Review: Beneath the Sugar Sky (Wayward Children #3)

4 stars. So, so delighted to return to Seanan McGuire’s imagination for a vivid journey into the hearts and minds and worlds of her wayward children. We return to the “present” timeline here - after the last book’s prequel - to watch our trusty lost souls throw the space-time continuum out the window and right some wrongs.

As I noted in my reviews of the first two books in the series, Every Heart a Doorway and Down Among the Sticks and Bones, I am so truly inspired by the sense of possibility in McGuire’s writing. I love fantasy and read it often, but I rarely - maybe not since Harry Potter - feel so immersed and … hopeful.

As always, McGuire includes very crucial, very on-the-nose, VERY IMPORTANT, RELEVANT messaging here - about acceptance, tolerance and the need to be kind to one another, among other things. I had the same reaction as I did to the second: okay, that’s a little preachy; a little loud. But again I kicked myself for assuming myself beyond the need for such a message. I need reminders too.

We do find out a little bit more about the worlds and the doorways. We get to visit several in this book and it made me so happy. I want a map, or a catalog, I want to know EVERYTHING. And I want to know where I would fit - what my world would look like. Perfectly suited? True acceptance? Fantasy, indeed. MORE, PLEASE!

Beneath the Sugar Sky on: Amazon | Goodreads

Review: Give Me Your Hand

4.5 stars. Wowza. Even just the title - Give Me Your Hand - can mean so many things. It can mean “let me help you” or “I support you” or “trust me” … but it’s a demand, not a request, and if you trust the wrong person, you’re doomed. And it’s especially compelling considering the astounding amount of gender discrimination by women among women, which shouldn’t still be news, but yes, women are capable of severe targeted destruction in competitive environments. How can we trust our friends, when they are often our enemies?

Megan Abbott attempts to unpack this and more in her latest nasty masterpiece. Our protagonist, Dr. Kit Owens, is shocked when her ex-best friend, Diane, appears in her prestigious research lab. Working with her - alongside her - is unthinkable, considering Kit knows Diane’s secret, a secret that begins to resurface with shocking and violent consequences. Can they put the past behind them? Move forward for the sake of science? Ambition collides with fear and regret as the two women fight, almost literally, to the death.

I would like to point out that every woman in this story is layered and interesting. Not a single one of them is formulaic or bland, and they exist to take action with agency. I’m used to seeing female characters serve their male counterparts, helping them move toward center stage, and here it’s the other way around. Abbott has turned something - a convention, a habit, an expectation - on its head, and I am here for it. Also refreshing: questionable decision-making aside, Kit tangibly, and successfully, fights her insecurities.

Speaking of questionable decision-making, I love that deep within this book’s most intense moral quandary, a woman chooses her career over the “right thing to do.” I mean, I don’t recommend her choice, her judgment is unethical at best and illegal at worst. But there’s a part of me who, perhaps in light of recent events, reacted with a fuck yeah girl, I get it, it’s the only way. It’s the only way to get anywhere, to survive, to get what you want. I rooted for her. Which makes you wonder: are we dangerous? Are we as dangerous as men claim, or fear? I think we can be. Maybe that’s the point.

So many questions. Good questions.

Logistically, Give Me Your Hand is a slim and satisfying page-turner with several enjoyable twists. There’s a hint of noir, a boldness of flavor, and a Hitchcockian aftertaste. I docked a star for melodrama but Abbott’s writing is gorgeous and profound and her ability to stoke a campfire of tension inspires. I know I keep coming back to her women, but her women. Her complex, driven, terrifying, sexual, arrogant, fierce, incredible, misguided women. They are addicting. They are cold and wonderful and broken and they are fighters. They fight to show their potential - friendly or otherwise.

