Topherlytle
If I had read World War Z before 2020, I probably would’ve enjoyed it and moved on. But reading it post-2020? It feels downright prescient.
Told through a series of interviews conducted after the zombie apocalypse, the book pieces together a haunting oral history of how the world responded, and failed to respond, to the crisis. The format keeps things fresh, with each voice offering a distinct perspective, making it nearly impossible to get bored.
What surprised me most was how deeply unsettling it was, not because of the zombies, but because of how accurately it portrays global breakdown: conspiracies, misinformation, governmental posturing, denial, division… It all hits a little too close to home.
A compelling and eerily relevant read. Definitely worth your time.
Murder at Spindle Manor is, at its core, a classic murder mystery in the vein of Agatha Christie or Sir Arthur Conan Doyle—if those authors had written in a world steeped in Victorian spiritualism, steampunk fantasy, and horror.
The central mystery is well-crafted, the characters are fully realized, and the setting is dripping with eerie, atmospheric charm. The strange, supernatural elements only add to the fun, layering intrigue on top of an already engaging whodunnit.
This book is pretty unique in all the best ways. It felt like I was playing a video game in my mind, solving puzzles, exploring creepy halls, and uncovering secrets. I continue to enjoy books that are bold enough mash up genres, and this one leans all the way in. It’s a bonkers combination that somehow works for me.
Where the Deer and the Antelope Play is an interesting, albeit unbalanced, work. I'm a big fan of Nick Offerman. Generally, I appreciate his humor, observations, thoughts, and desire for nuance. This book is at its best when his passion comes through with humor and humility rather than biting cynicism. I don't disagree with much of what Offerman asserts, and I certainly found myself chortling many times throughout.
However, he often falls into the same trap he critiques, speaking unkindly about people or groups as he groups them together as a monolith. Some portions of the book, particularly the last section, already haven't aged well. That doesn't mean it isn't filled with incredible nuggets and thoughtful challenges, it absolutely is, but the imbalance is most clearly seen in those later chapters. I wouldn't call it hypocritical, but when one of the book's core themes is nuance and a desire to understand, that gets a bit lost as frustration and anger begin to take the lead.
Overall, I appreciate this book. It brings up hard realities and challenging questions with humor and aplomb, even if it's clear who Offerman believes the villains are. I disagreed with several things and would genuinely love to have a real-life conversation with him about it.
If you're politically homeless, a Christian, a keyboard warrior, someone with little work ethic, a whiner, or a conservative, you'll probably feel uncomfortable at times—and I think that's okay. If you're a Trumpian conservative, a Christian nationalist, or a far-right Republican, you're likely going to hate this book. You should read it anyway.
3.5 stars.
I Who Have Never Known Men was an interesting and thought provoking read.This single-perspective novel is well written, well paced, bleak, and yet oddly beautiful. It follows a young girl as she grows up in the aftermath of an unnamed catastrophe.
It's a fascinating character study, one that explores themes of nature and nurture, the human instinct to keep going, to learn, and to experience life, even when hope wanes. Though undeniably melancholy, it is not without some brightness, and it is a book that lingers. I suspect I'll be thinking about it for weeks to come.
The Will of the Many has everything a reader could want in an epic fantasy. James Islington has crafted a 650+ page novel that you never want to put down. The story is masterfully plotted, balancing mystery and revelation at a perfect pace while weaving in political intrigue, a fascinating magic system, and well-developed, complex characters. Yes, there are familiar tropes, but they're executed in ways that feel fresh and exciting.
What I appreciate most about this book is that while it doesn't shy away from the darkness of humanity or the many hypocrisies we carry, it still manages to give us a protagonist who strives to be his best. There is strength, honor, and courage here in ways that are often absent in modern fantasy.
The novel explores big ideas and philosophical questions about complicity, leadership, government, classism, humanity, trust, peace, loss - but it never feels heavy-handed. These themes quietly support the story rather than overshadow it.
This is a book I'll be talking about for a long time. I'm already eagerly anticipating the next installment, but for now, I can confidently say: the hype is real. If you're a fan of fantasy, you should absolutely read this...if you haven't already.
Much like Strange Pictures, Strange Houses is, indeed, strange. These books are bizarre, unique, and oddly readable, but I continue to find that the deeper I go, the more I feel a knot forming in my stomach. There's a constant sense of unease, never knowing where things are headed or how they'll end.
The author seems to trade in ambiguity and a deeply unsettling sense of foreboding, creating a reading experience that is as compelling as it is disorienting.
I've wanted to read The Library Book ever since I first heard about its publication several years ago. Growing up in Southern California, I have vague childhood memories of the Los Angeles Central Library fire and the massive recovery effort that followed. Pair that with a lifelong love of reading, and this book seemed like a natural fit.
