I'm DNF-ing this, because I don't hate myself enough to force myself to read it all the way through. I stopped at 77 pages out of 298.
The prose is fla...moreI'm DNF-ing this, because I don't hate myself enough to force myself to read it all the way through. I stopped at 77 pages out of 298.
The prose is flat. It's not hardboiled, mind you; I dig hardboiled prose, I swoon for Chandler's sturdy writing style, etc., etc., but this writing is flat, bland, and repetitive. Don't know if that's the fault of the translator or what, but it was awful to read: my eyes kept recoiling from the shallow sentences and insights, and I could not get through more than a few chapters. Like, okay: three different people "yelp," for different reasons and under different conditions, within a couple of pages. Who, other than my pint-sized dogs, yelps that much? I wanted to help this book out, offer to go to thesaurus.com to find words that actually pulled their own weight.
Then there are my personal preferences, which made attempting to read the book unenjoyable for me. I struggle very very much with books with a main male character lusting/stalking over a woman he only barely knows, and based on the extremely shallow prose and depiction of characters, I had no trust that the author would make this a satisfying complex character study, sooo. I was basically being told that this guy was some genius, but all I saw was him thinking with his dick and making bizarre leaps of logic.
And basically, I thought I'd be interested in crime fiction that broke down the concept of "alibi," but it turned out, I'm not. I mean, really. You killed a guy, lady. That's against the law. Sure, you had reasons why you did it, and I sympathize, but that doesn't make it legal to do what you (and your daughter) did.
Like I said, I bounced off the book, both for personal reasons and for the lifeless prose, but I'm sure there was a fabulous plot somewhere. But given the characters and the premise, I wasn't interested in sticking around for the analytical puzzle. Lesson learned: be way more selective about books I request through FirstReads. And stick to crime fiction which is more whodunnit/whydunnit than cat-and-mouse style.
Note: I received a review copy of this book for free from the publisher via the First Reads program here at Goodreads.(less)
It was quite funny, and both Mike and Psmith were awesome characters, and it was fun watching Wodehouse in the beginning stages of developing his clas...moreIt was quite funny, and both Mike and Psmith were awesome characters, and it was fun watching Wodehouse in the beginning stages of developing his classic Wodehousian plots, but oh good gosh, the cricket. Couldn't make heads or tails of it, which wasn't a problem until the very end, in which the way the last match progressed was important (and intricately described) but I couldn't grasp it in the slightest. So I'm unlikely to reread, but I was mostly charmed during this read.(less)
I rarely click with the Harlequin Presents line (or, in this specific case, as I read the U.K. version, the Mills & Boon Modern line), but oh, I e...moreI rarely click with the Harlequin Presents line (or, in this specific case, as I read the U.K. version, the Mills & Boon Modern line), but oh, I enjoyed this one. Alison, a lawyer who'd intended to be a single mother, is now carrying a royal heir after a mistake is made at her fertility clinic, and Max (aka Maximo Rossi, Prince of Turan) is a widower who hadn't dared to hope for another chance at fatherhood. The conflict between them is less about butting heads and more about struggling to align their two lives, and to reconcile who they'd thought they'd be with whom circumstances are dictating they become.
There were some staple tropes that made me roll my eyes (Alison, a twenty-eight year-old pregnant woman, is OF COURSE a virgin), but the characters rose above stereotypes and were complicated people with complicated feelings. I could see Max's alphaness, but he was also genuinely respectful and emotionally intelligent (even if he'd deny that later fact), and Alison's stated intelligence wasn't undermined by her actions. Their interactions were often grounded in humor as well as respect, and I enjoyed watching them appeal to and relate to each other's rational and emotional sides. So much of this story was interior to the characters, with their inner lives and own emotional wounds, but the two made a commitment to a communicative partnership, and it was easy to follow how they'd fall in love with each other as well.(less)
Nobody writes sensual (as in, creatively engaging all the senses and making that matter) quite like Barbara Samuel/O'Neal, and Heart of a Knight didn'...moreNobody writes sensual (as in, creatively engaging all the senses and making that matter) quite like Barbara Samuel/O'Neal, and Heart of a Knight didn't disappoint in that sense. It did seem repetitive at times (yes, I get it, Dark Thomas is a big, dark, gigantic, threatening hulk of man), and I was pretty bored by the characters themselves for the first part of the book. My main problem was Thomas being all "I have a secret that must not be told, if the truth came out, it'd be a fate worse than angst, blah blah blah." I'm not fond of a dark secret being alluded to and left untold for large parts of the book, and that made the first part of this book such a drag. The story did pick up, however, once Lyssa discovered Thomas's secret, and the two could begin interacting in meaningful ways. I was a little annoyed by the plot catalyst relying so much on a scheming teenage girl, as well. It just felt too banal of a way to manipulate plot, even if I appreciated some of the engaging twists (and the resolution) of said scheming-teenage-girl plot.
Not the same caliber as A Bed of Spices (which, omg, still not over how good that book was), but a quality medieval romance all the same.(less)
Midway through this book, I wasn't sure I'd finish it. The mistaken assumptions and refusals to communicate were just too frustrating. I know, I know,...moreMidway through this book, I wasn't sure I'd finish it. The mistaken assumptions and refusals to communicate were just too frustrating. I know, I know, and believe me, I knew what I was getting into, reading a Harlequin Presents. I had liked the beginning, the gothic-y feel of the hero and heroine meeting in a cemetery, the heroine running away from her own wedding during a rainstorm and finding herself drawn to the expansive estate of the brooding, mysterious hero. Their initial interactions were passionately heated and enjoyable to read, and Grey's writing style was elegantly smooth. But then the plot plodded along with contrived conflict, poor communication, and stock tropes. The story did eventually take an upward turn, rewarding the reader with memorably cinematic scenes, and I finished the book believing these characters did indeed find a happy ending. All in all, the story was worth pushing through the tiresome parts.(less)
Edited: To correct a character's name. I'm bad with names and can't read my own notes, apparently!
Edited again: So, adding this a year later than my i...moreEdited: To correct a character's name. I'm bad with names and can't read my own notes, apparently!
Edited again: So, adding this a year later than my initial review! Other people's responses to this book have opened my eyes to some fairly ugly aspects to this book that I in my ignorance didn't notice let alone comprehend. It was pretty obtuse and disappointing of me to not recognize some stock examples of problematic representation, even if I'm not as familiar with Irish history specifically. This review provides an immensely thoughtful analysis of the issues that I was ignorant of and will keep in mind if I reread this book or continue with the series.
