Matt

 I am a huge fan of R.F. Kuang's previous works (The Poppy War trilogy and Babel).  She is absolutely one of my current favorite authors and she is the first author I've encountered in a long time whose books I will buy as soon as they come out.  In her four previous books she showed an incredible ability to write compelling fantasy stories with strong real-world analogues and complex characters.  These four books had the hallmarks of excellent fantasy storytelling and showed that Kuang herself had a remarkable command of the English language.  These books were incredibly enjoyable to read despite (or in some cases because of) their dark subject matter.  Kuang just has a knack for tackling some very difficult topics with her work and making very accessible narratives out of them.  And that's exactly what she tries to do (and touches on) in Yellowface, her first step outside of the fantasy genre.    I bring all of this up before talking about Yellowface itself because I feel like Kuang's background is quite important to the book.  Yellowface follows Juniper Hayward, a struggling white author who witnesses the accidental death of her college friend and writing superstar Athena Liu.  Juniper takes a book that Athena had just finished, rewrites it and publishes it under her own name.  The rest of the book follows Juniper as she deals with the guilt and consequences of her plagiarism.  It also touches on some very sensitive topics, notably sexism and racism within the publishing industry and what it means to be a writer in the age of social media.  These are tough issues but Kuang handles them quite well as she always does.  The central narrative is quite strong and the two main characters of Juniper and Athena are very nicely explored.  I am a sucker for a book that features a dead character so prominently that they are present as much as most of the alive characters and Yellowface is very much that.    Yellowface also serves as a sort of meta-commentary on Kuang herself and her career.  There are a number of obvious comparisons between Athena and Kuang that can be made, from their educational background to their writing topics to their reputations as writing prodigies at young ages and so on.  Parts of this book feel like Kuang is struggling with her own success and place within the literary world.  I applaud her for taking that internal struggle and putting that on the page.  Because the book is far from completely laudatory towards Athena.  There were times while reading some of the criticism of Athena that I felt bad for loving Kuang's previous works as much as I did.  It takes some serious guts to essentially put yourself in a novel and make that version of yourself evidently flawed.  I don't always think that this aspect of the book is handled in the most subtle of ways but perhaps that is the point.     Yellowface is a book that forces you to think.  It is a book that wants you to be uncomfortable.  It is a book that demands you to look within yourself as a consumer who participates in this industry.  Because of that I can't say that this is the book of Kuang's that I enjoyed reading the most (it's not supposed to be), but after some reflection I do think it's her most interesting and important.  I will go back to her previous books more, but this is the one that will stick with me the most, and I think that's what Kuang was going for when she decided to tackle this project.     I'm glad Kuang wrote this book.  It feels like she needed to write it just for her own sake.  She really is an incredible talent and I can't wait to see what she does next. 

Some of my favorite books ever are the ones I know the least about heading into them.  With most media I like to know what I'm getting into, but recently I've had a lot of fun with books where I find out about them just from a social media post or a friend telling me they're great with no follow-up.  I found out about Project Hail Mary from the former as one day I was browsing Reddit and saw a post with the title ‘Project Hail Mary took me to the stars'.  Knowing nothing about the book besides the fact that someone said it took them to the stars, I decided to try it out.  Project Hail Mary continues the trend of me having great experiences with books I know almost nothing about prior to reading the first page.    Project Hail Mary is in many ways your classic space-exploration novel.  It focuses on one character (Dr. Grace) who wakes up and is trapped on a space shuttle with amnesia.  As with most modern sci-fi, there's a lot of snark (which I have heard is characteristic of Weir's writing).  The areas where the novel is stereotypical are good for what they are, but there are two areas where the novel really separates itself.    The first is in how the amnesia is dealt with.  As the novel goes on, Dr. Grace continues to recover pieces of his memory.  The pieces of memory he recovers also serves as exposition to the reader.  This feels a bit forced at times but I am overall a fan of it as it nicely breaks up the book into two separate ‘timelines' in ‘past' and ‘present', allowing neither section to get too monotonous.  Where this device works extremely well is near the end of the book.  Throughout Project Hail Mary, Dr. Grace has assumed that he volunteered to go on a suicide mission to save Earth.  He has thought of himself as a hero for this choice and this ego boost has carried him through some of the more difficult events that occur during his journey.  But in one of the last flashback/'past' sections, we (both the reader and Dr. Grace himself) find out that he was forced onto the mission against his will and that he was given medicine that would purposefully induce memory loss in order to ensure his cooperation on the ship.  It's a gut punch that functions well as both an emotional beat as well as explanation for why he had amnesia in the first place.  I do wish there was a bit more emotional payoff to the reveal that he was a coward instead of a hero but I can overlook that considering how great the moment itself is.   The second area the novel really stands out is in the main non-Dr. Grace character in the ‘present' sections of the novel.  At first, Dr. Grace is alone in space but around one-fifth of the way through the book his ship encounters another one.  This ship turns out to be inhabited by an alien that Dr. Grace names Rocky.  I cannot put into words how much I love Rocky.  Even though Dr. Grace describes him in ways that make him sound like a monster (he's a five-legged pentagonal spider covered in a jagged metal exoskeleton) Rocky is an absolute delight to read.  The friendship that develops between Dr. Grace and Rocky, two creatures who are just trying to save their species, is heartwarming and far and away the best part of the book.  I was so worried that Rocky was evil the entire time and while that may have made the book more dramatic, I like Weir's decision to keep the relationship as a wholly positive thing for both of them.  This book made me fall in love with a creepy space spider and I couldn't be happier for it.    Project Hail Mary does so many other different things greatly as well.  The characters we meet in Dr. Grace's flashback sequences are all reasonably well-developed, seeing Dr. Grace finagle his way out of seemingly impossible situations is really fun and the science itself is really solid.  Weir covers all his bases to make this novel a well-rounded piece of literature    After finishing the book I decided to check out the Reddit post that inspired me to read it.  As expected, I saw a lot of praise but I also saw a decent amount of comments disagreeing with the original poster.  A lot of the criticism focused on the abundance of sassy jabs between the characters in the flashback sequences, the amount of suspension of disbelief required throughout and the science being kind of hand-wavy at certain point.  After reading that criticism I can see why someone would have a problem with these points... but I don't care.  Project Hail Mary isn't perfect, but it made me have so much fun that I could easily overlook its flaws and just let myself enjoy the ride.  That is a feeling I crave in any sci-fi or fantasy book and it's why I continuously go back to these genres.  Project Hail Mary took me to the stars too, and I'm not sure I want to come back down.   

