Review: The Witch of Willow Hall

3 stars. I picked this up determined to prolong the spookiness in my life after Halloween (and after finishing The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina). I was hoping for something dark, scary, and witchy - and ended up with what was essentially a less sophisticated Jane Austen romance novel. No, I didn’t hate this, hence the middle-ground rating, but it wasn’t what I wanted.

The Witch of Willow Hall tells the story of Lydia Montrose as she attempts to adjust to a new home after her family is exiled from Boston. It is the early 1800s and the Salem witch trials are a not-so-distant memory. Lydia struggles to keep the peace with her two sisters, to sort out her feelings for a handsome neighbor, and to deal with an unseen threat that seems to emanate from Willow Hall - and from within herself.

The premise is interesting enough, but I just could not get behind our heroine. I’m so peeved by characters who are idiotic about their own feelings - it’s called attraction, dummy! You aren’t blushing “for some reason,” you aren’t weak at the knees “inexplicably,” it’s because you’re in lust with somebody! I don’t care what time period you’re from, that shit is universal.

Lydia also - quite unfortunately - confuses, or negates, the feminist undertones of the story. There are some great moments - moments where she demonstrates true female empowerment, and female complexity. And the next moment, she’s fainting into her true love’s arms for really no reason at all. I just don’t get that. She’s a fantastic sister, a forgiving daughter and a badass witch. But this treads dangerously into “not without a man” territory.

Speaking of the romance, I’m sorry, but it didn’t feel real for me. I spoke about one trope already, but there are many here. Insta-lust, sexual tension, a weird love triangle (square?) and some random incest? Hester Fox is actually a BEAUTIFUL linguist, and I loved her way with words, but there’s a lot of room to grow in her plotting.

I’m so sorry, but this wasn’t truly gothic for me. It was somewhat atmospheric, but it wasn’t haunting. It gets three stars because it is a page turner, and because I appreciate the intent here. I’ll likely read more by this author and support her efforts. We always need more stories about strong women! This just wasn’t nasty enough for my tastes.

The Witch of Willow Hall on: Amazon | Goodreads

Retro Review: The Name of the Wind

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.

3 stars. This book is like the stoned version of A Song of Ice and Fire.

It's got terrific world building and great writing. But it's sleepy. It's mellow. It's super chill. It hyperfocuses on things that don't really warrant attention.

It's actually so good!

But something is definitely missing. A true climax? It just doesn't have the nastiness I enjoy so much in other fantasy novels.

Also - the money. Oh, the money. Kvothe's bank account yo-yo's more than mine, which is saying something. And we, as lucky readers, are privy to every transaction, deposit, and withdrawal. I stress enough about money as it is; I'd rather not stress about it through my characters.

Certainly, certainly. It adds a sense of realism and background and context to the character and to the story. It just isn't my cup of tea.

Again, terrific world building. It reminded me a little bit of the Harry Potter books in that sense - we get the good, we get the bad, we get the normal. Books tend to focus on extreme situations and this one slows down so we get the big picture. I enjoyed that. Maybe it slowed down a little too much, though.

Bottom line: yeah, I guess I'll read more.

The Name of the Wind on: Amazon | Goodreads

Review: Killers of the Flower Moon

4 stars. I don't know why I continue to be astounded by the sheer amount of hate and greed in this world, but it shocks me still. The depths to which people will go for money or power or to serve their own egos ... it is heartbreaking and infuriating and, in this case, tragic. An entire race targeted and murdered for money - history has taught us these lessons over and over and we don't learn. We still haven't learned.

Horror aside, I really enjoyed reading this story. With a well-written, succinct style, David Grann chronicles the Reign of Terror, a period of time in the 1920's during which members of the Osage Indian tribe were murdered for their oil money. He gives us villains and heroes and cowboys and secret agents and shocks us with the twists and turns of the incredible conspiracy. Considering how committed men were to covering up the crimes, Grann is able to tell the story with detail.

And I enjoyed that. I enjoyed learning about this untold piece of history and strengthening my knowledge of why the justice system - and in some cases, why the government - is the way it is today. Grann is honest about the widespread corruption in local politics and also, almost surprisingly, honest about Hoover's extreme bureaucratic methods in the early days of the FBI. Every thread he pulled uncovered something interesting and foreboding.

In some ways, justice was served. But my emotions and thoughts upon finishing are complex. It was a relief to read about the "victories," and it gives me a shred of hope that decent individuals exist and will continue to fight the good fight for the unseen and unheard. But there is so much anger that this happened in the first place. Another atrocity committed in my country sorely overlooked and ignored. I'm so glad I read this and learned. Everyone needs to.

Killers of the Flower Moon on: Amazon | Goodreads

Retro Review: Warcross

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. Ooh, I am so into this. I’m all about comparing books to really specific food and drinks, and this is a cool, refreshing glass of Sprite. It’s electric. I was really, really entertained.

Slightly predictable? Definitely. Did it resemble Hunger Games a little too closely? Maybe. But the worldbuilding is incredible and the technology feels real. And having just visited Japan, I loved the descriptions of Tokyo. And the diversity - so natural and right and real. The writing is simple but in a good way, not amateur … it doesn’t pander to its audience.

I just loved how colorful it was. And I loved the character names, they felt really on point, if you’re the type of person who cares about such things, which I oddly really do. I loved that the main female character codes like a badass, and I loved that the romance took such an unexpected turn.

Warcross, to me, is one of those rare magical books that successfully provides a colorful escape, strong characters to root for, and a sense of youthful adventure. Bottom line: this author is going places and I can’t wait to see where.

Warcross on: Amazon | Goodreads

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