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While I love good supernatural/paranormal/urban fantasy stories, I've never really understood the appeal of fairies (the fae, the good folk, etc., etc.) and lacked the mythological background to conceptualize them as something other than, say, Tinker Bell (who is awesome, don't get me wrong), or the fairies from A Midsummer Night's Dream (who I just find irritating). I'd have never picked this book up had the publisher not offered it for free. And it'd have been my great loss! Of Blood and Honey is the sort of urban fantasy that makes other urban fantasy series look bad, it's just that creative and different.
The book is set in Ireland in the 1970s. Set amid the Troubles, violent things happen. Dark, twisted things happen. For those interested in warnings, (view spoiler)[both the main character and another character are raped; either the lead-up or the aftermath are explicitly related, but the actual acts occur "off-screen." (hide spoiler)] Much of the graphicness is implied, rather than explicitly or exploitatively stated, which I really appreciated. I really appreciated the details and the historical reality Leicht constructed and smoothly presented.
The conflict is a fascinating one, and well-layered. Fairies, fallen angels and the priests who hunt them, Catholics, Protestants, and Liam, a half-fae young man from Derry who struggles to repress the demons inside him. The fairies played only a small part in this book, but I suspect the sequel will delve further into their world.
My main issue with this book was how much the other characters kept Liam in the dark about who he was and the supernatural struggle that was drawing him in. It was just very frustrating, that a couple truthful and timely conversations might have made things easier for Liam! Other than that, though, the book was a smooth, engaging, unique read, and I look forward to the sequel when it's released.(less)
Generally, I have a tendency to gag while reading a blurb that talks about ~exploring the bonds between mothers and daughters~, and one that additiona...moreGenerally, I have a tendency to gag while reading a blurb that talks about ~exploring the bonds between mothers and daughters~, and one that additionally drops cliches like "offer a second chance at love." Barbara O'Neal, however, digs deep into characters and relationships, and she pulls out the poignant and the tough and the fragile. And she uses that stuff to tell her story, not the cliches or the stereotypes or the superficial obvious stuff. So while How to Bake a Perfect Life is a very, very women's fiction-y type read (female family ties, pastries and bakeries, shopping trips and eloquently described dinners, and the matter of loving a complicated but steadfast man after falling for awful ones) with a small touch of magical realism (and it works for me, as said magic is neither heavy-handed nor twee nor deux ex machina), it's a bright shining star of the genre. It illuminates what I love in this genre. And it taught me about baking bread. So, score!
This is an emotional, rather than an analytical, five-star justification. I can point out little flaws that'd cause me to mark down a book I liked less (too many little stories/characters that were either unnecessary or brought up but not used fully, problems that got resolved too nicely, multiple descriptions of patterns as "ethnic") but heart-wise? This book hit me in exactly the right place. The lives of the characters felt remarkably full and complex. Their lives, their houses, their stories felt lived in, extending beyond the pages and beyond the words. The relationships weren't simple or straight-forward, and the characters' feelings felt like real feelings, complex and deep.(less)
Easily the best book (yet) in the series. THERE IS A PLOT. THAT IS EASILY FOLLOWABLE. THAT IS NOT MESSY. THAT GOES BEYOND "ALEXIA IS SEEMINGLY RANDOML...moreEasily the best book (yet) in the series. THERE IS A PLOT. THAT IS EASILY FOLLOWABLE. THAT IS NOT MESSY. THAT GOES BEYOND "ALEXIA IS SEEMINGLY RANDOMLY ATTACKED, AGAIN AND AGAIN." (Although the book started out with that, and I was going to cringe, but then it got better.) Yay! I actually liked Maccon in this installment! (He's finally won my approval with his treatment of Biffy. Oh, Biffy. My heart kept breaking for him.) There are consequences upon consequences of previous choices from books, there are mysteries solved and answers revealed, there are new plot threads that'll undoubtedly be explored in future books (just for the hilarity alone, I can't wait to see the consequences of Alexia funding the Tunstells' theatre group), and Alexia's awesomeness is unparalleled. She's pregnant-to-burst and she's still doing her best to unravel and foil an assassination attempt. She has a duty to queen and country, after all.
And, as always, it was quite funny. Lord Akeldama's closets (and his adoption plans)! Covert Operation Fling Furniture! "Follow that porcupine!" Maccon taking and wearing Madame Lefoux's top hat! "Shame on you! Bad vampire!"
The ending--particularly the birth of Maccon and Alexia's child--was really satisfying as well. Lots of new consequences that'll take the series in an exciting direction, and again, I like that Maccon is being a better person. Maybe he is worthy of Alexia after all.
I'm excited to read where the next book goes.(less)
The secret shame of my Internet bookmarks: among the recipes, the how-to articles, and the gazillion and one book reviews, I have saved links to a few...moreThe secret shame of my Internet bookmarks: among the recipes, the how-to articles, and the gazillion and one book reviews, I have saved links to a few personal blogs of people who belong to subcultures I am in no way a part of but am voyeuristically fascinated by. That's what blogs are for, right? An opportunity to expand one's own world by learning about the lives of other people. I also have to admit I've done a little daydreaming about what my life would be like if I were a part of these kinds of subcultures.
So, yeah. When I read the blurb for this book, I thought, "Hmmmm. I can recognize some of the feelings here."
For Dylan, the seventeen-year-old protagonist of Faking Faith, the Internet is first a source of trouble (after Dylan's boyfriend cheats on her and she takes a golf club to his car--the incident of course captured in video and posted to the Internet--he then emails to the rest of the school the topless cell phone pics she had sent him earlier) and then later a source of refuge. Friendless and harassed at her high school, she's now spending a lot of time home alone, at the computer. She becomes obsessed by the blogs of fundamentalist Christian teenage girls who seem to live picture-perfect lives and who also seem to have the peace and serenity of knowing All The Answers. But Dylan's not satisified by just reading or even just commenting on the blogs. No, Dylan has to assume a fake identity as one of these girls and get herself into this group. She wants to be accepted by them. And it all happens just as she dreams it, and within a few months, Dylan's actually buying a bus ticket to go visit her new best friend--the most popular and most virtuous girl of all these bloggers--and she's going to pull off this charade in person.
In a way, this book is pretty much a classic YA novel: Dylan is desperate to be accepted by a group of girls who have everything she thought she wanted, she learns this life is obviously not what it seems like from the outside, and she returns to her old life and knows how to improve it. I like the Internet and Quiverfull twist, and I thought that Bloss did a fair job depicting the religious aspect without being too one-dimensional--and a particular good job at depicting what it was like for those caught in that lifestyle (Dylan's friend Abigail, and Asher, Abigail's brother). I didn't find the characters particularly deep; Dylan's never given much of a personality other than her obsessive stalking of the lifestyle, and I was pretty disappointed by how she didn't even think through how she'd pull off her fakery in person, and how she managed to fool so many people for so long. The book centers primarily around her visit to Abigail's family's farm, not the actual Internet blogging stuff, so I was deprived of an opportunity to read for myself whether Dylan was convincing in her fakery. I found her parents' change of heart in the end to be pretty convenient, too, but I really did like seeing how they could communicate better now, with so much out in the open.