This is the third and final book in Naomi Novik's Scholomance trilogy, which means I'll be using this review to talk not only about The Golden Enclaves, but the series as a whole.  Let's start with the former.    I was not the biggest fan of The Last Graduate mostly because I felt it didn't expand on A Deadly Education enough.  I think Novik absolutely fixed this issue in The Golden Enclaves.  While the first two books in this trilogy took place entirely within one location, The Golden Enclaves takes its characters all around the world, allowing for a greater diversity in environments that allows the book to really breathe.  The increase in physical settings leads to an increase in stakes and information as well.  In some ways, The Golden Enclaves feels both like the second and third book in this trilogy.  That's a lot to pack into a book that's just over 400 pages, but I think Novik does a fantastic job with it.  This is a book that could feel rushed but it doesn't.  It moves from beat to beat really nicely and she makes sure to allow her characters to process each event before moving onto the next one.  The characters in this book are once again fantastic.  I'll get into some of them in a bit but real quickly I want to shout out Ophelia Lake, a truly wonderful antagonist who makes her presence felt despite little time actually being present in the story.  All in all, The Golden Enclaves serves as a very strong end to a pretty strong series.    I have mixed emotions when looking back on the trilogy as a whole.  Let's start with the good.  A Deadly Education is absolutely fantastic and will likely remain one of my favorite books I read this year.  I think it's pretty much perfect.  The Golden Enclaves is another very good book.  The series as a whole features one of the most interesting magic systems in the entire fantasy genre, a great setpiece in The Scholomance itself along with some truly spectacular characters.  Novik does a fantastic job of making her two main protagonists (El and Orion) consistently engaging throughout.  I never quite knew where their characters would end up and I just wanted to keep following them across every page.  There's a lot to like here and I certainly can't begrudge anyone who ranks this series among the best they've ever read.  But something holds it back from reaching that status for me.  It may be the fact that I feel like The Last Graduate does not do enough in terms of expanding the world, making The Golden Enclaves need to do some catch-up work.  That's the only real flaw I can definitively put into words here.  Other than that I just... didn't love the series the way I wanted to.  I still really liked it and will recommend it to others, it's just not the masterpiece I was hoping for.  The covers still kick major ass though.  No complaints about them. 

