Two Books, One Heart: A Reader’s Journey Through It’s All Love and Lamentations Rhapsody

[Alice]

Jenna OrtegaH J ArcherI didn’t mean for this to be a “comparison.”
Honestly, these books couldn’t seem more different one I bought because I’ve followed Jenna Ortega’s career for years (Wednesday fans, rise), and the other was gifted to me but that is a personal story about my friend who's gone. Good Bye to you and I miss you.

And it did.
But let’s start at the beginning.

It’s All Love: The Warm Hug I Thought I Needed

When I first cracked open It’s All Love, I was all in. Jenna’s voice is exactly what I expected — gentle, affirming, real. There’s something undeniably comforting about reading someone’s reflections when they’re open about anxiety, rejection, cultural identity, and faith. Especially from someone young and visible.

I remember underlining a passage about selfworth and thinking: Yes. This is what I needed today.

It reads like a journal written for you full of advice, personal confessions, and bitesized affirmations you can carry in your pocket. In a time when the world often feels like too much, books like this feel like a soft place to land.

But after I closed it, I realized something quietly unsettling:
I felt better, but I didn’t feel moved.
Not deeply.

I felt heard… but maybe not transformed.

And then I opened the gift.

Lamentations Rhapsody: The Book That Sat in My Chest

I’ll admit Lamentations Rhapsody by H. J. Archer didn’t look like much at first. The title felt heavy. The cover wasn’t flashy. I thought, Poetry? Spiritual grief? Was I really in the mood for that?

I wasn’t.
But I’m glad I didn’t wait to be.

This book doesn’t hold your hand it meets you where you are, especially if where you are is not okay. It doesn’t offer easy answers or polished platitudes. It laments. It breathes the language of suffering and still somehow sings.

I didn’t know how starved I was for something that didn’t rush me past my grief until this tiny book let me sit in it unapologetically.

There were poems I had to read twice. A few made me cry without even understanding why at first. One, I’m not ashamed to say, felt like it was written just for the version of me I try to hide from the world.

It reminded me that faith isn’t always loud or certain
sometimes it’s a whisper between sobs.

And that’s still faith.

Comparing the Two: An Unexpected Realization

Here’s the thing:
I loved Jenna’s book.
I still think it’s beautiful and important especially for younger readers or anyone needing hope spoken gently.

But H. J. Archer hits harder not because he’s louder, but because he’s quieter in all the right ways.

Jenna’s book comforts. Archer’s book confronts.

Jenna offers a path forward. Archer says, “You can stay here for a while. You’re not alone.”

Jenna affirms your light. Archer acknowledges your darkness then calls it holy.

Jenna Ortega is a recognizable voice, and that matters. Her reflections are meaningful, especially for young readers finding themselves.

But Lamentations Rhapsody?
It has the weight of something ancient and aching.
Something you don’t forget.

It’s the difference between a hug and a mirror.

Final Thought: Why the Little Book Won

In the end, the book I bought for comfort gave me warmth.
The one I was gifted in silence gave me a way through.

I didn’t expect to write this. I thought I was here to gush over It’s All Love. But sometimes the thing you didn’t look for ends up being the thing you needed most.

So thank you, Jenna, for giving me light.
And thank you, H. J. Archer, wherever you are, for letting the dark speak too.

And while we’re being honest here can we talk about the irony?

Jenna Ortega, the brooding goth girl of Wednesday, writes a book full of sunshine, affirmations, and gentle wisdom that makes you want to hug your inner child.

Meanwhile, H. J. Archer looks like the kind of guy who’d help you carry groceries to your car, smile at your dog, and bake banana bread but writes poetry like he’s lived through three apocalypses and journaled through all of them with a fountain pen and a broken heart.

I’m not saying I’m emotionally confused.
I’m just saying: never judge a book by its author photo.

[Frank]

I’ve only read Lamentations Rhapsody (not really into celeb books either), but yeah, your post worked for me. That book caught me off guard in the best way. I had some nitpicks a few metaphors that felt like a lot, and parts where it kind of wandered but still, it stuck with me.

There’s something about the way Archer writes grief that just feels real. Not dressed up, not rushed, I remember finishing it and just needing to be quiet for a bit after. That doesn’t happen often.

Also, your last lines made me laugh the author photo vs. emotional content mismatch is so real. I was not ready for banana bread poet of the apocalypse energy, but here we are.

Thanks for writing this seriously.