The ending's tone and openness was one of my favorite things about the book. (Speaking of the openness, this is a good book for fandom. After reading it, I knew exactly what kind of fanfiction I'd want from this book, and I could see other people getting into it, too.) There aren't easy answers, but Dylan now knows what she could have faith in, and what she wants to have faith in, and she's better equipped to work toward peace and security and friendship and family in her own life.(less)
If this book was intended to be the story of a woman being brainwashed into a misogynist cult, I might have considered this successful.
If this book wa...moreIf this book was intended to be the story of a woman being brainwashed into a misogynist cult, I might have considered this successful.
If this book was intended to be some science fiction analog where general rules of reality should not enter my mind when reading it, I might have also found this more successful.
I also totally accept labeling this as good old-fashioned soapy drama. Because soapy drama, THIS BOOK HAS IT.
But I don't like this as a contemporary romance.
I understand elements of what makes Kristen Ashley's books so appealing. I quite liked Tyra's voice, and how fun it was to read a protagonist not censoring herself or second-guessing her emotions as she narrated the story in immediate first-person. I loved the set-up dynamic of the relationship: she falls in love with him after a one night stand, he kicks her out of his bed with barely a "thank you, ma'am", she is full of tenacious hate for him and then is full of embarrassment (but, awesomely, not a lot of shame) when she learns he is her new boss, and then they both discover that they underestimated one another and go through the process of learning who the other person really is, and they fall in love along the way.
If that were the sum of the story, I would enjoy this book the way other readers (whom I respect) do.
Unfortunately, the characters were unbelievable and foolish and one-note. I could believe in Tyra and Tack falling in love, sure. I just didn't believe in them as representative of real people. Additionally, relationships were superficial: everyone ~loves~ Tyra except the one-dimensional evil characters. Plus, what everyone says about Ashley's writing is true: it's godawful, actively terrible, and confusing prose at times. The dialogue is often laughable, and not purposely.
But what I disliked the most, what made this book a definite "I disliked it" rather than "It was okay" on the Goodreads rating scale, was the toxic misogyny, and how quickly Tyra lost all her objections to it. Not to mention how quickly Tyra became a person who communicated in violence, who believed, with no shades of grey, that inflicting violence was an appropriate answer. I was pretty sickened that, in the book's epilogue, Tyra was just as in love with the motorcycle club (and so offended that her new stepson was not particularly interested in joining it, so bewildered that he could see the option of life outside it...how quickly she forgot that people can live outside cycles of violence and toxic patriarchy!) as she was with her husband. Ugh. Cult. (Especially when the vast majority of other women in this book, who I assume were previous protagonists in the series and who each inexplicably have tiny sections from their POV near the end of the book, are basically in the same relationship dynamic as Tyra and Tack, and their voices are all the freaking same. I found it preeeetty creepy.)
Don't get me wrong. I totally recognize misogyny as toxic and pervasive in the real world, and I wouldn't fault a book solely for depicting real world dynamics. And if this book had any interest in critiquing misogyny, in the cultural construction of masculinity and how violence is a huge thread of that construction, I'd be more comfortable in liking the relationship between Tyra and Tack. But there was none of that. There was romanticizing of misogyny and of patriarchy. There was normalizing of violence and of man-pain being the most important pain in the world.
For one example, we'll go with Tack's need to strangle Tyra. Wait, I'm sorry. What I mean is his need to, when angry about things (not necessarily Tyra, but about frightening situations she finds herself in), push Tyra back and wrap his hands around her throat. He does this twice, with me yelling at the book, "GET OUT OF THIS RELATIONSHIP NOW, THIS IS A STEP TOWARDS PHYSICAL ABUSE, DO NOT LISTEN TO THE SWEET NOTHINGS HE TELLS YOU." After the second time Tack does this, Tyra confronts him about not liking his hands around her throat.
And he gives her a sob story about how he has to feel her pulse, because his sister ODed, and that when scared he needs to console himself with that knowledge that his loved one still has a pulse.
Fuck your manpain, Tack. Do not fucking wrap your hand around a woman's throat, ESPECIALLY when you're angry.
Because...fuck that. There are other ways to tell if someone's alive. Like, noticing that they're talking. That they're upright and appear to be breathing. Break out a compact mirror and hold it above their mouth to see if it steams up, as I hear that's a traditional technique. Or you could even wrap your hand around their wrist to feel the pulse there, which could break it surely, but which is less scary than mimicking strangling them.
Fuck that.
And his patronizing bullshit about soft spots, and how Tack likes Tyra because of her soft spot, because his deceased sister had a soft spot too. You know the fuck what? Other women have soft spots, too. They don't always manifest as victim types or sassy victim types like Tyra and I assume the other women protagonists in this series. Women like Naomi and the BeeBee who are depicted as and serve the plot solely as one-dimensional evil shrews, the latter being slutshamed like whoa, they have soft spots. They've just been completely run down by being caught in this misogynistic culture. The text even makes clear that Naomi grew up in this motorcycle club, in which women are valued only in relation to their men and to the extent which they accept the violence and chauvinistic culture. Is it any fucking wonder that Naomi clung to materialism as something that could give her meaning, that could possibly make her feel loved, and rejects the relationships that are a web of pain, that BeeBee's strategy is to lovelessly fuck men who could possibly get her power? I don't buy the "girl power" thread in this book, despite liking that Tyra did have female friendships, because there was no sense that this representation of "girl power" wasn't just replicating venomous and patriarchal hierarchies of worth.
And in the end, Tyra bought into it all. I wanted to tell her she thought she was being loved, and she may have been "respected" as the "woman" of the motorcycle club's head, but she was not being respected as a person.
That's not the kind of love I enjoy reading about.
Some thoughtful and neat twists on the paranormal world and its inhabitants, but the story is weakly plotted and flatly written, and the romance aspec...moreSome thoughtful and neat twists on the paranormal world and its inhabitants, but the story is weakly plotted and flatly written, and the romance aspect is unengaging.
I saw an ad for this book on a romance novel blog months ago and clicked on it eagerly simply because of the heroine's attire on the cover: she's wearing a collared, button-down shirt and a pencil skirt. Have you seen what paranormal heroines usually wear on covers? It's all tight leather pants and tank tops and black black black. And, if anything, this tips off the reader that Natalya is not your ordinary paranormal heroine.