Which makes my disappointment all the more palpable.
It's not a bad book by any means, it's well-researched and well-written. But the execution didn't fully resonate with me. The narrative often felt unwieldy, as if the author tried to include too much, pulling the story in several directions at once.
The book is at its best when focused on the fire itself, the history of the Los Angeles Central Library, and the ensuing trial. Where it faltered, for me, was in its constant broadening of scope, covering general information about libraries, library struggles, and librarians. While those are interesting topics in their own right, here they felt shoehorned in, more like pontification than support for any form of central narrative. As a result, some moments that deserved deeper exploration were only briefly touched upon before the story moved on while others dragged on or completely stopped any form of narrative momentum.
I don't regret reading The Library Book. It simply wasn't what I thought, or hoped, it would be. 3.5
A must-read for any Tolkien or Lewis fan, The Mythmakers beautifully weaves together quotes, letters, historical details, and a bit of storyteller's license to bring to life the extraordinary friendship between these two literary giants. Their friendship, their fellowship, is something I deeply admire, especially when I look at the world today and see how rare such close, encouraging, and intellectually challenging friendships have become. It makes me wistful.
At first, I worried that the graphic novel format might feel distracting or overly juvenile, but it surprised me in the best way. The format not only works, it elevates the story. By the end, I found my eyes welling.
This would make a perfect gift for the Tolkien or Lewis fan in your life, but I truly believe The Mythmakers offers something meaningful to anyone, regardless of how familiar they are with these men. It's a moving tribute to friendship, faith, creativity, and the enduring power of story.
Orbital is not a book for those seeking the usual tenants of a novel. There's no action, mystery, dragons, murder, or sex, none of the conventional hooks that tend to drive popular fiction, and honestly, I think it's better for it.
The book follows a small group of astronauts as they orbit the Earth, offering observations, lists, musings, and a few brief but meaningful interactions. It's more meditative than narrative. This is a slim book, but it's not one to rush through. The author writes poetically, inviting the reader to slow down and contemplate on the idea of perspective, on how things are, how they might have been, how they could possibly be.
Some readers will likely hate this book. For some, it may be because they expected something different, or simply don't care for the writing. Others might reject it because they've turned it into a political statement in their own minds. Still others may dislike it because it dwells in ambiguity, or because they've never experienced the quiet joy of sitting alone, wrapped in wonder, thinking deeply about what they've just read. If I'm honest, there are plenty of reasons not to like this book, but I suspect most of them have more to do with what we, as readers, bring to it than with the book itself.
To those readers, I say: reread it. Give it another chance. Read one orbit at a time and let yourself dwell in it. Maybe read it outdoors. Read it slowly, one orbit a week even, and allow yourself space to look at the world a little differently.
I truly believe that most readers, if they allow themselves to slow down with this book and engage with its themes, even in disagreement, will find much more to like than to dislike.
5 Stars
Vera Wong's Unsolicited Advice for Murderers has no business being as good as it is. This is a comical whodunnit with heart and charisma, but it also manages to thoughtfully explore deeper themes like loneliness, aging, the consequences of our mistakes, found family, and rediscovering one's passion.
Sutanto wastes no time in firmly establishing Vera's character, and every secondary character has their own meaningful arc. After the inevitable murder occurs in her tea shop, the story unfolds with near-perfect pacing, full of twists, turns, and relationship building that draw the reader in even further. I laughed way more than I expected and found myself constantly hungry thanks to the way Sutanto writes all of the mouthwatering cooking descriptions.
Is this the pinnacle of literature? No. Sure, I could nitpick on some things, but honestly, I wouldn't want to. This book knows what it is and it is a breath of fresh air. Read it if you have breath in your lungs and a beating heart. Skip it if you're lame.
Big thanks to my friend Kat, who recommended this to me in December 24.
3.5 When the Wolf Comes Home is a fast-paced, bonkers horror story that constantly defies expectations. Just when I thought I had a sense of where it was going, it would veer sharply in a new direction. At its core, the book offers a compelling allegory about fear. It also teases deeper themes, familial trauma, inherited anxiety, and the murky question of what we can and cannot control.
One of the cleverest aspects of the book is the way the author weaves principles of improv throughout the narrative. Sometimes it's overt, other times more subtle, but either way, it's effective. These elements play a key role in the story's constant forward motion and unpredictability, adding to the sense that anything can happen at any moment. I believe this improvisational framework is part of why the book kept surprising me, it mirrors the chaos and adaptability of both horror and human fear.
That said, it was more graphically violent than I was prepared for. The author clearly had a vision for what he wanted this book to be, and I think he probably achieved most of it. Where the novel falters for me is in its undercurrent of fatherhood and father issues. There's a thread of something redemptive there, an exploration of flawed fathers, the weight they carry, and the possibility of growth or change, but it never quite lands.