 I once saw a post on Tumblr that said something along the lines of ‘don't judge a book by its cover is a great saying that applies to all aspects in life except for books'.  I tend to agree with this statement.  When I browse through my local Barnes and Noble there are times where I will buy a book or series simply because its cover is so interesting.  In recent times this has led me to some fantastic reading experiences, as it caused me to get N.K. Jemisin's ‘Broken Earth' trilogy last year as well as this one, the first book in Naomi Novik's ‘The Scholomance' trilogy.    I'm not exaggerating when I say that A Deadly Education is one of my favorite books ever on a pure physical sense.  Its cover art and jacket are absolutely fantastic and I couldn't stop admiring them even while I was reading it.  Few books have given me as much joy just by holding them as this one.  I have never really gotten into audiobooks or e-books and it's books like A Deadly Education that makes me very happy about my loyalty to physical books.  I feel like I'd enjoy the book a decent amount less if it didn't feel so good to hold and look at.  Even if the book itself was awful I'd probably give it a decent rating just for the physical aspects of it.    Fortunately, A Deadly Education has a lot going for it even outside of its aesthetics.  To put it simply, this is a damn good fantasy book written by someone who knows how to tell a compelling story.  The book is written from the point of view of Galadriel (El for short) Higgins, a junior at The Scholomance, a school for wizards and witches.  While this may sound like a Harry Potter rip-off, it's very much not.  The title of the book very much sets the tone for what type of setting The Scholomance is.  This is a place where mere survival is not something that is just given and you have to work for any advantage you may get to aid you in this simple task.  The setting alone makes A Deadly Education a very unique fantasy book.  It's far more adult than something like Harry Potter (I'm not saying that Harry Potter never gets adult, but the depictions of violence here very often veer into something out of a horror novel), but its protagonist and characters mean that it never becomes a true grimdark novel.  The result is a really interesting mix that Novik makes work to an incredible degree.  It's not a book that gives you everything right off the bat, El is a junior who has always been magical and thus does not need everything explained to her, thereby giving the reader less exposition.  I will say that it took me around 50 or so pages to really start enjoying the book but after that I was totally hooked.  This is a book that is the definition of a page-turner as every scene is gripping in some way.  It's just a damn good time.    The book wouldn't be nearly as fun without Novik's wonderful collection of characters, who you very much want to succeed and overcome the horrors of their setting.  The one thing I had heard about A Deadly Education before I read it was that its heroine was great and those ratings were correct.  El is the perfect protagonist for what Novik is trying to accomplish here.  She is in many ways a teenager but her view on the world is more jaded as a result of the environment she's grown up in.  What's amazing about El is that she doesn't feel like she's edgy for the sake of being edgy.  El feels like a human being that this world would naturally produce.  Her narration is incredibly fun to read and some of the best moments of A Deadly Education come from her wit.  That's not to mention Orion Lake, a very fun take on the golden boy archetype that naturally exists in a school setting.  The book is almost as much about Orion as it is about El, and he provides a very fun deuteragonist to El's protagonist.  Really this book is full of really excellent characters and I loved learning about many of them throughout the book.    I'm so glad I judged A Deadly Education by its cover.  I eagerly look forward to reading its sequel.  Novik is quickly shaping up to be one of my favorite authors and I'm so happy she has so many more books that I can check out. 

  I am kind of at a loss at what to say about The Furrows.  I definitely like it and think Serpell is a daring, talented writer for pulling off what she did here, but I find myself struggling to put my emotions towards it into coherent sentences.     Let's start with a summary.  The Furrows starts off with a 12-year-old girl named Cassandra (Cee for short) on the day she sees her 7-year-old brother Wayne die.  She returns home and tells her parents what happened but her mother refuses to believe that Wayne is dead.  Based on that, you'd think that this is a straightforward tale about grief, but this is very much not that.  Through the rest of the first part we see Cee grow up and see Wayne in various people.  These appear to be grief-induced hallucinations until she meets a man named Wayne who bears a striking resemblance to her brother.  From here on out we see Cee and Wayne develop a relationship and find out that Wayne's past is murky and involves a kid who looked just like him and had his same name.  I can't possibly sum up the last part of the book in a way that does Serpell's writing justice.    As I said above, this is not a basic story of familial grief.  Instead, Serpell injects a lot of life into this tale, making it somewhat of a mystery novel as well as a romantic story.  She never loses sight of what is important as it always comes back to the day that Wayne died, but Serpell tells the story in such a way that it feels like an emotional ocean, with big waves of grief surrounding calm periods of levity.  This makes the book a really interesting read and I really like the choices Serpell made to continue to surprise the reader throughout.    I don't think I quite get everything that this book is trying to say but I do find myself interested in it all the same and that is something that I find very valuable in a novel.  Serpell is a genuine talent. 