The most prominent difference is that Natalya has OCD and it impacts her life, her relationships, and her status as a werewolf. A lot of reviews and blurbs include patronizing claims like calling Natalya lovably quirky or adorably neurotic (seriously? SERIOUSLY?), which made me wary, but I thought the book treated Natalya's OCD with seriousness and didn't play it for laughs or for "cuteness" or to turn Natalya into a victim needing rescuing. Which was awesome. On the other hand, the overeating habits of Aggie, Natalia's best friend who is a werewolf with an eating disorder, were sometimes a subject of amusement, which did make me wince, but on the other hand, Aggie was also treated as more than just her eating habits and portrayed as extremely sympathetic, and the book spends time showing how Aggie and Natalya are actually friends and do care greatly about each other.
Plus, Natalya goes to group therapy for paranormal creatures wrestling with various aspects of mental health, and while I think that thread of the plot culminated in a way that was oversentimental and unbelievable, it was a really neat thing to portray, and the supportive friendships born out of that therapy group were sweet. Lots of kindness and humanity in showing how people (or werewolves, mermaids, wizards, trolls, deities, muses, etc.) can fall through the cracks and how they work hard, really hard, to pull themselves out.
The actual story, however, was frustrating. The worldbuilding and the characters were so neat, but the skeleton underneath, the vehicle of the book, was so listless. :/
First, Natalya's mooning over Thorn came across as pretty pathetic. (I just want to make that clear that when I call her feelings pathetic, I'm not referring to her OCD at all, which years ago was exacerbated by his abandonment of her; it's her current "I looooove him and he sneaks into my room like a creepy Edward Cullen and makes me feel safe because he does that and I looooove him but cannot be with him" feelings that I'm rolling my eyes at.) He came across as nothing more than a generic alpha werewolf with ~feeeeelings~ for the ex he wronged. No personality. No humor. Just tons of stated attraction. Bleh. It was desperately difficult to see what Natalya might have seen in him, or to even find him interesting when he showed up on the page. At the same time, the other love interest, fellow group-therapy attendee Nick, had slightly more personality but was also fairly bland. In comparison to all the female characters who show up practically bursting with personality and history (Natalya, Aggie, all of Natalya's older female relatives, Heidi the mermaid and Abby the muse, Karey the pregnant nymph), the main male characters weren't interesting at all. The minor male characters (Natalya's goblin boss, her creepy necromancer coworker with whom she goes on one very memorable date) were more engaging than the two love interests! It was as if in trying to make the male leads inoffensive and likeable to a vast number of readers, they lost the ability to have any sort of interesting angles or personality. This is a pretty common complaint I have with paranormal romances, though, so more devoted fans of the genre probably wouldn't mind the way I did.
Second, the plot was just...meh. When a rival pack is encroaching on Natalya's former pack's area, they particularly target Natalya, and no one knows why, least of all Natalya. The reason why was so clumsily handled that I set aside the book and almost didn't finish the last few pages. (view spoiler)[The event that put Natalya on their target list was that she killed the pack leader's son five years back when, during a search for a missing local girl, she discovered he attacked/kidnapped/abused her. A slight reference to this event was mentioned once, in a couple sentences, near the beginning of the book, but not to the fact that Natalya quietly murdered the man. From then until a confrontation with the rival pack leader, there is no mention of this event AT ALL, and here we are, in Natalya's first-person POV, getting all the details of all her feelings and thoughts and ~memories of Thorn~ but oh, not a single reference to how she killed a guy before. I would have thought that murdering someone would be a pivotal event in one's life, but a) it wasn't referenced or alluded to at all in Natalya's thoughts, b) there was no indication that she had suppressed memories of the event, and c) the trauma didn't manifest in any expressions of unusual mental health; all of Natalya's mental disorder manifestations were unrelated and more closely connected as coping techniques for Thorn's abandonment than the whole killed-a-guy thing. (hide spoiler)] It wasn't cohesive, it wasn't organic, and it wasn't believable. Other unbelievable things: there was no indication that Natalya's former pack, or werewolves in general, were good for anything other than group barbeques and breeding. Compared to the dimension Madison gave to the paranormal world in other senses, this lack of detail of what it meant to be a werewolf or a pack member felt oddly jarring.
Third, little things in the writing style irritated me. Some of the things Natalya said made no logical sense or contradicted herself.
Example: Natalya and Thorn discover that her male relatives, camping out in a forest to find a missing pack member, had their camp infiltrated and seized by the rival pack. They're sneaking upon the camp and Natalya thinks, "For once I was proud of my uncles--they'd picked a position that we could approach from downwind." Am I missing something? Why should she be proud? Sure, that location makes it convenient for her and Thorn's stealth approach, but it was also kinda what let the rival pack sneak up on them, too. Don't be proud of them for their stupid mistake, Natalya.
Another example: Natalya remembers a painful piece of Aggie's family history, how Aggie's mother was used as a breeder. She says, "Aggie had never let me forget that fact during camp. While everyone else opened up about their problems, Aggie was too embarrassed to talk about the dirty little secret among the more affluent packs--the practice of forced breeding for the high-ranking females." How did Aggie never let Natalya forget if she was too embarrassed to talk about it? Am I missing something, because isn't that a contradiction? There's no follow up sentences about how it was a secret Aggie told Natalya once in complete confidence, etc., just two sentences that didn't make sense together.
And a third example of jarring inconsistency in the writing: "Why did every guy--the ones who knew I was a werewolf, that is--assume that when I said it was that time of the month that I meant a woman's monthly cycle? Well, it wasn't as if I mentioned the subject very often. When I said it to Bill, he simply nodded and replied, 'So that's why Mrs. Ferguson kept sniffing the other customers.'" If, quote "every guy" made the menstrual cycle assumption, IT'S A CONTRADICTION for Bill to have not. I...just...ack. Same paragraph, contradictory sentences. Why should I assume that "every guy" was an exaggeration? Why couldn't it just have been "nearly every guy"? When I'm arguing about minor words in your prose, you can guess I've been yanked out of the story world.
Anyway, the writing often felt careless like that and made me lose trust in the story. There are other examples, but those are some of the ones that irritated me the most.
Overall, there was a lot to like, but a lot to find irritating and unengaging. I think many paranormal romance readers looking for a not-so-high-octane series with fresh ideas about worldbuilding and characters would be pleased by this book.(less)
The concept and some of the elements of Cracked Up to Be remind me of Laurie Halse Anderson's Speak and of the television show Veronica Mars. Parker,...moreThe concept and some of the elements of Cracked Up to Be remind me of Laurie Halse Anderson's Speak and of the television show Veronica Mars. Parker, though, is a protagonist incomparable to both Melinda and Veronica. Parker is angry, hurting, and desperately alone, especially while under the watchful eye of nearly everyone at her Catholic high school. Parker is a good girl gone bad, a perfectionist who has funneled her energy and emotions into self-destructing as completely as she can--and to not let anyone help her or prevent her from doing so.