Give Me Your Hand on: Amazon | Goodreads

Retro Review: The Lies of Locke Lamora

When I started this blog, I had been posting reviews on Goodreads for about 6 months. In the interest of having all of my book writing in one place, I will post one of these old reviews every Friday. They weren't written with a blog in mind, so please forgive the lack of summary and off-the-cuff tone.

5 stars. Game of Thrones + Ocean's Eleven + The Name of the Wind. In this epic fantasy, a group of thieving scoundrels dare to pull off an huge, sophisticated heist. As expected, the group, who call themselves the Gentleman Bastards, encounter complications - some small, some deadly - along the way.

This was so much fun. Top-notch world building, spectacular writing, detailed imagery, colorful characters, and clever dialogue - and so much fun. I really appreciated this book, perhaps even above the A Song of Ice and Fire books, because the exposition was done so carefully. I've often complained that George R.R. Martin includes details about his world to, essentially, rub your face in his craftsmanship. Scott Lynch seems to approach world building with a detailed but gentle touch. The info dump is palatable and doesn't impact the storytelling in a negative way.

I could honestly go on and on about how witty and stunning this book is, but that's already been done here - many times. So I'll leave it at that.

This books offers lovely writing, an interesting premise, and a wonderful adventure. You don't have to love fantasy to appreciate this one.

The Lies of Locke Lamora on: Amazon | Goodreads

Review: Origin

3 stars. This was 2 stars until the final act, when the semi-interesting reveal startled me out of what was essentially a skim read. But oh man, Dan Brown, you are such a douche. A douche who knows how to write page turners, dammit. A douche who knows how to tap into themes that are relevant, powerful and worth exploring. A douche who writes surprisingly heart-pounding action sequences and makes history cool again.

A douche, nonetheless. I’d like to point out that Robert Langdon is a thinly veiled representation of who Dan Brown wants to be: a sort of aw-shucks superhero who uses his photographic memory to drop knowledge bombs, saves the world and woos attractive ladies - attractive, bland, formulaic ladies. It’s transparent, problematic and a little sad. Like Michael Scott writing a screenplay in which the hero is named Agent Michael Scarn.

And look, Dan Brown is not just a douche. He's also an incredibly un-self-aware writer. The cringe level here was so high I could barely turn the pages at times. He describes EVERYTHING and EVERYONE like a textbook ("Winston Churchill himself, the celebrated British statesman who, in addition to being a military hero, historian, orator, and Nobel Prize-winning author, was an artist of remarkable talent.") and just … generally subscribes to a “tell-don’t-show” approach.

And the cliffhangers. My eyes almost got stuck from rolling so much. It’s incredibly strange to read about a bunch of characters reacting dramatically to shit that isn’t revealed to the reader - even stranger when you see right through it and don’t care. Characters read something - and almost inevitably read it again, for dramatic effect - but we don’t get to know what they read until later. This happens often. It’s lazy.

And the revelations. "Blake was not only an artist and illustrator … Blake was a prolific poet." Well, yeah, everyone who knows poetry or reads or exists is aware that William Blake was prominently a poet. Was this supposed to be a satisfying display of Langdon’s unparalleled intellect? Why was this written like a giant thunderclap? Why was Robert Langdon literally the only person in a building full of humans to recognize an Uber sticker?

And the implausible fight scenes. Let me tell you something, if swimming laps really makes you able to do insane backwards swan dives that are also deadly for your would-be assassin, um, sign me up at the nearest pool. Let’s do it. And while we’re at it, I’d also like a 3D printed gun made out of rosary beads, because that sounds useful. Did anyone else notice that every car is identified and elaborated upon?

But look. I love the idea of exploring where we come from and where we are going. I’m always interested in a discussion about technology and the risks we face as we become more dependent. I can’t help but relate to Brown’s message re: the media, as well as the pseudo-generational conflict between tradition and modernism. I also really appreciated how Dan Brown respectfully demonstrated not only where science and religion clash - but where there is potential for collaboration and peace.