 I am just completely infatuated by R.F. Kuang's writing at this point.  I really loved The Poppy War (this book's predecessor) as well as Babel (her standalone novel released earlier this year) so I had high expectations eading into this one.  Even then I was totally blown away by The Dragon Republic.    I've spoken before about how writing the second part of a trilogy can be tough because it lacks the excitement of a new beginning that the first part has while also missing the satisfaction of a conclusion that the third part has.  I've seen authors try to tackle this conundrum in a few ways but Kuang has done it in the simplest way possible: by writing an undeniably intriguing story.  The Dragon Republic expertly builds upon everything that was started in The Poppy War and expands it.     The characters here are excellent.  We have all of our old favorites in Rin, Kitay, the Cike etc while also adding the prominent figures behind each of Nikan's provinces.  The main one we are introduced to is Vaisra, leader of the Dragon province and Nezha's father.  He is just a blast to read here as this commanding, seductive figure.  Kuang deserves a lot of credit for writing the scenes between him and Rin with underlying sexual tension that feels so wrong and yet so desirable.  He's a big part of why this book is so good and I can't wait to see his role in the trilogy's conclusion.  I also want to shout out Nezha, who was introduced in the last book but is explored with much more complexity here.  He shines a lot in his role and elevates the book in a similar way to his dad.  If I were to say one reason why this book is so good it's these two.    I... honestly don't know what else to say at this point.  This isn't my favorite Kuang book but I do think it's her best that I've read up to now.  I'm sure she'll surpass herself with the conclusion to this trilogy. 

  I'm going to start off this review by saying that I experienced The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue as an audiobook, not a physical book.  I generally prefer physical books but I saw that I was able to get this audiobook for free and I had already heard a decent amount of it so I got it.  As such I won't review the writing as much as the general feel of the book and narration.    With all that out of the way this is excellent and my guess is that that's true no matter how you consume it.  Addie LaRue tells the story of (you guessed it) Addie LaRue, a French girl born in the late 1600s who makes a deal with a god that allows her to live forever but at the cost of having nobody remember who she is after she leaves their sight.  About 1/3 of the way through the book, she meets Henry Strauss, who is able to remember her for some reason.  Addie and Henry are truly wonderful protagonists who you feel so much for.  They are eminently rootable, especially against a figure like Luc (Addie's name for the god she made a deal with).  They are so flawed and at times they made me want to rip my hair out but they are ultimately good people.  Henry is one of the most relatable protagonists I've ever read and some of his narration (as written by Schwab) is undeniably poignant.  A lot of this book is deeply depressing, particularly when narrated by Addie, but it never quite stops feeling hopeful because Addie herself never gives up hope.  She has lived a life that sounds truly miserable but she somehow manages to put it together through sheer determination.  Luc is also a fantastic villain, in many ways a typical ‘god who has some human characteristics' but he is just so hatable in a way that doesn't quite make him repulsive, just compelling.  These three main characters are easily able to carry the 17 hours of audiobook.  That's no small feat and I have to say that in this way and many others Schwab executed his vision for this book pretty flawlessly.  This is an excellent book and I recommend everyone check it out. 

 This is a very short (a little over 100 pages) novella that functions as a capstone to N.K. Jemisin's ‘Inheritance' trilogy.  Jemisin is someone who specializes in grand themes and huge plots and I wasn't sure how that style would translate to a novella but I was pleasantly surprised here.  Jemisin's creativity once again shines here as she weaves a tale about Shill, a godling meant to replace Sieh from the trilogy proper.  As it turns out, Shill is not Sieh, and a decent amount of the book is spent with her internal conflict regarding that.  Ultimately, this is a story about choices and expectations and I think Jemisin does a really solid job exploring those themes in such a short space.  It's a really fun, quick read that I would recommend to anyone who liked the three books in the main ‘Inheritance' trilogy. 

 On paper, Major Labels is a book about how seven different genres of music (rock, R&B, country, punk, hip-hop, dance and pop) have evolved over the past 50 years.  In practice, it's a book about how music has an ability to define those who are fans of a particular type of it, how that tribalism plays a part in the way the art is created and what it means to criticize music as a whole.  It's also an incredible book about how seven different genres of music have evolved over the past 50 years.     I'm actually at a bit of a loss for words in terms of how to describe and review this book.  So much of its quality is self-evident.  Sanneh is a seasoned pro with an extensive background in music writing that he calls on frequently as he discusses various trends.  This could be an extremely boring book, but Sanneh fills his writing with an appropriate amount of vivaciousness, allowing his anecdotes and stories to really come to life.  I find that this book is at its best when it strays away from talking about music itself but rather the cultures and identities that music creates just by existing.  Sanneh himself seems to know this, as there isn't a ton of music theory discussion throughout.  What he does instead is focuses on the people surrounding the songs and albums that are ostensibly the centerpiece of the book.  It's a smart choice and makes the book not only informative, but remarkably enjoyable as well.     I learned a lot by reading this book but the main thing I'll take away from it is the joy in the writing.  Sanneh clearly has a passion for music and writing about it, and that love elevates this book from good to truly great.  Whether he's describing how heavy metal became commercialized or how Luther Vandross couldn't quite get a #1 hit or how puns were made based off of George Strait's name or talking about his own childhood punk experiences or extolling the virtues of dumber rap or celebrating the diversity that made disco special or questioning whether criticism as a whole is dying, Sanneh seems to have a gift for finding the right words to elicit a certain level of emotion.  I'm genuinely in awe of this book and think it's a great achievement. 