This type of protagonist can be frustrating to read. Parker went from straight-A cheerleader to a near-dropout spending the school day either drunk or hungover and stealing the homework of friends, and the reason for this drastic change is revealed slowly and in flashbacks. All the characters seem to know at least part of the story and part of why Parker acts as she does, but Parker herself is not very forthcoming in the narrative. However, I did find the eventual full revelation worth the teasing and the secret-keeping, and the consequences were not shied away from. Parker's motivations become crystal clear.
The relationship in this really worked for me. Parker and Jake push and pull each other, and neither is "saving" the other. It felt very realistic. Also realistic was her relationships with Becky and Chris. Parker relates to all of them in complicated ways.
The ending includes both hard-won optimism and a nod to the inability to have perfect endings, perfect closure, perfect anything, and given Parker's character and character arc, the ending was definitely the right ending for the book.(less)
I really like Maisey Yates's writing. She writes with gentle humour that never feels forced (never just for the sake of comedy) and always seems to co...moreI really like Maisey Yates's writing. She writes with gentle humour that never feels forced (never just for the sake of comedy) and always seems to come from the characters (but never in a mean-spirited way), and I think I really like that in a Presents/Modern read. It grounds the characters to the point where I can still enjoy the sweeping nature of their high-emotion, high-drama lives, but the humor gives them depth and a certain realism. I can care about them because they feel more realistic when I know they don't always take life 100% seriously. And I really like that her alpha heroes are strong men but never assholes. They have reasons for doing what they do, and it's not out of misogynistic entitlement or obvious insecurity (I think this is my problem with the stereotypical alphas; their arrogance, ill-treatment and dismissal of other people, overbearingness and ruthlessness all strike me as the mark of someone wildly insecure and not confident, which kinda makes the whole alpha thing hollow), so YAY for that, because her heroes rock. They seem like real men, the kind of person who'd be a good friend as well as a good romantic partner.
I probably wasn't the ideal reader for this specific book, however, because I just can't suspend my disbelief for sheikh novels. (Does religion exist in HP land? Does world history even exist in HP land? Answer: not really, and I'm still not able to suspend my disbelief over that.) But I'm really digging Yates's writing (worth going to the extra effort to buy her U.K. releases!), and I was willing to see how she'd write this, and I found the set-up (he falls in love with the woman long betrothed to his brother!) very compelling and was eager to find out how it resolved. Answer: happily!(less)
I caught Richard III fever last week. No shame here. Mostly, I've always liked the Shakespeare play (his character is an atrocious villain!), and Rich...moreI caught Richard III fever last week. No shame here. Mostly, I've always liked the Shakespeare play (his character is an atrocious villain!), and Richard III is one of my favorite characters on Horrible Histories (there's the time his ghost confronted Shakespeare and his own song, but his presence in the English kings and queens song cracks me up the most; every single other monarch is singing and dancing and having fun, and there's Richard III, alternately waving at the camera or mocking the song).
ANYWAY. I'd been meaning to read this book, and after the DNA confirmation news broke, I picked it up and didn't put it down until I was finished. As a lover of nifty structural tricks, I enjoyed how Tey sets up her book: her detective Grant is laid up in a hospital bed after a nasty fall, he doesn't leave his bed until the very end of the book, and he relies on limited resources to "solve" a mystery. And it's still an engaging read, mostly because Grant is so prickly and cantankerous and kind-of-mean, so his voice is strong and vivid enough to carry the narrative weight, and I thought it was a well-structured investigation and fun to read, the account of someone researching facts, deploying a thoughtful academic investigation, and analyzing the character and motivation of historical figures. I'm no historian myself, but I thought it was a fun demonstration of someone researching a theory about a historical event.
I did have the same frustrations I have with almost any fictional narrative that's making some kind of academic argument: I was annoyed not to have proper sources for the evidence used (a footnote, a footnote, my kingdom for a footnote!), so that I could evaluate them for myself. I was also frustrated by how long it took for Grant and his assistant to realize that they weren't the first people in all of history to doubt the Tudor-era account of Richard's alleged villainy, which made me doubt how well they were doing their research (and if Tey was manipulating the non-fictional evidence), if it took them so long to find all the other pro-Richard research that's been done in the past couple of centuries.
Given the way Grant's investigation is structured (he starts out knowing very little about Richard III except the obvious stories passed down), I think the book would still be accessible to readers who don't know much about Richard III but are interested in the controversy (and hearing a pro-Richard account).(less)
Intricate, immensely readable (I read it twice in under 24 hours), and interesting to analyze and think about, but I didn't find it particularly thoug...moreIntricate, immensely readable (I read it twice in under 24 hours), and interesting to analyze and think about, but I didn't find it particularly thoughtful or deep.
Reading the beginning right after reading the ending was what made my reading experience a good one, because it clarified the ambiguity, if that's not too much of a contradiction to say.
I wasn't frustrated with the ambiguity--I have my assumptions about what "really" happened, and I quite enjoyed the more unexpected theorizing I've read in reviews that I don't believe but are interesting to consider the ramifications and the evidence that supports the conclusions ((view spoiler)[that Sarah turned out to be Adrian's absent mother, that the woman Tony meets with in the second half of the book is actually the daughter of him and Veronica (hide spoiler)])--but I guess I don't really see the big deal of the philosophical parts of the book (I don't know, isn't the stuff about history and memory and time already well-covered in literature and everyday life?) and find the book more interesting for the story structure ramifications of that philosophy, the plot puzzles the story presents, even if the philosophical angle is the book's intended point.(less)
The premise for this is awesome, and it was enough to convince me to pick up a copy. A killer who can "read" the minds of his victims and who taunts t...moreThe premise for this is awesome, and it was enough to convince me to pick up a copy. A killer who can "read" the minds of his victims and who taunts them with that knowledge before murdering them? Interesting! Especially when this wasn't labeled as a paranormal thriller -- and it isn't a paranormal thriller.
The book, however, was a slow read in the first half: too much repetitive, introspective narrative and descriptions, not enough tension. The writing was pretty baffling at times. The chapters are short but some end far too abruptly; as soon as something out of the ordinary, disruptive, or confrontational happened, the chapter would end, and the novel would be on to some other new scene, whereas it would have been interesting to see the mild-mannered protagonist have to react to these disruptions and confrontations.
Once the book finally hits upon a crime and a criminal investigation, the story picks up, and the protagonist starts interacting with characters in more interesting ways. The plot is well-constructed from this point on, and I really enjoyed the scenes in which the investigators are trying to puzzle out what's happened and what's going to happen. Brainstorming alongside them was fun. It's an analytical novel, but I could also believe in the sparse emotional moments. The protagonist lives inside his head, not in his heart, and so his connections and relationships are portrayed as frustratingly shallow, but the ending at least points toward development in his relationships.