Robert Langdon is getting a little tired, folks. He’s seen a lot, after all. Let’s give him a well-deserved rest. Let’s give someone else a chance, someone who isn't so … obviously Dan Brown’s teenage fantasy. Let’s keep asking questions and tackling challenging topics but PLEASE, PLEASE. Let’s grow and change and improve and destroy the formula. We can do better.

Origin on: Amazon | Goodreads

Review: The Miniaturist

2 stars. This is absolutely well-written and interesting, and I read it under 24 hours, which is a testament to the storytelling. But I found that a lot of the mystery fell flat - or at least, fell to the wayside to make room for a predictable, melodramatic soap opera.

SPOILERS BELOW.

The Miniaturist takes place in Amsterdam in the 1600s. Our protagonist, Nella, arrives to begin her marriage to a wealthy merchant trader ... and everything pretty much goes downhill from there. Nella's new family is not warm or friendly. Her husband does not visit her at night. Her questions go unanswered. She feels unwelcome, and like a failure.

But then she finds a distraction - a dollhouse of sorts, gifted to her by her enigmatic husband. She solicits the services of a local miniaturist and mysterious events unfold, seemingly related to the little gifts delivered for her house.

And then things take a really strange turn for the ... dramatic. In a very human sense of the word. Nella discovers her husband is gay, and that her sister-in-law is pregnant with the baby of their black servant (gasp!). 

And Nella somehow completely gets over her husband's secret, despite being a young and immature person living in the buttoned-up 1600s, and helps deliver her niece in a very vivid and graphic and bloody birth scene. And then her husband is executed.

We don't really ever discover anything else about the miniaturist, despite her ability. Is she a prophet? A spy? A witch? It's just an intriguing thread woven into an ultimately bland and unconvincing tapestry. 

The writing here is good, and the research is very well incorporated.  But I don't buy comparisons to Sarah Waters or Emma Donoghue. The Miniaturist is too dry, too focused on the wrong things, and too confused. It just wasn't a rewarding read, for me.

The Miniaturist on: Amazon | Goodreads

Review: You

5 stars. WOW. Blown away. What a brilliant, relevant book. Recommended reading for millennials, especially. Caroline Kepnes is a new-to-me voice, and her voice cuts deep. Nothing and no one is safe from this one. I feel like I need a shower, or a hot meal, or a stiff drink.

You is written in the second person. The voice belongs to Joe, a young bookseller who develops an obsession with a young writer, Beck. Yes, “Beck.” He searches for her, finds her, stalks her, courts her, steals from her, kills for her. And we witness it all through his eyes.

There’s nothing new about a sympathetic bad guy - an antihero - or an unreliable narrator. These concepts are widely used and widely enjoyed. I think many readers will find ways to root for Joe and sorta maybe hope he’ll win, in the end. And Joe is funny, smart, fucking charming.

But there are no winners here. That’s abundantly clear from the second Joe implies a pattern to his obsessions - that he has fixated on a woman before, and that it ended badly. The sense of dread only grows as Joe circles his prey. It’s not pretty.

And look, just because he’s not trustworthy doesn’t make him wrong, all of the time. If we choose to believe that Beck truly behaved the way she did, shit, she’s horrible! She didn’t deserve what she got, but wow, everyone in this book is fucked up.

That feels real, to me. Compelling and different. Different, hot. Atypical. And almost comforting. Like we’re all ridiculously awful and we like awful things and it’s all about avoiding the people who are somehow worse.

Existential crisis aside, You was an incredibly enjoyable read and Joe’s voice will stay with me for a long time. Forever, maybe. I loved his ups and his downs and his outrageous outlook. Kepnes captured entitled masculinity perfectly, and it’s disgusting. But he does feel correct, a lot of the time. Hmph.

Further reading: Notes on a Scandal. Maestra.

