed acknowledgement of our current hellscape while binging Netflix) deserves at least four stars.

This book is a solid ghost murder mystery with a Sapphic twist with a rich, historical backdrop. I'd actually love to see this book adapted into a movie or limited series.

Solid overview and of Edwardian servant life with so many interesting details and anecdotes covering skills, conduct, personal and professional relationships, etc. People involved with Downton Abbey were also cited. The reference books mentioned are handy resources for further reading. This book's a short read, so anyone looking for a more in-depth treatment should look elsewhere.

This Halt and Catch Fire odyssey through the 90s and 2000s gaming industry is equal parts heartwarming and heartbreaking.

Sadie and Sam met by chance and the trajectory of their lives changed forever. Their platonic friendship bordered on something more but both struggle to bring what that is into focus for the entire book.

As a gamer, the references to real games and creators a lá Ready Player One were easy to follow but Zevin is careful to prioritize and thread context with character development in her storytelling. I loved that the games Sadie and Sam created ran parallel to their relationship and mental and emotional states.

The way Zevin writes neurodivergent Sam was truly beautiful. I understood his triggers and blockers without being told. I understood how his childhood and friendship with Sadie influenced him and his art. Yet, Sam was deep and multifaceted.

Real talk though: Sadie infuriated me to no end in the second half. Her arc seems to putter to a stop and I don't feel she learns or grows from her mistakes, but I couldn't decide if it was out of egoism or self-preservation. She doesn't even apologize to Sam for the way she treated him after <spoiler> what happened to Marx. </spoiler> Sadie was a gaming Scarlet O'Hara, enduring to the point of selfishness in spite of how she used and hurt the people closest to her. <spoiler>Then, she had the gall to blame Sam for her disastrous relationship with Dov. Then she kept her ongoing thing with Dov, even after everything? And her perspective on trying not to look at Naomi because she reminded her of Marx? Naomi thing felt like a prop anyway.</spoiler> Pure cringe. I guess in that respect this book mirrors life--some people get lost in tragedy and let it frame the rest of their lives.

Overall, loved Sadie and Sam's complex relationship and even the ending, as spare as it was. I feel Sadie and Sam were both on their own healing journeys, even though I didn't feel like I saw their conclusion. Brave to end a book like that--beautifully minimalist but full of so much love as two fractured people try to move forward in the best way they can.

Peaceful, straightforward read about elderly no-nonsense Swede, Tova, coming to terms with grief and learning personal growth amid a tumult of coincidences and magical realism that bring people together.

Tova is very well-written, fleshed out character, and I wanted to see more of our gruff Scotsman, Ethan, with a heart of gold. Cameron came across as a little flat, and his penchant for not listening to people until they're done with their sentences conveniently added ~40 pages to the end of the book.

Also, I missed why Cameron didn't send a follow-up text to Avery after talking to Marco because it's not like Marco liked Cameron to begin with enough to do him a favor. The octopus duex ex machina could've been edited out of the book all-together and the ending would have still been the same.

This is a lovely book in a beautiful setting in Washington State, but the languid pacing and octopus shoe-horned in pulled me out of Tova, Ethan, and Cameron's story.

What a heartbreakingly beautiful book about loss, grief, love and hope. No one deserves this much trauma and devastation in one lifetime, but unfortunately Prince Harry continues to catch flack in spades for not living up to other people's ridiculous ideas of being a perfect royal. He made mistakes but he also very clearly states how he learned from them and grew as a person, which we're all allowed to do.

The intricate details of his early life and enlistment are a tough read, but they're threaded with so may beautiful moments with his family. The non-linear approach felt organic--an interaction led to a feeling which led to a memory. This book felt like he was understanding and diffusing trauma triggers with every page.

I really don't understand the hate over Prince Harry and Meghan Sussex, but I also like to think I'm not a vindictive, racist, classcist, asshat who doesn't have anything better to do than agonize over worthless tabloids. This is genuinely a well-written, evocative book that gives an inside look at a royals' lives but more importantly encourages agency, growth and change. I highly recommend the audiobook to truly hear Prince Harry's story in his own words.

Nope. I have actually never read something so stomach-churning until now. At least I can read Reading Lolita in Tehran by Azar Nafisi with a little more context. DNF.

What a wild ride. Inanity after insanity after twist and turn--Undine is insatiable chaotic good to a fault and watching her wreak havoc in 1910s New York Society was incredibly fun.

Wharton was completely ahead of her time, as she talks very frankly about divorce and terribly rigid societal expectations people wished they could run from. (e.g., Wharton throws out the term divorce-colony and it's Sioux Falls, Dakota; a divorce colony to encourage women to move West in exchange for a divorce.)