Think of a Number felt like the set-up for a series. The protagonist and his hobbies are complex, and there's certainly a lot of material to work with. I'd be interested in reading more from Verdon, but I hope that the writing, particularly the pacing, is tightened.(less)
Kit assumes she's doing her friend Jim a favor, throwing a cheerful dinner party to distract the distraught divorcé on the anniversary of his divorce....moreKit assumes she's doing her friend Jim a favor, throwing a cheerful dinner party to distract the distraught divorcé on the anniversary of his divorce. What could go wrong? In very little time, through the zinging pinball-y series of silly happenstances, the group of helpless socialites is quarantined (and stranded without their servants) due to the possibility of smallpox exposure, Kit is impersonating Jim's ex-wife and pretending to still be happily married in order to secure Jim's financial future, Jim's actual ex-wife is hiding in the basement and only Kit knows she's there, a very expensive piece of jewelry is stolen, and, oh yeah, there's a surprise policeman locked in the cellar.
I don't know how I ended up with this book. I think I might have been hunting for stuff-that-reminds-people-of-Wodehouse; Mary Roberts Rinehart was writing around the same time as he was, and she too wrote for Broadway. In fact, this book was a novelization of her play Seven Days, though I didn't learn that until after I finished. This is a fireworks display of a comic mystery, with lots of sparky (and usually fun) drama, good suspense, and some breathless farce. Sure, there's a lot of ridiculousness in it (remember, comic mystery!), but it was fun. Kit's vibrant and hilariously put-upon voice and narration was a large part of what kept me reading.
I wanted to hug the cranky old lady who was a vocal Suffragette, confident in the vote coming soon. This book was written in 1910, and even though I know Aunt Selina's fictional, I sure hope she lived long enough to benefit from the Nineteenth Amendment.
The racism in the book is bluntly overt and too frequent. It sucked to get knocked over the head with it every so often.(less)
A romance classic for a reason. I almost didn't want it to end.
Sugar Beth is an awesome character. She did horrible things and made terribly poor choi...moreA romance classic for a reason. I almost didn't want it to end.
Sugar Beth is an awesome character. She did horrible things and made terribly poor choices in her youth, and at the book's start, she's grown up a lot and is on the tail end of a redemption arc. Though her intention is a short and sweet homecoming (get in, get the painting her late aunt bequeathed her, and get out), life get complicated and she's forced to stay longer in a hometown where she is, very decidedly, not welcome. Despite Sugar Beth's Mean Girl past, she now carries herself with dignity and not a small amount of mature sass. Her attitude (fun to read, easy to respect and like) made her vulnerability stand out in sharp, raw relief, too. Colin was less interesting to me, but I didn't have too many problems with him. His actions were understandable, if not always good or moral high-ground decisions.
Winnie and Jeff's marriage troubles were quite engaging to me, and I loved how realistic their daughter was, but Winnie herself was not always easy for me to comprehend. I couldn't completely buy that she was ignorant of the reason why Sugar Beth hated her in their youth. As for the Sea Willows, I liked their friendship, but I was annoyed by the cliquey-group-ish-ness that accompanied it (though, yeah, I know, that's often a side effect of a strong group of friends). It left me with the impression that this was a way they treated people in general, not just Sugar Beth.
This book is self-conscious as a romance. Pointedly relevant Georgette Heyer quotes start each chapter, and the hero and heroine read and reference romance novels in general. I can see how this might annoy some readers, but I found that this added to the book's value for me. Colin inflicts a "punishing kiss" on Sugar Beth early in the book, and unlike the punishing kisses one might find in a old-school romance, it's clear that this kiss was intended to be every ounce as skeevy as it comes across.
It's not a perfect book. It did, however, suck me in completely, kept me thinking and feeling, and I loved the deservedly legendary Sugar Beth. Neither she nor Colin were perfect, either, and their flaws and their missteps and their past made their romance a very memorable one. This is the third SEP I've read and the one I've liked the best--I thought the heroes in the others were jerks, whereas Colin's jerkish behavior was at least understandable to an extent if not always justifiable, and his flaws seemed intentional, and I could see why he and Sugar Beth would fall in love and be good partners for each other. And that's just what I want in a romance.(less)
Enjoyable, but because I read this after so many other Kristan Higgins books, I kept feeling that certain scenes/tropes were better done in other, lat...moreEnjoyable, but because I read this after so many other Kristan Higgins books, I kept feeling that certain scenes/tropes were better done in other, later books (I'm sorry, but the turkey scene in All I Ever Wanted is untouchable hilarity, so the loose dog scene in this one only made me nostalgic for THAT book). The writing/chapter style of this one was frustrating for me, because chapters would end on ~BIG REVELATIONS~ or ~BIG CONSEQUENTIAL THING~ and then the next chapter would begin at a completely different point, and not being able to follow through emotions or revelations to their logical conclusions, that was frustrating. I kept feeling jerked around, and it left me with the impression that the plot was the opposite of seamless: the various events of the story were patched together and didn't flow organically.
However, this book does have a likeable heroine and a terrific declaration of love, and because this is Kristan Higgins, there was a lot to be amused and entertained by. (Here's one of the things I get out of reading Higgins: I can look at the ridiculous things that happen to the heroines and feel better about my own life and feel rather competent.) I also came to a slightly more comfortable interpretation of Higgins' reliance on quasi-incestuous relationships. I feel squicky enough pointing it out (heroines often getting together with brother-in-laws, ex-brother-in-laws, or brother figures), and though my favorite Higgins books are the ones that steer clear of that, this book is in the "heroine falls for a guy who is raised as something like a brother to her" vein. The heroine and the hero call the same set of parents mom and dad, so, um. Yeah. But the secondary romance in the book (the heroine's mother's search for a boyfriend) in contrast with the main romance helped to shed some light for me on Higgins' favorite trope. She's doing stuff with a "the love you start with isn't always enough, and it isn't always what you need, so just because it's some kind of love doesn't mean you have to be satisfied by it" theme. I think the trope's still pretty uncomfortable-making, but in this book, at least, it seemed relevant and purposeful.
Also, this book was too othering for my taste, and for me not to mention. Because, yeah, if the token non-white character (as in, the only character identified by their race) is always described, over and over, as doing a "Latin head wiggle" (o.m.g. what does that EVEN MEAN? at least she wasn't also called "sassy"), readers of color like myself might feel a bit alienated. And, while it's nice to know Higgins doesn't limit her depiction of gay characters to the role of stereotypical gay best friend (which happened in one of her other books) it's also pretty uncomfortable that (view spoiler)[the gay character in this book is the villain who does nonsensical things with little motivation, and even if they are the apparent villain, gets called faggot, and is basically just a plot pawn (hide spoiler)].