 Leigh Bardugo is easily my favorite author that I discovered in 2022.  Before last year, I wasn't familiar with her work, but I checked out the Shadow and Bone trilogy due to a friend's recommendation.  I eagerly devoured that and the other four books in the Grishaverse before checking out Ninth House, her first book not primarily targeted at a YA audience.  Ninth House absolutely blew me away as Bardugo proved herself capable of bringing her same writing chops to a more adult and horror-based book.  After finishing Ninth House, I was eagerly looking forward to reading its sequel Hell Bent.    I am pleased to say that Bardugo continues to reward my faith in her as Hell Bent is a really strong sequel.  Generally fantasy sequels build upon their predecessors by expanding the world and raising the stakes.  Hell Bent does both, but in an unusual way.  Ninth House and Hell Bent both primarily take place at Yale University, but Hell Bent (fittingly) doesn't expand geographically, rather metaphysically as many characters literally go to Hell.  I really like what Bardugo does with Hell in this book.  She makes it more of a concept than an actual place and keeps it so that the idea of it is almost more frightening than the place itself.  Of course it still is plenty scary and Bardugo really gets to have fun with the creatures she designs here.  One thing that really stands out about Hell Bent compared to its predecessor is the imagery Bardugo uses.  Making the reader feel present is a key part of making a horror or horror-adjacent novel work and Bardugo's descriptions of the fire and corpses and other terrifying concepts really transplant the reader right next to Alex as she's experiencing everything this book throws at her.    Speaking of Alex, one thing that I really prefer in my sequels is character development and once again Hell Bent provides that.  The quartet of ‘pilgrims' in Alex, Dawes, Turner and Tripp all get a ton of really great stuff here.  Alex was already great, but she cements herself as a top-tier fantasy protagonist here.  Dawes and Turner make strong leaps to become main characters in their own right.  But the biggest pleasant surprise of this book has to be Tripp.  In Ninth House, Tripp is a doofy trust-fund kid with minimal stuff to grab on to, but Bardugo makes him a genuinely sympathetic character here.  Darlington also works really well throughout the book as someone who is always present even if not necessarily in the physical sense.  Every character here is just so good and they make Hell Bent something truly special.    I normally don't start book series before they are finished as I don't want to enter another ASOIAF situation where I am excited for a book that never comes.  I broke that rule due to how much I like Bardugo's writing and I'm glad I did because it allowed me to experience Ninth House and Hell Bent sooner.  Unfortunately it means I have to wait however long for the conclusion of the Alex Stern trilogy to come out.  Needless to say, I eagerly look forward to it.  

We live in a golden age of niche hobbyists getting very famous thanks to the internet.  Before, people who were extraordinarily good at a thing the vast majority of people didn't know about would only be well-known within that circle.  Nowadays though all it takes is one popular YouTube channel or influencer catching wind of a weird hobby and these people are known to millions of viewers.  It is through these avenues that I first became aware of Alex Honnold, the best in the world at climbing massive mountains without any assistance.  I remember being in awe at what he did but never looked more into his story.  After seeing this book on the shelf of my local bookstore I had to pick it up based on my previous interest.  Part of the fun of reading (at least for me) is learning about experiences that I will never have personally, and few things are as out of my theoretical wheelhouse as climbing up a massive wall in Yosemite National Park.  I eagerly dove in, looking forward to finding out more about what it takes to do something so incredible.    To the book's credit, it absolutely does what I wanted it to do.  I now know a lot more about Alex Honnold, both as a climber and as a human being.  Throughout the book Synnott does something that I really like, which is looking deep into who the climbers are as people rather than strictly what they do on the rock.  As a veteran climber himself, Synnott understands what makes climbers like Honnold tick and does his absolute best to explain why they do the things they do.  The book is at its best when Synnott tries to answer these questions.  He's a pretty perfect author for this book as he has the necessary hands-on experience doing things like what Honnold did as well as the necessary writing experience to explain it in a way that makes sense to a non-climber.     I honestly think this book is about as good as it can be, but I can't say that I totally love it.  I was racking my brain for a while to figure out why until it hit me: climbing is just not an easy thing to write about.  There's a reason that so many major climbs are filmed and why every prominent climber seems to have a film crew around them: it's really hard to convey what happens on the side of a mountain into words.  Synnott doesn't go too deep on the technical jargon, but there were points where I had a tough time visualizing exactly what he was talking about despite his best efforts for that reason.  The moves these climbers pull off as well as the features on the rock that they maneuver around are just so hard to picture if you haven't seen them for yourself.  That's why the book is better when it doesn't talk too much about the climbing itself, rather the people doing the climbing.     I'm glad I read this book.  When it's good it's really good and there's a lot to like about it.  I imagine that those who are deeper into climbing would get quite a bit more out of it.  But for me personally, it just stands as quite good, rather than amazing. 

