Alison
I'm disappointed that I didn't like this book more than I did. The premise sounded amazing; a library between life and death where you can see infinite variations of how your life might have played out. Sadly, I feel the execution didn't live up to the idea's promise. There's so much possibility there for exploring depth and meaning, and what was presented instead feels like a shallow skim across the surface. The rom-com version of the meaning of life - it reminded me a lot of the movie ‘Sliding Doors'.
Nora wasn't a particularly likeable character, but neither was she a believable one. She suffered a bit too much from Mary-Sue syndrome for my tastes (she's super intelligent! She's an amazing songwriter and musician! She's a naturally talented athlete!), and somehow still managed to seem very... cardboard.
I breezed through this book fairly quickly, and it was a light, easy read, but not one that I'll revisit. A solid ‘it was OK' book for me.
Spending any significant amount of time as a Fantasy reader makes it difficult to stumble across anything that seems completely fresh and new. Doubly so for something that's also well-written and engaging. The Bone Shard Daughter is one of those rare unicorns that manages to achieve both.
Everything from the magic system to the history and geography of the world is just different enough to seem unique and fully-formed, without falling into the trap of weird-for-the-sake-of-different (I'm looking at you, every book with bog-standard characters named Xai'teth'lana). Lin is a fantastic character, a strong girl with a purpose and a plan, and the courage to try make it happen. The other characters didn't resonate as strongly as she did, but given that she's the eponymous hero, that's a minor quibble.
I'm very much looking forward to book two. There were enough questions left open (and new ones raised) by the ending that I can't wait to dive back into Lin's world.
I often describe the Dresden Files series to those who haven't read them as “a popcorn action movie in book form”. I don't that has ever been more accurate than with Battle Ground.
I struggled with Peace Talks because it felt like it was all setup. I struggled a little with Battle Ground because it felt like one long action sequence a lot of the time. We also didn't get resolution to a lot of the questions that Jim Butcher has been teasing with increasing frequency (“stars and stones!”).
I always enjoy spending time with Harry Blackstone Copperfield Dresden, but I'm hoping that next time we meet I might actually find out a bit more about who that man has actually been this whole time.
Hooray, more Koli!
I fell head over heels in love with this world in the first book, and this book slowly unfolded more of its mysteries. It suffered a little from the middle book / endless journey syndrome, but the author did a fantastic job of balancing that by giving us new insight through the eyes of other characters. I can't wait to find out what happens in book three.
I find it difficult to rate and review books that aren't fiction, because I feel as though I'm supposed to be comparing against sort of objective measure. Which, obviously, doesn't exist.
I'm not going to even attempt to touch the ‘worthiness' of this contribution to feminism, or whether there's anything groundbreaking inside these pages. My (purely subjective and personal) thoughts on Women Don't Owe You Pretty: I found this a worthwhile read, because it acted as a jumping off point for my own internal reflections on the subject. There were times where I felt that the tone and ideas presented were too aggressive, too confrontational, and far too idealistic, and I suspect that's to do with the age difference between the author/intended audience and myself.
Definitely some interesting concepts in here, and something I'd give to my own daughters to read (when they're old enough) and have some conversations about the content, but I wouldn't wholesale swallow all of the ideas presented without some critical thinking.
The Survivors is a decently written Australian crime novel, which I feel is damning it with faint praise. Most of Jane Harper's earlier novels blew me away with their incredible writing, where the Australian landscape became a living, breathing part of the novel, and characters were so real that they could walk off the page. The Survivors doesn't reach those heights, but is still a solid, well-plotted mystery, and well worth a read for anyone who enjoys crime fiction outside the mystery-by-numbers style of police procedurals.
While I'll cheerfully admit to being a Moore fan from way back, Shakespeare for Squirrels more than earns an unbiased five stars. There aren't many books that can make me literally laugh out loud, especially in the hideous black hole of suck that is 2020, but this one managed it on multiple occasions. Witty, irreverent, sly, and fabulous, with a good dash of Shakespeare and more than a few “Fuckstockings!” to top it off. A fun and funny read.
Maestro was pressed insistently on me by a good friend, and although not something I would have picked up for myself, the promise of music winding through the plot alongside gorgeous prose was enough for me to give it a shot.
I'm very glad I did. This book is beautiful. It's confronting at times, and the main character's teenage coming-of-age trials can be grating. Yet something in it still spoke to me. Maybe it's the timeframe in which I read it; a little over a month after my husband's death, the themes of missed chances, what-ifs, and regret at what could have been were always going to ring especially true.
One worth rereading and savoring again for the writing alone.
According to rumour, Peace Talks and Battle Ground were originally one book, but it became so unwieldy that it needed to be split into two. It shows. While it was great to be back with Harry, seeing the tension ratchet up as years' worth of lore and story arcs slowly start to converge, there wasn't enough resolution in this book to avoid feeling dissatisfied by the ending. It's all setup; hopefully when Battle Ground is released it's nothing but payoff, and the two together can be one fantastic whole.