You on: Amazon | Goodreads

Retro Review: American Gods

When I started this blog, I had been posting reviews on Goodreads for about 6 months. In the interest of having all of my book writing in one place, I will post one of these old reviews every Friday. They weren't written with a blog in mind, so please forgive the lack of summary and off-the-cuff tone.

4 stars. For a book that clearly has so much to say, I don't have a lot to say about it. It was enjoyable, entertaining, and epic, but I can't say that it was as life-changing as I expected. It reminds me of the books I was assigned in school - yeah, I can see why this is important, but I'm not really moved, you know? I'm just reading this cause it moved a bunch of other people with different preferences than I.

There are some specific things I really liked, though: I found the writing refreshing. Shadow isn't your typical "hero," but on top of that, he doesn't question every single little thing that happens to him. He's just along for the ride, and the absence of the whole "what is happening" thought process that most protagonists suffer from helped move things right along.

There are some specific things I didn't like, too. Laura, for example. I love a good redemption story, but I wasn't really rooting for her at all. Maybe that's the point, though - maybe everyone, including the folks you don't root for - deserve a second chance, a chance to do the right thing and make the right choice. She certainly sacrificed herself admirably. I guess.

Hmm. I'm just not sure. It didn't affect me that much. I liked it, though. I guess. I really, really liked the television adaptation, maybe better. It took color and style and striking visual elements to make this story glow, for me.

American Gods has its moments, but it's not momentous.

American Gods on: Amazon | Goodreads

Review: Katherine

2 stars. My first DNF here at Kelly Book Stuff. DNFs are so, so rare for me that I barely know what to do with myself. The process that leads up to deciding not to finish a book is so agonizing for me, but sometimes it must be done. Here, it's simply an example of "great book, not for me." The writing is admirable, and clearly a lot of research went into this very detailed and very in-depth story. But it wasn't for me. 

Katherine tells the tale of Lady Katherine Swynford, a historical figure known as the mistress and eventual wife of John of Gaunt. It chronicles her early life, her first marriage, and her long love affair beneath a detailed tapestry of historical England and politics. At times it is a romance, at other times a political drama, sometimes a simple record of what went down back then. It is a rich and comprehensive portrait of what life was like when she lived.

And what an extraordinary life she lived! I'm so glad this book exists if only to bring Katherine to life and tell her story. Women - good women, bad women, right women, wrong women, ALL women - should not be overlooked. We must dedicate pages to them and honor their roles, both big and small, in history. 

But Katherine, for me, lacked forward momentum. It lacked a certain spark that kept me from turning pages. It also didn't feel real, at all. The author dances around some issues and it didn't sit well with me. She paints Katherine in a very flattering light that doesn't really reflect enough ... complexity. The romance was too sentimental, too swoon-worthy, and seriouslyyyyy idealistic. Look, to misquote Carmen Electra from an interview I saw with her once, sometimes people fuck and still want to talk to each other afterwards. It's actually that simple.

I've noticed that a lot of these detailed historical romances are long. Way too long, in my opinion. I absolutely love history and love watching it come to life, but this could've really benefited from serious editing. I also noticed that there is some outdated content that likely would not have gone over well in a modern publication. There's a lot of fat-shaming.

I can see why it's a classic, though. I certainly learned from it and might return one day to finish the last 25%. I loved Chaucer and the details about the food and holidays and traditions from that time period. Great book, for sure, but not for me (to finish).

Katherine on: Amazon | Goodreads

Retro Review: The Constant Princess

When I started this blog, I had been posting reviews on Goodreads for about 6 months. In the interest of having all of my book writing in one place, I will post one of these old reviews every Friday. They weren't written with a blog in mind, so please forgive the lack of summary and off-the-cuff tone.

2 stars. This is going to be a tricky one.

First things first: this is the only book I've ready by Philippa Gregory. So my opinion of this may change after reading others by her. We'll see.