Undine's world is so vibrant and ever changing as she ascends the Society ladder a lá Rebecca Sharp. She looks ruin in the face many times and somehow keeps carving a path forward. The incredibly detailed world-building made this one such a page turner.

Watching Undine go head to head with Elmer Moffatt at different points in the story was thrilling. At times I underestimated Undine, Moffatt, or both. The rest of the poor souls around them are just collateral damage in their wake.

This story is about what we think will makes us happy, the boxes we put ourselves, and a cautionary tale of what happens when we look for external answers for internal problems. Great read.

I loved this 19th century takedown of a patriarchal Christian minister in four glorious parts.

Equality is not equity. Men don't get to exploitatively reap the benefits of their "helpmeets" without loudly hearing about it, not even then. In a time when women had already served in the Civil War as nurses and spies, they were still fighting for the vote. Women still couldn't hold property, will property to others, recieve military pensions, or be paid equal wages (still a problem!). Divorced and widowed women could easily become destitute.

Until reading these lectures, I had no idea women could be a leading part of the Christian church in equal partnership with men, be deacons, highly regarded pattonesses and the like until the Middle Ages, when men pulled rank and stripped away such niceties.

Devereux also comes with receipts; Bible versus (women were an actual improvement on men, could hold property, sow their own gotdang fields, and reap the benefits), quotes from university professors (female students were just as attentive and sharp as male students), court cases (divorce should be granted as easily as men, especially in the face of abuse), prison stories (matrons clearly prevent SA and other abuses while better managing more female prison populations than men manage male prison populations), and public works (keeping cities clean and well-managed) to name a few.

She also quotes the minister, Dr. Morgan Dix, and methodically dissects his arguments for women to stay home basically barefoot and pregnant subservient to their husband's.

Decades before Friedan's The Feminine Mistque, Devereux delivers arguments that won't see resolution for decades more. Sometimes she gets too enraptured with metaphors--I could've done without women being compared to cows being led to slaughter. She also totes the traditional gender roles of the day.

Overall, these lecture are an empowering read for any proponent of equality and equity for all.

The Island of Missing Trees is as much heartwarming as it is heartrending. The story is storm of generational trauma affecting everyone as it tears through everyone's lives <spoiler> alongside the aftermath of the Turkish Invasion of Cyprus and deep mistrust festering between Turkish and Greek Cypriots. </spoiler>

Kostas and Ada are trying to move forward after a devastating loss they each handle in their own way. Their emotional turmoil almost causes them to pass each other like two ships in the night; one turns inward and the other lashes out. Kostas has seen the damage caused by families trying to impose their will on their children, so he chooses a different path, but through a misguided promise of refusing to talk about the past he's only poisoning the present.

Ada's unresolved emotions suddenly manifests as <spoiler> a panic attack in the in the middle of class. </spoiler> Everyone is stunned. Ada is embarrassed and ashamed. Kostas is confused and disheartened. Kostas's quiet sadness can't calm Ada's hurt and fiery reactiveness.

Aunt Meryem, as well as the Fig Tree, become unexpected bridges between the Old World and New World but they also become a salve. Aunt Meryem doesn't have all the answers, but her unconventional beliefs in djinns and evil spirits make both Ada and Kostas realize they can't just ignore their problems or each other.

I loved this book although it was a heavy read. Change is hard and incremental. Older generations like Aunt Meryem can't forgive and forget, but younger generations like Ada can start the work of understanding the past to heal the present and nurture the future.

The Goldfinch is an incredibly immersive book about love, friendship, loss,class mobility and purpose interwoven with art history.

Theo is blindsided in New York City by something horrific and spirals. Most of the people around him are not stable or reliable except for antiques dealer, Hobie. Their surrogate father-son relationship is written so sweetly and convincingly that I wanted more Hobie on every page.

Then, Pippa is introduced and Theo's love for her is his constant shadow throughout the rest of the book as much as his mother and The Goldfinch painting itself.

Overall, I loved this book for it's immersiveness and mostly well-written characters, but the typos and grammatical errors toward the end wore on me.

Pippa got her ending "off screen", and Theo's final realization about her was muted and over too soon. I wish their issues would've been hashed out over a phone conversation at least.

I also felt like Boris never got to the point with any of his stories in under a page; that final scene in the Amsterdam hotel between Theo and Boris just felt like obfuscation for page count. I could only handle so many drug-induced, three/four-page fever dreams in one book.

Theo's voice in the final pages also inexplicably dissolved into the author's philosophical voice waxing poetic about life and art--it was distracting, anticlimactic and should've never happened.

Still, this book is a great read.