Kevin Lau
Get Out is undoubtedly a 5/5 film with a 5/5 screenplay, but I'm knocking half a star off due to the presentation here. I would imagine that the main reason someone would pick up a screenplay book like this, which includes annotations by Jordan Peele explaining his writing decisions, is to learn how a script is written. This book commits a disservice to those readers by changing the screenplay format into a theatre script. Maybe it's due to making it easier to format (there's stills from the movie integrated throughout the book), or maybe it's simplifying the presentation for readers who would find it too challenging to read a properly formatted script, but I think it hurts both the lifespan and novelty of the book. If someone wants to learn how to write a screenplay from this book, they're not going to learn anything substantial here if it's the first script they've read.
That said, the actual content of the book is fantastic. Not only for the aforementioned annotations making economical use of its small space, but Tananarive Due's essay opening the book does an amazing job setting the tone of why Get Out is important enough to be printed and held in your hands. It's great memorabilia if you love the film and a great read if you're an intermediate writer. For novice writers, I would look for a PDF of the actual script.
It's been a while, but I'm back on the wagon (reading The Dresden Files). I was halfway through when I realized I already read this entry but, hey, never hurts to have a refresher before diving into unexplored territory. Though this is one of the weaker entries, it's still fun and loose for the reasons why I loved the series in the first place. It's popcorn entertainment that still has compelling emotional beats and introspection, my kind of brainrot.
A really good epistolary novel that gets a bit frustrating at times for not trusting the reader enough to grasp subtext. There's a small, but prominent, subplot regarding unsent letters that feels like it's cheating the narrative to explain things that can already be understood through the sent letters, creating a sense of mystery and tension that ends up being both predictable and softens the blow of the ending. Other than that, though, it's a decent read!
A high-concept sci-fi drama that spirals into surrealism. Can't recommend it enough to those who want something simultaneously emotionally gripping and philosophical while keeping you on the edge of your seat while the protagonist spirals into madness under the pressure of looming death and what it means to those around him.
10/10 ideas pulled back by 7/10 execution.
There's no real narrative thrust to keep readers engaged outside of the story's prescience. Every character is flat, never reaching the status of an archetype or the ideologies to be allegorical avatars, and the plot is constructed in a “this happens then this happens” fashion instead of finding creative ways to weave consequences and reactions between the characters and the setting. It's a story about how important it is to be critical thinkers and put thought into the media we engage with, but I think this would appeal to passive readers more than active ones.
Still a must-read simply for, again, its ideas. Bradbury saw the self-infliction people were committing to anti-intellectualism and how a government can be formed around that. Bradbury essentially predicts TikTok, movies/shows being all about what the situation is and not how a situation feels, and citizens living fast-paced lives so they don't have time to stop and think for themselves.
I'd be hard-pressed to recommend this to reluctant readers, though, as none of the ideas really hold any emotional weight.
DNF at 81%
Commits a cardinal sin of not starting its story until the midpoint. Even then, I didn't find any of the ideas it was engaging with interesting and everything I felt was interesting was either glossed over or left incomplete.
It's a meandering story with good, generic prose, each chapter giving a ton of unnecessary set-up then presenting half a scene. Strange, unmotivated presentation of timeline all for a simple premise that will lead to a predictable conclusion.
A compelling pre-Spider-Verse Miles Morales novel with a sub-plot that makes you think, “I guess that was technically a Spider-Man story.” Noting this is written before the release of Into the Spider-Verse is important because Miles's character/personality was always in flux before that movie, Jason Reynolds's interpretation probably being the most grounded version Miles, even compared to the comic by Brian Michael Bendis.
Jason Reynolds makes Miles's life real and immersive. There's familial struggles, an atmosphere to Brooklyn, and school troubles ripe for even a non-superhero young adult novel to get teens thinking more critically about systemic bigotry. Every moment is intriguing, except for the Spider-Man parts which, thankfully, are only two scenes.
Not sure why the Spider-Man parts are so muted. Maybe Reynolds knows writing action isn't his strong suit? Or maybe there was a push by an editor to make this as canon as possible to the comics, which ultimately doesn't matter since Miles got bumped into the main Marvel universe a year before this book hit shelves. Either way, the two Spider-Man scenes are the roughest parts here and the second of which is morally muddled with no real follow-up.
But I digress, because Miles Morales: Spider-Man is still a great YA novel and sits comfortably by Jim Butcher's The Darkest Hours as one of the best Spider-Man novels.
I have never been so engaged learning about the history of a building.
Keir Graff, known for writing fiction for both children and adults, uses his storytelling skills to paint a wonderful picture about what Chicago's Fine Arts Building means to him, his fellow tenants, and art community as a whole. Filled to the brim with photos and archive images, Graff's love and interest in the building's history shine through as he weaves multiple narratives of how it all came to be, what it has endured, and where it stands now.
And if you're a reluctant reader, this book is less than 200 pages with lots of pictures! If you're an avid reader, you'll find Graff's prose to be elegant, occasionally humorous, and inspiring.