Second: I realize that there is some controversy surrounding the supposed historical accuracy of these novels. In reading this one, the level of accuracy - or lack thereof - didn't bother me in the slightest. This book was never marketed as non-fiction, so I can't really take issue with the author's craftsmanship. And it IS craftsmanship. She's crafting a story of her own. In no way does she claim to be telling the true story of "what really happened." It's an entertaining interpretation of events that may or may not have happened hundreds of years ago. All I care about is the writing.

So, the writing. Hmm. Like I said, this is going to be tricky. I was so infuriated by some of the events depicted in this book that I'm having trouble separating my frustration with the story and my actual opinion of the writing itself. Like, WTF humans? WTF men? Why did you ever, in the history of the world, treat women like that? And apparently, still do, to some degree?

I know, I know. I know it's not that simple. Gender dynamics have never been black and white - and I'm very aware of the complex circumstances from which modern society evolved. It's just ... ugh, it made my skin crawl to experience things so intimately.

Yes, women have to fight in today's day and age in almost every sphere of their lives - home, school, the workplace, etc. But man am I glad I don't have to produce an heir - something that I would have absolutely no control over and at the risk of my LIFE - in order to avoid poverty or DEATH. As I said, WTF.

Sigh. I'll try to keep my feminist explosions of retrospective anger to myself and focus on the book.

It's fairly entertaining. Fairly. It's not a page turner, and it took me awhile to finish. It's not bad, exactly, nor is it boring, exactly, but it's not ... thrilling. I wasn't bothered by the switching point of view (though I can see why it bothered other readers). I wasn't bothered by the depiction of Henry VIII (though I can DEFINITELY see why that bothered other readers as well). Nor was I bothered by the author putting forth her message of tolerance, gender equality, and religious freedom (all authors have an agenda).

But yeah, it was just okay. I'm always interested to learn more about the Tudor period, and generally I enjoy historical fiction, but this almost felt like too much learning.

The Constant Princess on: Amazon | Goodreads

Review: Let the Right One In

4 stars. Let the Right One In, a Swedish book I read in translation, is a story about a vampire. It takes place in a suburban town plagued by a series of violent murders. We meet curious young children, troubled adolescents, and cynical middle-aged alcoholics as they process and react to the horror and pain of loss and tragedy. 

It's almost a coming-of-age book for everyone, regardless of age. The identity of the monster is never in doubt, so it isn't a traditional mystery, but there is plenty of horror from vampires and humans alike. It's an interesting, unique take on vampire fiction reminiscent of Octavia Butler's Fledgling. And it's gorgeous. It's an atmospheric fairy tale full of lore and lessons.

And it's a story about love. Many different types of love.

The first type of love: pure, innocent love. 12-year-old Oskar, bullied and beaten and eager for revenge, finds a true friend in Eli. It is an honest, chaste, legitimate type of love that, when returned, truly elevates his sense of self-worth, his agency - his identity - in an incredibly powerful way. 

The second type of love: love driven by lust, obsession, greed, power. Wrong. This is the type of love manifested by Hakan. The wrongness of his love is reflected, almost too literally, by his physical appearance towards the end of the novel. He becomes, essentially, a walking, destructive, immortal penis. Yikes.

The third type of love: a cynical, wise love no less strong but based on companionship. Lacke and Virginia embody this type of love. These folks, who have been through it all, seen hardship, fought life itself, have somehow found warmth in each other. And it's beautiful.

I was actually in the mood for something much darker than this turned out, but I'm not mad about it. The characterization is incredible - even the minor appearances are more than plot devices. It lent to the book's distinctly suburban feel, a sort of small town-big problems vibe with a lot of blood thrown in. 

I suppose this ended up being a sort of weird review, but the truth is I really recommend Let the Right One In. I know it came out when everyone was all-Twilight-all-the-time (sigh), so, while often stated as BETTER than that shit, most people know it as the vampire book that isn't Twilight. Read it, though, because it's interesting, and it's canon.

Let the Right One In on: Amazon | Goodreads