Ironically, the afterword articulates several of the book's themes beautifully, and reading it made me appreciate the novel more in hindsight. Still, I can't help but feel that if you need the afterword to redeem some of the themes not fully developed, then something may be missing from the narrative itself, especially when it comes to the idea that not all dads are irredeemable.
If you enjoy horror that's unpredictable, a bit unhinged, rich with subtext, and not shy about gore, you will enjoy this book. But if you're sensitive to graphic violence or have a mountain of unresolved daddy issues, this one might be a tougher read.
3.5. While the story itself didn't fully capture my attention, I have to confess, the lyrical nature of the prose and the atmosphere of modern folklore gave the book a quiet charm. This is a brief read, but the language is beautiful and evocative. It feels less like reading a novel and more like listening to someone tell a tale while sitting on a porch near a forested riverbank. There's a warmth and simplicity to it that lingers, even if I didn't fully connect with the plot and characters.
Read this book!
The Raven Scholar had everything, and then some. It's an epic fantasy that somehow feels shorter than its 600+ pages. While it's not perfect and could probably have been trimmed a bit, it has easily landed in my top five reads of the year.
This book is packed: a cast of richly drawn and complex characters, fully realized worldbuilding, palace intrigue, a slightly narcissistic raven, a murder mystery, an ongoing competition, real stakes, and best of all, humor. It's honestly so refreshing to read high fantasy that isn't afraid to weave in perfectly timed quips and ridiculous (yet entirely in-character) moments of levity.
Antonia Hodgson deftly uses each character's personality to drive the story forward, while keeping us grounded in the journey of the primary protagonist. Impressively, even the secondary characters are given meaningful arcs, making every thread feel vital to the larger narrative. It deepens your emotional investment in ways that feel organic and earned.
I hadn't even heard of this book until a visit to Blackwell's while I was in Oxford. A bookseller there told me it was his favorite recent fantasy release, describing it as something that hit all the right notes without being preachy, overly grim, or mind-numbingly slow. Now that I've read it, I couldn't agree more.
This book is a journey, one absolutely worth taking. I alternated between reading the physical book and listening to the audiobook, and I have to say: the narrator is phenomenal. She brings each character to life with distinct voices and emotional nuance.
No matter how you read it, if you're a fan of fantasy, The Raven Scholar is one to put on your shelf. 4.5 almost a 5.
4.5 - The Bewitching confirms that Silvia Moreno-Garcia is quickly becoming one of my favorite authors. Her latest novel is a wonderfully atmospheric and gothic read. Set across three distinct timelines, the story weaves an intriguing mystery grounded in both Mexican and American folklore.
The novel unfolds like a snowball rolling downhill, steadily building momentum, tension, and weight until it finally comes to a stop. While many of the reveals may be easy for readers to predict, I suspect that's intentional. The real strength of the book lies in the journey itself, the way the three storylines intertwine and evolve is what makes it so engaging.
That's not to say the mysteries are unimportant; they simply serve the story, rather than being the only thing you remember.
For those who haven't read Moreno-Garcia before, her writing is accessible, efficient, and visually compelling. Her command of gothic literature and horror feels fresh, grounded, and deeply immersive, never veering into camp or hopelessness..
If you like your stories a little gothic and a little spooky, you're going to enjoy this one.
Everything Is Tuberculosis was an enlightening read. John Green takes you on a journey that unveils realities I, as a middle-class American, was woefully ignorant of. Deeply researched and presented in an engaging, personal way, this book invites reflection, empathy, and curiosity.
It made me think, feel, and genuinely consider how I might better use my voice. I believe this is a valuable read for anyone seeking to understand the ever present reality of tuberculosis in our world.
Do I think the author is a gifted storyteller? Absolutely.
Is this sci-fi? No. This is Lit Fic that flirts with sci-fi.
Do I know how to rate this thing? Not really.
Do I recommend this book? I think so.
When I write reviews, I don't aim for objectivity, I respond subjectively. On an objective level, prose, plot, character development, Death of the Author is a solid. Okorafor's craftsmanship is clear. The structure is creative, the writing is (mostly) sharp, and the central narrative is compelling.
But subjectively? I struggled.
Okorafor has created a fully realized protagonist, but one so deeply selfish and self-serving that I found myself frequently frustrated. And yet, to her credit, I kept reading. That speaks volumes about Okorafor's talent. She pulls you in, even when you're mad at the protagonist. Honestly, the book-within-a-book (Rusted Robots) is something I'd read on its own.
Beyond the character's selfishness and the bordering-on-nihilistic tone, I also wrestled with some of the “interview” chapters. Very few added depth and complexity; most felt shoehorned in and disrupted the flow for me.