I never thought that I'd enjoy a book whose main plot revolves heavily around a pink dolphin vibrator, but here we are. This biting satire has shades of Douglas Adams, Terry Pratchett, Kurt Vonnegut, and Black Mirror, with humour often sharp enough to cut, and parallels to our own society that are recognisable enough to be more than a little terrifying. Highly recommended for people who like their humour dark and sometimes disturbing.
As always, Jim Butcher manages to deliver a fantastic cocktail of action, pop references and sharply sarcastic dialogue while continuing to expand and deepen the mythology of his Dresden Files universe. It was great to find out more about Harry's world and the various beings and factions that inhabit it, even if - as expected by now - we are left with more questions than answers...
I thoroughly enjoyed another visit with Harry & Co. Hopefully it won't be too long before we get the next instalment of Harry's collection of oh-shit-I'm-about-to-die moments.
I will admit up front that my lack of enjoyment of this book was based on my expectations after reading the blurb.
What I expected: lighthearted humorous supernatural / urban fantasy, like Desperate Housewives with vampires.
What I actually got: gory full-fledged horror novel that happened to use a vampire as a plot device.
Definitely not my cup of tea.
This could have been a solid three star book except that it's clearly a YA book wrapped in a thin adult fiction veneer.
Don't get me wrong. I enjoy me some good YA. But that's because a good YA book is internally consistent; the characters, their actions, their motivations, all make sense in the context of them being, you know, kids.
House of Earth and Blood had an interesting setup, a world that I was keen to explore, and just enough mystery. Where it really let itself down, and where the author's YA background really leaked through, was in the main characters and their romance. The way it was written was very much the usual YA angsty teen experience, but with bucketloads of (unnecessarily pornographic) explicit sex thrown in. It was as if Maas suddenly remembered that she was writing an ‘adult' book so could use Naughty Words. It had the same off-putting vibe as little girl dressing up in her mother's clothes, slathering on makeup, and declaring herself a grown-up. The endless use of ‘male' and ‘female' instead of woman/man/whatever was also just... odd. Jarringly out of place.
Endless hard cocks and dripping wet panties aside, it was ok. I'll check out the second book when it's released, and hope that Maas calms down a bit next time around.
It's hard to take a book on its own merits when it's surrounded by a cloud of hype. I knew that going in, and yet, even wary, found myself underwhelmed.
While recognising that it was well-written, the complete lack of investment in the characters or their problems made this a difficult book to see through to the end. There was a slight lift in interest level toward the end when we were given an opposing narrative to fit in to events as described by the main character, yet it wasn't enough to overcome the frustration of slogging through a heap of wealthy middle-aged white guy whining.
Technically great, and I can understand why it's receiving such great word of mouth, but absolutely not my cup of tea.
Seanan McGuire has an incredible ability to capture the feeling of being lost in a beautiful dream. Each Wayward Children book is full of lush, almost ethereal prose; gorgeous descriptions wrapped around surreal situations. Across the Green Grass Fields is no exception. I loved this book for the same reason I loved all the others in this series; it's the literary equivalent of a long, hot bath with a glass of wine, or a slice of rich chocolate cake. Delicious, utterly decadent, and worth getting lost in.
I'm always a sucker for a good world-behind-the-world story. Hidden magical world, secret societies, outsider thrust into a world of privilege, ghosts, mystery, haunted pasts, scrappy heroine.
Yes please. More please! Enjoyed every minute of this and was left wanting more. The characters are (achingly) real, the plot is engaging, the world is solidly developed and draws you in to its reality.
I'll be grabbing the next book in this series as soon as it's released.
One of those near-misses for me; file solidly under I-really-wanted-to-like-it-more.
On reflection, I think it was the oldest Willa that really bogged this down for me. I understand the reasons why she was written as she was, but I feel there was some nuance missing there. Instead of a woman struggling with memory and history and the unknown, we got what felt like the retiree version of manic pixie dream girl. A little too much whimsy, and not quite enough depth. The contrast between tone in early- and middle-Willa to elderly Willa was a little too jarring, and left the book as a whole feeling slightly inconsistent.
For a book whose blurb contains “On one impossible day in 1965, eight-year-old Willa receives a mysterious box containing a jar of water and the instruction: ‘One ocean: plant in the backyard”, the surreal parts of this book seem almost an afterthought, as if the author was embarrassed to have based a book's plot solidly around a fantasy element.
It would be an interesting book club read as it would definitely generate discussion, but I wouldn't be in a hurry to recommend it to many individual readers. Solid three stars; good, but not great. I'll be interested to see what the author does in the future.