Summary: Higgins is a good writer, and this was enjoyable, but it was also pretty irritating in more than a couple ways.(less)
"It's disappointing," said Ragwort, "that the young man has not turned out to be a homicidal maniac. But it can't be helped."
So a few book reviews ago I was all "I don't like amateur detectives!" and now here I am, head-over-heels for a amateur detective mystery series.
In my defense, Thus Was Adonis Murdered is no ordinary cozy mystery. It's the first of four books featuring a set of young London barristers and their friend Professor Hilary Tamar, the busybody esteemed Oxford don who, over drinks and dinner and gossip, assists in their unintentionally-begotten crime-solving. In this installment, one member of their group, Julia, is accused of murder while traveling abroad, and it's primarily through her letters home that Hilary and the gang analyze the clues in order to prove Julia's innocence and identify the culprit.
One of the book's largest delights, for me, was the very arch, very stylized prose. I'm always on the hunt for Wodehouse-like writing, and Caudwell has a similar style of charmingly funny wordsmithery. The plot was intricate and well-developed. I wouldn't have thought I'd have liked the epistolary angle to the mystery, but it turned out to be another of the book's assets: we get Hilary's first-person POV and the comments of the peanut gallery the rest of Julia's friends in addition to Julia's first-person POV in the letters, and it's a structure that works really well.
From a gender, sex, and sexuality standpoint, this book was refreshingly awesome. Published in 1981, it was awesome about women, about women being awesome in their careers, about women liking sex, about women seeking sex, and about normalizing bisexuality. The last part was particularly awesome, when it was no big deal for characters to not be assuming binary sexualities in their thought processes, their actions, and their desires. And there was no angst or anger over this bisexuality, either. It was just part and parcel of any average romantic and sexual relationship.
I loved the characters dearly, each of them sharply drawn and recognizable in only a couple brushstrokes of description. Seeing the scatterbrained and passionate Julia through the eyes of her friends, and through her own letters, was pretty much comedy gold. I was nervous to start with that she'd be depicted solely as and objectified as the adorable ditz, but that wasn't a problem at all. Her friends clearly care for her despite her cluelessness frustrating them, and it's also clear what she brings to the group of friends despite being the legendarily ridiculous one in the group. And also, I'd probably happily read chapter upon chapter of Julia describing her plots to bed the object of her affection. As she writes to Selena, the other woman in their group of lawyers:
It is your view, as I understand it, that when dealing with young men one should make no admission, in the early stages, of the true nature of one's objectives but should instead profess a deep admiration for their fine souls and splendid intellects. One is not to be discouraged, if I have understood you correctly, by the fact that they may have neither. I reminded myself, therefore, that if I could get the lovely creature into conversation, I must make no comment on the excellence of his profile and complexion but should apply myself to showing a sympathetic interest in his hopes, dreams and aspirations.
Narratives about mental health have been on my mind lately, and I've had my eye out for stories that treat mental health with seriousness but aren't p...moreNarratives about mental health have been on my mind lately, and I've had my eye out for stories that treat mental health with seriousness but aren't primarily "issue" stories and that don't turn out to be "what beautiful angst!" sorts of treatment. The 10 PM Question was pretty much the epitome of this, where twelve-year-old Frankie's world is three-dimensional and fun to read, his voice and his perspective were vivid and so engaging to read, and the mental illnesses affecting him and his family are treated with realistic consideration and compassion, even as the silences around them create an orbit-tugging gravity. The book ends on a satisfying and positive note despite a lack of easy comfort on multiple issues.
Despite encountering lots of recommendations for this book, I avoided it for so long because the summaries always made it sound like it was a "Pixie Dream Girl" story, which I don't find appealing. I'm glad I read it despite my reservations, because while I can see how Sydney shakes up and changes Frankie's life, she doesn't exist for that primarily that function. It was the genuine, two-way friendship between her and Frankie that changed Frankie, not Sydney-as-a-plot-device. Neither Frankie nor the narrative objectified Sydney or treated her as a plot catalyst rather than a full, imperfect human being. So I hadn't anything to worry about, despite the surface similarities to a PDG story.
The structure of this book was sometimes frustrating, skipping around scenes I wanted to read and that I didn't understand why they weren't included, but some of the scenes that were included were so wonderful, I wasn't too disappointed: the story felt complete.(less)
Final book of the series! I may have shed a tear or two. (Okay, I actually had to put the book down to get a tissue. I was expecting that particular e...moreFinal book of the series! I may have shed a tear or two. (Okay, I actually had to put the book down to get a tissue. I was expecting that particular event was coming, but I wasn't ready for it.) I may have cheered out loud for Faythe. And I finished the book satisfied (though still feeling like I would happily read more!). This book didn't just complete the series; it contextualized what Faythe and her family and her allies and her enemies have gone through for six books. Not only was it clear how much Faythe had grown, it was clear that she had earned all her character development, through mistakes and missteps and growing self-awareness.
I have mixed feelings about this series overall; the first book was quite awful, and the second book was barely better than that. I wouldn't blame anyone for refusing to read very far. And while it's definitely a "girls kick ass" sort of series, I still found it problematic when it came to gender and race. And yet. And yet I fell for Faythe and her desire to claim autonomy over her life (no small feat in the misogynistic werecat society in which she lives), for herself and for the other women she loved. Men make up the majority of characters in this series, they hold most of the power, but over and over, Faythe's relationships with the other women characters (and the various ways they creatively claimed power of their own) proved the most interesting for me. Her unexpected nurturing, kind side, brought out with Abby and Kaci particularly, always struck me as a sign of how awesome of an alpha she'd eventually be, even if Faythe herself would never see it that way.
My major annoyance with this book was the "omg Faythe YOU MUST CHOOSE ONE LOVER for the good of us all" aspect. I understand, it was technically important to the pride and all, but man, it just got laughable at points, how it mattered to everyone else who was in Faythe's bed. (Faythe, of course, would agree with that!) My minor annoyances were that it went by too fast and that I couldn't remember if Manx ever even got a speaking line. I love Manx and I'm still angry about the punishment she suffered.(less)
Here's what I wish someone would have told me before I started this book: DON'T WORRY, the title's reference to love does not refer to the first relat...moreHere's what I wish someone would have told me before I started this book: DON'T WORRY, the title's reference to love does not refer to the first relationship introduced in the book, Elias Cole's obsessive, possessive stalking of the happily married Saffia Kamara. Even if Elias was deluded enough to conceptualize his actions and feelings as love, the narrative makes it clear that it wasn't love. By the end of the book, the title was quite fitting, just in unexpected ways.
