2.5 stars
I'm honestly surprised I stuck this one out. Molly read like an Amelia Bedelia walking stereotype of an autistic woman. When are we going to stop calling women quirky, off-beat, and unforgettable (all from reviews on the cover) and start naming the neurodiversity? It reinforces the belief that autism is something limited to men and children, and perpetuates ableist beliefs about how autistic women present. We have an entire missed generation of women either misdiagnosed or completely undiagnosed, walking around being labeled as the weirdo and maybe labeling it for what it is would help towards more understanding.
That said, the story kept me going. I appreciated how there were those around Molly who truly came to understand her by the end. It was fairly predictable, but had a couple of twists. As a librarian, I understand why it has a wide readership and has continued as a series. Just not one I'll be continuing.
This is a MUST read or listen. I just finished the audiobook and am reading it in print, too — it is that good and important. Full review to come!
3.5 stars. I wanted to love this more than I did, but it was still very well done. For some readers, there will be many unexpected twists. The world building over the real world was complex and believable. There were some lines that were my favorites in 2019. But overall, something just fell flat for me.
Thank you to NetGalley for an eARC of this book in exchange for an honest review.
Harriet Flores recently moved to Chicago with her family. It's still the summer, so she doesn't have an easy way to connect with new people. Even worse, her old friends from summer camp aren't responding to her letters. Harriet's parents are both settling in at new jobs, working lots of hours, and she's left feeling very lonely.
Over the course of the book, Harriet builds a relationship with Mrs. Pearl, her downstairs neighbor. They connect over books, writing, but also over living with chronic illness – it turns out that Harriet has MS, while Mrs. Pearl's son had polio back in the 1950s.
I loved how bits of information about Harriet were revealed slowly. At first, she seems to just be a sullen teenager with a tendency to tell lies. But as more of her experiences come to light, you can see that Harriet is desperate for some genuine connection, especially someone she can relate to about her illness. There are some great literary references, but apart from maybe recognizing titles, I'm not sure many students would make the connections. I loved the artwork – it was comforting and added a lightness to a story that otherwise could be depressing. Overall, this is a strong title that I would recommend.
Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for a digital ARC in exchange for an honest review.
Hannah Gold starts as a typical unreliable narrator. She is institutionalized for reasons that are revealed in time, but one thing is clear from the beginning – Hannah is considered “a danger to herself and others.” She is kept isolated, not even leaving her room to use the bathroom. And then Hannah is assigned a roommate, Lucy, and she is determined to form a friendship that will prove to the doctors that she isn't mentally ill. Hannah believes that whatever event lead her to the institution was an accident and a misunderstanding, and she should be released.
I wanted to love this book, but it just didn't do it for me. I felt like pieces of Hannah's psychosis were revealed in the writing, but it was done in a way that made me think, “was that intentional or is the writing just repetitive?” I felt that the book didn't reach it's potential as an unreliable narrator story, nor did it take a deep enough look at a patient and her family coming to terms with her diagnosis. That said, this book will certainly have readers that love it, and I wouldn't hesitate to recommend it to students.
I think this book will appeal to many readers, but to me personally, it fell flat. I appreciated the diverse representation throughout the book, especially in how it didn't feel at all forced or unnatural. I think this will especially appeal to readers who want a fantasy or science fiction book, but do not want to commit to a series.
Yes, it's a bit preachy. No, the plot and dialogue aren't groundbreaking. But the messages are so important, and Jilly is such a genuine character to tackle them with. I really appreciated how Gino embraced the discomfort and messy reality of confronting one's privilege. Jilly made so many mistakes, but she owned them and learned from them. Even after apologizing and resolving conflicts, she is still left feeling “icky,” an all too real and sometimes newly familiar feeling to tweens and teens. This title will do especially well with young middle schoolers.