It's as close as you can get to getting a personal tour of the building without actually being there yourself. I'll have to make a trip out there myself one day, and maybe the Book Launch Event with the author is the perfect excuse!
Week after week, two guys talking to each other who took the movies seriously, and loved them, and were sometimes thrilled and sometimes disappointed by them, and tried to say why. The underlying assumption is that movies are not simply an entertainment product to be hyped, but an experience that must be evaluated, lest we become merely passive consumers of escapism.
It's an odd time to be a cinephile. Even odder to be a critic or filmmaker.
There's an aura of anti-intellectualism some audiences push back onto critics, and there are a pool of self-proclaimed critics that promote it as well. There's an overhanging question that occasionally gets asked, with more support than I'm comfortable with seeing, about if film critics are even needed anymore. After all, aren't movies and works of fiction supposed to just be for entertainment? Why are film critics so snobby about movies? Why can't they just judge a movie of how much fun we're going to have? It's not that deep, bro.
Matt Singer's Opposable Thumbs is the best rebuttal to this wave of spreading ignorance of what a film critic actually does and how they help shape culture and understanding of the world around us. By covering the biographies of Roger Ebert and Gene Siskel and the history of their show “At the Movies”, Matt Singer showcases how these two critics who absolutely despised each other played a tremendous role in a massive turning point in film history. It was a show both incredibly insightful for film fanatics, as well as so entertaining that even people with no real interest in movies tuned in to see what argument these two prolific, award-winning writers would get into.
At under 300 pages (less then 10 hours in audiobook, read by the author), Opposable Thumbs is a delight for those familiar with the material as well as an extremely comprehensive introduction for those who aren't aware film critics even exist, all told by Matt Singer, one of my favorite critics working today and of which I had the honor to interview at Ebertfest last year. (Thanks for signing my copy, Matt!) Singer's knowledge of film criticism, as well as his obsession with Roger Ebert and Gene Siskel, whose work inspired Singer to become a critic himself, creates a prose and pace that makes it difficult to not feel just as enthused as the author when reading Opposable Thumbs. It's a work of non-fiction more than willing to get you emotionally invested in each moment, punching up its humor and giving you time to wallow and process in the lower moments of its documented history.
I say this is best rebuttal to the current landscape of film criticism, but do any reactionary “critics” who only watch the movies they've seen advertisements for actually read? Is the person who thinks there's a specific checklist for fiction to follow based on high school English willing to be open to the idea they might be wrong? Lord knows the manosphere grifters don't read.
Either way, much like the movies Roger and Gene loved and championed, a book like this doesn't have a fighting chance if I don't review it.
Luffy vs Usopp gets 5 stars, as well as the twist this omnibus ends on. The Luffy vs Usopp chapter is not only the best choreographed fight in One Piece, also not only the best paneling in One Piece so far, but also contains the strongest dramatic conflict, character growth, and stakes of any scene so far.
Overall, Water Seven is definitely a step up from Skypeia once you get past the Davy Back tournament. Lots of interesting world building, mystery, and espionage to enjoy.
It accomplishes what it sets out for until it abruptly ends, and what it sets out for wasn't much to begin with. If it was still in print and less of a collector's piece, it could be solid for reluctant middle school readers, and part of me wishes this Super Thriller line was still going. Every demographic deserves an ongoing series of trashy novels.
The ending honestly reads like the assigned word count was met and suddenly had no interest in tying up the few loose ends or ending on a high note. Extremely weird.
Tress of the Emerald Sea is to Brandon Sanderson as The Eyes of the Dragon is to Stephen King. They're good in their own right, aiming for a touch of whimsy that aren't present in most of their work, but the lighter tone shows the authors' weaknesses to their more familiar readers. In this case, Sanderson's plain prose is a detriment, unable to paint a picture the way it really wants to. Still, the world, characters, and plot is solid.
A fast, addicting domestic thriller involving three complete separate women falling for the ruses of the same man.
The Three Mrs. Wrights fully commits to the page-turning tension of the reader knowing that it's just a matter of when, not if, this Jonathan Wright guy's secrets will begin to spiral and explode. Each of the three protagonists have a distinct voice, even in third-person, as well as each storyline being equally engaging. Though I can see an argument being made on Lark or Jessica being fan favorite characters, Holly's story was the one that really ground the story by taking the direct brunt of Jonathan's manipulative tactics. It's clear the writers did their research not just what people like Jonathan can make other people feel, but how they do it as well.
Linda and Keir have crafted something special here, a real diamond in the rough you would imagine surrounds this book based on the cover and description. Can't recommend it enough to anyone wanting a quick, breezy read that still has something meaningful to say.
Overcoming the first 100 chapters of One Piece feels like entering the Grand Line!
Really digging this series so far. Like I mentioned in my review of the first omnibus, the strongest aspects of the series are its characters and how empathetically in-tuned Oda is as he writes and draws the stories of a plethora of characters. The weakest aspects, which unfortunately exist, are the action sequences when focusing on a tumultuous battle, which tend to feel drawn out and occasionally repetitive, and the artwork, to a lesser extent. There are just some panels where I have no idea what I'm looking at...