And then there's the ending. Oof. I really did not care for the ending. I respect the author's choices, but it didn't feel as satisfying or complete as the rest of the novel. It left me all kinds of meh.
So, where does that leave me?
I'd give Death of the Author a 3.5 for now. I plan to reread it next year and may adjust that rating. Regardless, Nnedi Okorafor is an immensely gifted writer, unafraid to explore the complexity of human nature, family ties, and personal ambition. The novel reflects the messiness of life. And while I personally wished for a bit more hope, humility, or gratitude in its pages, I recognize, some will simply continue to choose self over anything else.
“Writing is not life, but I think that sometimes it can be a way back to life.”
With humor, directness, heart, and wisdom, King shares key beliefs and insights for anyone who is, or wants to be, a writer. He delivers these observations through story and reflection, to great effect.
Even if you have no aspirations of becoming a writer, this book is approachable and engaging enough to be enjoyed by anyone. Better still, King doesn't belabor anything, he keeps it slim, purposeful, and sharply written throughout.
Give it a read if you want to improve your writing, you're a fan of King, or you're simply looking for a quick, thoughtful, and entertaining read.
If I'm honest, Grave Empire was a book I picked up solely because of the cover. I mean, just look at it. It's awesome.
I haven't read the author's Empire of the Wolf trilogy, which is set in the same world, but I can confidently say that Grave Empire is a strong start to a new series. It's high grimdark fantasy with unexpected elements of cosmic horror, a combination I didn't anticipate but found surprisingly compelling.
The book is quite plot-heavy and deeply focused on worldbuilding. The author does a sublime job immersing the reader in a richly imagined setting. However, I found the characters mostly dull and hard to connect with emotionally. I didn't really care much about any of them.
That said, this very much reads like the first installment of a trilogy. With that in mind, I'm giving it a solid four stars. Its themes—loss, colonialism, human aggression, the lust for power, and more subtle undercurrents like betrayal and existential purpose—are well woven throughout.
Once the full trilogy is out and I've read the rest, I may revise my rating up or down depending on how the characters evolve and how the story resolves.
I'll admit I'm not a huge fan of books that don't offer a self-contained narrative and mostly exist to set up future volumes. But the author's craft and imagination are strong enough that I'm genuinely intrigued to see what comes next.
Give it a read if: you enjoy dense fantasy, intricate worldbuilding, grimdark vibes, and elements of horror.
Skip it if: you're looking for strong character development, lighter or cozier fantasy, or an easy read that doesn't demand much from the reader.
Like trying to untangle a knot, Strange Pictures unravels in such a clever way that you're pulled forward just to see how it all connects. I was surprised by some of the interwoven themes, which I won't name for fear of spoilers, and how such a slight book could conjure so much impending dread.
Although the language at times felt choppy in the English translation, it somehow added to the discomfort in a way that felt intentional. The mystery throughout and the horror of what people are capable of grabs your attention, but the emotional center is what ultimately lands. Quietly and unexpectedly.
Give it a read!
Piranesi is a beautifully written novel with a premise as mysterious as it is captivating. While often categorized as fantasy, it feels more like speculative fiction, or perhaps “fantasy light”, with a literary depth and layered themes that surprised me. The story unfolds in layers, revealing a world rich in symbolism and meaning, and a protagonist who is both compelling and quietly profound. As the mysteries unravel, the book evokes a mix of emotions: wonder, sadness, hope, and a lingering bittersweetness. I can see how this novel might be polarizing, but for me, it was a surprising and deeply rewarding read.
I had no idea the mystery-fantasy subgenre even existed, but I'm sure glad I found it. The Tainted Cup delivers a smart and engaging mystery wrapped in inventive worldbuilding, sharp irreverence, and a cast of truly memorable characters. The central contagion used as a plot device is both graphic and imaginative - disturbing in all the right ways. If you're a fan of fantasy, mystery, or stories that lean into the weird without losing their grip on good storytelling, this one is absolutely worth a read.
2.5 Emily Wilde's Encyclopaedia of Faeries was... fine, I guess. Once again, I find myself realizing I probably wasn't the intended audience. It had a cozy feel and a few fun elements, but I was hoping for a more adventurous fantasy romp grounded in rich fairy folklore. Instead, I got a book that seemed to be reaching for Pride and Prejudice with faeries, aiming for that same wit and charm, but falling far short of that standard, weighed down by overly flowery language and a lack of narrative momentum.
It's not that the author lacks talent, she clearly has skill, but the book seems aimed at readers who aren't looking for much plot or substance, just an atmospheric tale to linger in. For some, that's exactly what they want. For me, it just didn't quite land.
I also think the primary protagonist is the worst.