  After not being a huge fan of Wolf Hall I ended up being very pleasantly surprised by its sequel Bring Up The Bodies.  As a result of how much I liked Bring Up The Bodies I went into The Mirror And The Light with fairly high expectations.  Unfortunately, these expectations were not met, and I feel that this book is a lot more like Wolf Hall than its sequel.    That's not necessarily the worst thing.  Despite my personal apathy towards Wolf Hall from an emotional standpoint, I will admit that it's very well-written and is clearly the result of a lot of research into the time period.  The same good qualities are firmly present in The Mirror And The Light.  Mantel puts in just enough levity to make the book not drag (too much) and it's clear that she knows her stuff.     One thing I will give this book in comparison to Wolf Hall is its character work.  Perhaps it's because we've now spent three books with these characters, but I feel like Mantel is just better at making her characters ones that a reader can get attached to here compared to Wolf Hall.  Thomas Cromwell remains an interesting if unsympathetic protagonist and King Henry is a fascinating central figure as well.    But that's where my praises end because this book does drag a decent amount and it does so without making me care about it.  The fact that I feel so apathetic towards a 750-page book that I just finished is a bad thing.  I don't think The Mirror And The Light is an awful book or even a bad one.  But it is just... lacking something that I know Mantel could provide. 

  This is a book I've been excited to read for a bit now.  I heard about it a couple of years ago but didn't decide to give it a try until I read Babel, Kuang's most recent book.  I think Babel is an absolute masterpiece.  Not only did I think it was a masterpiece, it felt like a very intentional masterpiece created by someone who is a master of her craft.  Kuang made so many smart writing decisions throughout Babel that I felt I had to check out her other books to see if she was always this good.  As it turns it, she hasn't always been quite that good, but she's always been incredibly talented.  The Poppy War is seriously excellent.    I love pretty much everything about this book so I'm just going to go ahead and lavish a whole lot of praise before I get into the very small critiques that I have.  Kuang is a master at subtle worldbuilding.  While there are many fantastical elements in her stories, she always keeps her settings quite grounded in reality.  It's so easy to imagine yourself in one of her worlds sitting on one of her characters' shoulders.  This ease allows the reader to be immediately invested in her stories and I find that this is an underrated aspect of good fantasy.  You can have the most elaborate world with maps that rival an actual atlas, but if I can't imagine what it's like to be there, the corresponding story will inevitably fall flat.  Kuang does not make any of these mistakes.  She feeds the reader a little bit of info at a time, enough to make the reader feel like they're learning something, but never too much as to make them feel overwhelmed.  This attribute also contributes to the fact that her books are an absolute blast to read.  For me, reading good fantasy feels like riding a roller-coaster: yes the author has total control of the story, but the ride they take me on is so exhilarating that I feel unbounded within their creation.  Kuang delivers that feeling so many times throughout this book and each time it's more fun than the last.     I also want to give Kuang credit for how she balances the fun aspects of the book with the very dark realities of her world.  The Poppy War takes place in a country called Nikan, which is clearly based on World War II China.  Nikan gets invaded by a country called Mugen, the Japan to Nikan's China.  Kuang does not pull any punches when describing the wartime atrocities Mugen commits, some of which seem to be word-for-word descriptions about the Rape of Nanking.  These are some of the most disturbing passages I've ever read, but they are absolutely necessary to understand the motivations of The Poppy War's protagonist Rin as she allows herself to become more vengeful by the page.  Rin is a wonderful character who changes considerably throughout the book but never in a way that feels forced.  We see what she sees and feel what she feels so that by the time the book ends, we understand her decisions even if we don't agree with them.  Once again I will give props to Kuang for making her main character in her debut novel one that is conflicting.  There were many times throughout the book that I had to remind myself that this is Kuang's first novel and that she wrote it in her early 20s.  She clearly has some excellent innate writing instincts.    With all that said, there are points in the novel where Kuang's inexperience shows.  Here I'm mostly referring to her handling of Altan.  For me at least, Altan's character shift between his time at Sinegard and his time as leader of the Cike feels very awkward.  Altan post-Sinegard is great and I don't think Kuang does anything wrong with his progression from that point on, but he straight up does not feel like the same person he was before then.  This would be excusable except for the fact that it's mentioned that he's always been like this.  The whole thing just feels so jarring and it really stands out when put against Rin's very smooth character transformation.  This is a pretty small nitpick but with a book this good all critiques are nitpicky.    I love this book dearly and can't wait to check out its sequel. 