I would imagine the weaknesses get squashed as the series continues with either new editors or more art assistants as the series grows. As for now, those are my qualms, but I'm still rooting for Luffy and his crew to find the one piece and looking forward to how that develops!
My One Piece adventure begins!
And I'd say it's off to a solid start. Though it's a little clunky at first introducing everything, even feeling like it's missing visual beats here and there, there's a strong sense of character, tone, and seeds for future payoffs. Similar to its main character, Luffy, the manga only takes itself as seriously as it needs to, but its grasp of empathy keeps things grounded and engaging.
This sounds paradoxical for a self-help book, but I think this was a significantly more helpful read after I've already implemented the advice and repackaged philosophy to my life for a while. Ultimately this is a book encouraging you to figure out what your values are and learning to prioritize them, and that not knowing what your values are or having harmful values can lead to other problems such as insecurity, which leads to a sense of entitlement, which leads to a vicious cycle of never being happy. The concepts discussed were already things I knew in an abstract sense through my own process of self-improvement, but reading this book helps me put all these concepts into words.
I think this is something that could benefit from a 2nd edition. There's a handful of outdated and poor-tasting jokes regarding transphobia and a slightly misogynist-skewed perspective that I think holds it back from reaching an even wider audience. I've recently been watching Mark Manson's YouTube channel, which lead me to read this book, and none of that is present in his more recent material. There's definitely a good wealth of information here presented in voice that could come off as an obtrusive rude awakening, but an awakening nonetheless.
Of course, like I mentioned, I think I got more out of this after the fact that I've incorporated everything written here in my own life. If I had read this in high school, I'm sure it would have helped some, but values are extremely subjective. There's not exactly a right way to figure out what your values are, but there are definitive wrong ways to go about it, and that's something you just have to figure out by putting yourself out there, meeting people, not trying to be the most interesting person in the room, discover hobbies, etc. In short, this book is best read when you're already intrinsically motivated and taking action to improve your lifestyle, not looking for a jumpstart or external validation to hopefully feel motivated in the first place.
I would definitely hesitate calling Long Chills and Case Dough a good novella, but it's definitely a great reading experience when taking in the context surrounding it.
Brandon Sanderson has had a big year in 2023, bringing to fruition the rewards of his kickstarter with four special edition novels secretly written during quarantine and swag for his fans. For the last bit, an epilogue of sorts for The Year of Sanderson, this novella makes a surprise debut. It's independently published by his company, Dragonsteel, under the imprint Sanderson Curiosities. Essentially, this new line of work will be stuff Sanderson had written that he felt was never up to snuff to be traditionally published. Though the hardcover is $12 plus shipping, the ebook is provided on his website for free.
Again, I would be hard pressed to call this good. The world is well realized but introduced to the reader in a way that's hard to follow. The characters feel more like pawns to the aesthetic instead of a truly character driven story like Sanderson's other work. The story is very thin, even for a novella, and it feels like it would crack under the slightest pressure of scrutiny. That said, it only took an hour for me to read, and I'm a slow reader.
What makes this a great reading experience, for me at least, is because as an aspiring author whose work is partially inspired by Brandon Sanderson, it's motivating to know that even one of my favorite authors wrote clunkers when he started out. No matter the artistic medium, there's a mindset newcomers need to have about how behind every great piece you witness, there's at least a dozen terrible pieces that you will never know about where the artist used their failure to make the next thing just a little bit better. With all due respect to Sanderson, this is one of the failures, and I'm glad he could share it with us.
Pretty neat companion to the Alan Wake game for superfans with clearly a lot of effort put into it. You've got a new character introduced whose documents are the book itself, interviewing the characters from the game, and including bits from in-universe books (a short story from Alan Wake, and excerpts from an Alex Casey novel, Hartman's book, and a book on the history of Bright Falls).
Wouldn't call this a must-read, definitely doesn't add to the plot, but it's nice. I wish the throughline following Clay Steward could have been stronger and, oddly enough, the prose here suffers from the same weaknesses as the game's novelization: Just a little too pulpy for my taste.
Of course, love the game. It's one of my all-time favorites. Finally got around to reading this while replaying the game, recapping for the now-released Alan Wake 2!
Full review (potentially video review) in the works. For now, here's the small bit I wrote in my book journal:
Dalinar's POV was the least interesting to me, never quite intriguing until towards the very end to set up more for the series. Shallan's POV, which I enjoyed a lot, felt like it was left aside for too long and ended seemingly haphazardly to, again, set up more for the future. Kaladin's POV, however, is the sole reason I kept reading, with an exploration of character so engaging and fulfilling that I'm glad he was the main focus in this entry.
Don't let my progress updates scare you! I took an eight-month break from reading out of necessity for work, so really it only took me, a slow reader, four weeks to read this. Will be diving into details more soon!