Other things that might be good to know, for those embarking on a read of this book: 1) Yes, it's slow. Excruciatingly slow and full of details that flesh out the world but don't seem to move the story forward. Any actual revelations and plot development take time, and yeah, I found that frustrating. 2) Yes, it skips around in time and place, and the author too often withheld important information about what happened until later on, and I didn't like that. Cheap writing trick, jerking readers around with that! 3) Yes, it's complicated. One of the central characters, Adrian Lockheart, is a white British psychologist who journeys to Sierra Leone ostensibly to help its citizens, and the book examines and critiques that role (I'm often disappointed by how few stories of this type don't critique that!), all while depicting Adrian with complexity and humanity. The author does a great job with infusing all her characters, even the cowardly and manipulative Elias Cole, with that sort of depth, baring their flaws and their flawed assumptions and their wounded places, but never letting them be either solely their worst self, or solely their best self. The characters didn't go easy on each other, either, and I really appreciated that. The author wasn't coddling her characters, and they felt all the more real because of that.
Kai Mansaray, the third main character, was my favorite: a talented surgeon, a native of Sierra Leone, and a man whose nightmares keep him from sleeping. His story took the longest to unfold, and I basically spent most of the book waiting for the chapters that followed him.
There was a lot that was predictable to the book, and like I said, it was tough going when the early chapters were either awful (Elias stalking Saffia) or dull. It was also disappointing to not have any chapters from the viewpoint of any of the women in the book, who were all interesting and three-dimensional despite the lack of viewpoints. However, there was a lot to think about in this book, and I was especially engaged in one of the central themes the story wrestled with: a kind of Venn diagram, with "memories" as one circle and "dreams" as the other. Well, dreams and/or nightmares. All in all, I'm glad I pushed past the early chapters, because it was a rewarding read in the end.
Note: I received a review copy of this book for free from the publisher via the First Reads program here at Goodreads.(less)
I read this book first. Yes, the fifth book in the series. IN MY DEFENSE, I bought the ebook bundle and for some reason, this is the first book in sai...moreI read this book first. Yes, the fifth book in the series. IN MY DEFENSE, I bought the ebook bundle and for some reason, this is the first book in said bundle (of books 3, 4, and 5 in the series), and there's no indication in the bundle that this is, you know, the one that should be read AFTER the others, and I was charmed enough by the prologue (three women--one an insane queen, one a girl squire, and one a hungover dragon--sneak off on a secret suicide mission and armed with a sense of humor? I AM SO THERE) and the first chapters, without knowing fully who all the characters were, that I kept reading until I realized that world-building this complicated and so many couples already together proooobably indicated that this isn't the first book of the series.
And by then, I wanted to keep reading. So I did.
I did have to keep a list of names/mates/locations/etc., and at the book's end, with all sorts of closure happening all over the place, I got pretty confused and the emotional resonance sometimes went over my head, I'm sure, but other than that, I didn't mind being thrown right into the fire. I probably wouldn't recommend purposely reading this book first, though. :/
So, yes: very funny, lots of aggression and violence, and women who unapologetically kick ass in a myriad of ways. Basically everything I've heard about Aiken/Laurenston's books, but MORE. I had lots of ~reactions~ (gasping, crying out, "oh no!" and, of course, laughing), and it was really fun to read a book that took itself seriously enough to be quality but didn't take itself so seriously that there was no joy to be had by the characters (or by me). I know I would have enjoyed it more had I not read it first, but I get to come back to this one later, and enjoy it even more!
And I considered looping back to the first book in the series, but I really want to read Gwenvael and Dagmar's story NOW NOW NOW, so it's off to book 3 for me.(less)
All right, I can die happy now that I've finally read Persuasion and experienced the sublime perfection of that second-to-last chapter. I don't know w...moreAll right, I can die happy now that I've finally read Persuasion and experienced the sublime perfection of that second-to-last chapter. I don't know what I could say that would add to the conversation about this book, only that everything I've heard about The Letter secondhand was true, and even better (and more) than I expected. I keep deleting keysmashes from my review, because that's about as eloquent as I can get to respond to the romantic aspect of the last part of the book. BUT beyond that: Persuasion is smart and sharp and funny, and it's deceptively deep and so thoughtful, Anne is the exactly right character to protagonize (is too a word) the story at hand, and asdkfjkladsfj THE LETTER.(less)
A sweet and perfectly-sized short story: the writing style was clean and confident, and the pacing was solid. I enjoyed how likeable the characters we...moreA sweet and perfectly-sized short story: the writing style was clean and confident, and the pacing was solid. I enjoyed how likeable the characters were, and in particular how considerate Laurie was. Even considering the constraints of the length of the story, however, I didn't find the characters developed deeply enough for my taste. Jonah's immaturity (even separate from his inexperience) wasn't very interesting to me, either, and he often came across as even younger than eighteen, which I especially wasn't really interested in reading. It was a sweet story and well-told, though, so I'd happily try full-length stories from this author in the future.(less)
This is a tautly written, anxious, suspenseful story about the feeling of powerlessness and what we do with our guilt. While the momentary reveal of a...moreThis is a tautly written, anxious, suspenseful story about the feeling of powerlessness and what we do with our guilt. While the momentary reveal of a concealed gun is scary, the real weapon in this novel is truth. There's rarely anything as deeply frightening as the truth, which is why the story's protagonist, Glen, struggles so much with it throughout the book.
I don't like driving very much, and so I could relate with Glen and his introduction: he spends too much time driving, and the carelessness of other drivers wears him down. He and his wife, Liz, had been in a car accident before, when she was seven months pregnant with their daughter Sara, and now that his daughter is in elementary school, he has little tolerance for the thoughtless strangers who put her life in danger.
One very bad driving day--a cop breaks traffic laws and then is dismissive of Glen for following them, Glen and his daughter are threatened by a bystander, and a reckless driver careens in the streets around Glen's own neighborhood--turns into a particularly tragic one when Glen makes the split-second decision to teach that last driver a lesson. An accident results, and Glen and Sara are the only witnesses. In the course of choosing what to tell the police and doing his best to protect his daughter, Glen's own life and relationships begin skidding off course.
Will Allison's prose is very taut and straight-forward, giving Glen's first-person narrative a very realistic feel. Glen was not always easy to relate to (the anger issues and his stalking of the man who threatened him with a gun, in particular, felt pretty foreign to me at times), but as he explained his choices and his emotions and his own realizations, I was for the most part able to follow him emotionally. I read this book in nearly one sitting, wanting to know what happens and how Glen could repair his relationships if he had such a difficult time wrestling with truth and guilt.
Note: I received a review copy from the publisher through the First Reads program here at Goodreads.(less)
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