  Fantasy is my favorite genre, but I will admit that I have a blind spot to what that genre was like post-Tolkien pre-Jordan.  It seems like for most fantasy readers you can go straight from LOTR to WoT and you won't miss anything important.  For my entire life up to this point I was one of those readers, but after seeing a nice omnibus version of Mercedes Lackey's ‘The Last Herald-Mage' trilogy on the shelf of my local Barnes and Noble I decided to change that.    That was overall a good decision because this book is real good.  It's just really nicely written fantasy full of lush descriptions of fantastical places, a cool magic system and some major conflicts.  In many ways it ticks off every box that you'd expect a fantasy novel to check off but when the quality is this good it's hard to care.  Stereotypical fantasy can still be good if it's well-written and Lackey is someone who just gets how to write a story.    In many ways this book is stereotypical, but the way it isn't is what truly elevates it.  It's good that I'm reading this book in June because it is literally  gay.  Further research tells me that this is the first fantasy book ever published with a gay protagonist.  Lackey's introduction at the beginning of the omnibus says that many people have written to her about how this book and trilogy as a whole helped them come to terms with their own sexualities and I'm really happy that this book has had such a positive impact and I can totally see why.  Lackey does a wonderful job writing Vanyel's homosexuality.  She makes it very clear that the romance between Vanyel and Tylandel is totally natural and that the love they feel for one another is totally legitimate.  A message like that is important even today and I can't imagine being a closeted teenager in the 80's reading this.  Lackey downplays her own greatness in the introduction but I still think she deserves a lot of credit.    All in all this is a really strong start to what is sure to be a great trilogy. 

  There is really nothing like reading “The Expanse”.  Fantasy has always been my favorite genre in part because good fantasy makes you feel like you're on a wonderful theme-park ride full of exhilarating moments that allow you to truly immerse yourself in the experience.  Prior to reading “The Expanse” series I had never found a sci-fi book that made me feel the same way, but this series is just so much fun.  The characters are enjoyable and complex.  The setting is well-designed and immersive.  And its big setpieces and moments are done just so well.  Last year I eagerly devoured the first three books in the series and I was very excited to read the fourth in anticipation of what would come next after Abaddon's Gate left off with a lot of interesting possibilities.  I am pleased to say that Cibola Burn manages to not only meet the expectations set by its predecessors, but exceed them.    Cibola Burn is like its predecessors in many ways.  It has a few holdovers from the previous books in Holden and his crew while introducing new characters that are relevant to the situation they find themselves in.  Things go really bad for a while before Holden is able to somehow save the day.  Along the way there is a ton of action, some really strong moments, some badass dialogue and a few moral questions are asked of the reader.  All of this is pretty simple but this series just makes these tropes WORK.  Is some of Holden's plot armor/competence/sheer luck bullshit? Absolutely, but I don't care because I want him and the crew of the Rocinante to succeed time and time again.  The book is also just super well-written.  It is a big book (almost 600 pages) and yet it paces itself in a way that allows tons of things to happen while also having these things mean something.  Some authors fall into the trap of having constant action without any moments where the story just breathes, but the authors behind “The Expanse” know how to make each moment count.  It's a genuine skill and I think it's a major reason why these books succeed the way they do.    While much of Cibola Burn's quality can be talked about in conjunction with its predecessors, it also has a number of strong attributes on its own.  The setting of New Terra is truly fantastic and feels like a new fantasy world.  It's the best ‘ground' setting in “The Expanse”.  It also features a number of strong characters that didn't exist in the first three books, namely Elvi and Murtry.  The reintroduction of Havelock was also a nice surprise.  I hope he kind of takes Miller's place now that Miller seems to be totally out of the picture.   All in all, Cibola Burn is a very worthy entry into “The Expanse” series.  Up next is Nemesis Games.  When I first started “The Expanse”, a common thing I heard was that the series didn't get really good until 4-5 books in.  Given how much I've liked the first four books, I'm sure Nemesis Games will blow my mind. 

 I wanted to love this book so much.  I am a huge fan of Atlanta rap music and even wrote a term paper on it in high school. When I first heard about it from Stereogum's ‘The Number Ones' column I immediately ordered it because it sounded perfect for me.  I was eager to learn even more about the history of Atlanta rap music.     This book is not about the history of Atlanta rap.  It is instead a loosely connected group of stories focusing on various figures important to the industry of Atlanta rap in the current era, mostly those involved with the Quality Control label.  It describes these figures as they first get involved with rap and follows them to where they are today.  Throughout we learn about the general culture of Atlanta, from its politics to its crime.  One thing I want to give Coscarelli credit for here is his characterization of these people.  Coscarelli clearly loves the people he is talking about and makes them seem both like mythological figures as well as human beings just struggling to make it through the day.  This is a well-researched book that does go deep into these peoples' lives and personalities.  If you want to find out just what Lil Baby is like, this book will tell you all you need to know about him.  Another thing I want to credit Coscarelli for is how he doesn't only look at the success stories.  Yes we spend a lot of time with Lil Baby and Migos, two massively successful artists, but we also spend time with Lil Reek, who wasn't able to make the most out of his time in the spotlight as well as Marlo, who ultimately died because of the gangbanging that is so vividly described throughout this book.  It is nothing if not comprehensive, and I appreciate Coscarelli for showing just what Atlanta is, warts and all.    With that said, this book has a serious structural problem.  Something about Rap Capital feels poorly edited.  It just... doesn't have a flow.  While I understand the difficulties that come with trying to describe a massive industry and its connection to the city that birthed it in less than 400 pages, the fact remains that this book has a problem with pacing and cohesion.  I feel like the book would be better served if it took all the Lil Baby segments and put them in one section back-to-back and did the same thing with the other figures in the story.  Jumping from one person to the other in a somewhat chronological way just makes this book feel awkward and I can't get over that.  There is an amazing book within these 370 pages, but the order of everything means that this version is not that amazing book.    I think if I came into this book with lower expectations I would have enjoyed it more.  As it stands, its structural issues prevent it from reaching the top quality that I feel it could achieve.  It's a good book that I wanted to be great. 

 At the end of my review for Wolf Hall, I said that I would read its sequels but I wasn't excited for them.  I am so glad I pushed through despite not liking the first book, as I think Bring Up The Bodies maintains the strong qualities of its predecessor while also improving on its weak points.    Like Wolf Hall, Bring Up The Bodies thrives in its attention to detail and quality of writing, but it tightens up the pacing as it focuses on a much shorter time period.  Wolf Hall takes place over the course of over 30 years while its sequel doesn't even cover one.  I find that this allows the book to breathe a lot more and makes each event matter.  Bring Up The Bodies also has a cleaner narrative that is easier to follow and is more interesting than its predecessor.  Focusing on the downfall of Anne Boleyn through Thomas Cromwell's eyes is a genuine treat as we see exactly what mistakes she makes (and doesn't make) in order to lose favor with Henry.  As all good sequels do, Bring Up The Bodies expands on its returning characters and these three in particular benefit greatly from having another book to explore their personalities.     After reading Bring Up The Bodies, my opinion of its predecessor has gone down.  Knowing that Mantel had this within her makes me wish that Wolf Hall was tighter in a similar way.  As it stands, Bring Up The Bodies is one of my new all-time favorite historical novels, and I can now say I eagerly look forward to reading the conclusion of this trilogy. 

  For the first half of Britt-Marie Was Here I was very much not impressed.  It felt like a weird story about a weird person in weird situations with minimal redeeming value.  Despite it being only 300 pages long I almost gave up on it.  After reading the second half of it I'm glad I didn't give up on it, although it is quite flawed.    Part of my issue with Britt-MarieWas Here is that it just feels awkwardly written.  I'm not sure if this is because of the translation (the book was originally written in Swedish) or not but the writing as a whole just feels clunky and weird and I can't tell if it's a purposeful stylistic choice or not.  I am tempted to give the benefit of the doubt to Backman and his translator as this is inherently a weird book and it's possible that the strangeness of the writing is supposed to add to the sense of abnormality present in the story.  Whatever the reason for it, I just don't like the style of the writing and it majorly detracts from my enjoyment of this book.    Another one of my issues with the book is Britt-Marie herself, especially in the first half of the book.  It feels like she's an alien who is just learning social norms.  Given that the book really needs you to relate to Britt-Marie in order for the emotional beats of the story to land, this is a major problem.  I simply cannot relate to a person who I just can't imagine existing.    With all of that said this book is far from irredeemable.  There are some emotional beats that in fact land hard and some of them are courtesy of Britt-Marie herself.  This is a book about identity and watching her struggle to find hers is a legitimately touching story at various points.  The supporting characters around her are also fantastic, particularly the kids.  They give the book the heart that it desperately requires.    All in all while Britt-Marie Was Here is far from the best book I've ever read, there are parts of it that will stick with me for a very long time.