Hannah

Nice story written with a lot of love, but a bit too cutesy for me. If you’ve read an Emily Henry and thought “I loved it but I wish it had EVEN MORE witty dialogue”, you’d probably love this book

Wallis covers this story thoroughly and with heart, reviewing everything from the first inklings of an issue with Horizon to the massive cover up and court cases that followed while still taking the time to focus on the individuals who were so profoundly impacted by the frankly evil actions of the post office. As we proceed into a new age of AI, I think this is a really important cautionary tale of what happens when we blindly trust technology to be the judge, jury, and executioner without the protections of human verification.

The Secret History captured me immediately with it's opening line.

The snow in the mountains was melting and Bunny had been dead for several weeks before we came to understand the gravity of our situation.

This one sentence captures the magic of the novel itself - lyrical but with a strong sense of place that doesn't distance itself from the action. I was also surprised by the absolutely wild plot and the intense set of characters who slowly disintegrate like a slow burn thriller. I honestly went in expecting something slightly boring and pretentious. The most pulse racing aspect of this is not fast, it is patient. The murders have happened, the culprits have gotten away. Then we spend the latter half of the book observing the slow psychological decline of all involved while the rose-colored glasses are removed from our eyes. The beautiful charming twins become an incest-filled pattern of abuse, the brilliant leader is an psychopathic cliche with grandiose tendencies who poisons dogs (the bastard), the enigmatic professor is just a coward who enabled his students to feel entitled to murder. This descent merges in interesting ways with lectures from said professor and kicked off a lot of pondering for me on aesthetic academics and the psychological impact of feeling that you exist in a sphere above the common folk.

Why does that obstinate little voice in our heads torment us so?...Could it be because it reminds us that we are alive, of our mortality, of our individual souls- which, after all, we are too afraid to surrender but yet make us feel more miserable than any other thing? But isn't it also pain that often makes us most aware of self? It is a terrible thing to learn as a child that one is a being separate from all the world, that no one and nothing hurts along with one's burned tongues and skimmed knees, that one's aches and pains are all one's own...Our own selves make us most unhappy, and that's why we're so anxious to lose them, don't you think?"

In my view, Richard remained the only slightly sympathetic character because his own poverty and the peek into his home situation reveal the desperation that led him to tolerate and assist in his new rich friends' horrible actions. Even the reader initially falls into the dream with him - a life where all his friends graduate together and live together forever in that nice country home where nothing ever changes. Only he seems to internally struggle both during and after Bunny's murder, to him Bunny was part of that dream.

I forgave him, a hundred times over, and never on the basis of anything more than this: a look, a gesture, a certain tilt of his head. Is seemed impossible then that one could ever be angry with him. These were the times he chose to attack...I would vow not to forget it again. I broke that promise many times. I was about to say it was a promise I finally had to keep, but that's not really true. Even today, I can't muster anything resembling anger at Bunny. In fact, I can't think of much I'd like better than for him to step into the room right now, glasses fogged and smelling of damp wool, shaking the rain from his hair... saying "Dickie my boy, what you got for a thirsty old man to drink tonight?"

I was struck with a black, incredulous horror, which is fact was not at all unlike the horror I had felt at 12..."who is in control here?" I thought, dismayed. Who is flying this plane?

The gist of all this is that being able to quote text in Greek and Latin doesn't excuse you from living a moral life or put you above the constraints of society. Even if you get away with this breaking of moral boundaries, you cannot escape from yourself: "I suppose at one time in my life I might have had any number of stories, but now there is no other. This is the only story I will ever be able to tell."

This is an extremely difficult read emotionally. Jackson builds the world and characters in bright colors then takes you along step by step with every heartbreak and dismissal and desperate action that Claudia takes to try and find her missing friend. My heart broke every time Claudia's concerns were dismissed, I was so mad at every adult in this book for their inaction and so devastated for all the children hurt because of it - Claudia and Monday and April and the real stories Jackson based this novel on where kids had no one to advocate for them. The conclusion had me crying in public on a park bench.

Outside of the subject matter, Claudia herself is such a lovable character. I loved the way she viewed her relationships with others through colors. Her dyslexia is integrated so perfectly through the slow improvement of her journal entries to Monday versus the final "voice" of the future Claudia narrating the novel.

If Monday were a color, she'd be red. Crisp, striking, vivid, you couldn't miss her - a bullseye in the room, a crackling flame. I saw so much red that it blinded me to any flags

I trust T. Kingfisher to tell a good story, I think only she could tell me "I'm about to tell you a story about the evil god of road runners" and have me nodding along. The world building here was lovely, the desert community with it's oddly named homes and even odder people formed a place I fell in love with. I will now fantasize about the idea of running away to a small desert town that just gives you a house and lets you putter around your garden all day (minus the scorpions and the black widows).

C'mon padre, doesn't the lord promise something about floods?

He promised not to destroy the world. Individuals are still expected to get to high ground.

Great writing and concept, but the way the relationship with Mel was allowed to trail off with a hint of future emotional infidelity was a real trigger for me

This story follows a woman who has been isolated in a tower her entire life, convinced by her uncle and aunt (who are stealing her money) that she is ugly and too sick to go outside. The male protagonist is a brutish army general of illegitimate birth whose younger brother was engaged to the women but decided to call off the marriage. When the protagonist goes to break off the engagement, the woman then proposes to him instead. I found this book absolutely crazy and neither romantic nor heartwarming, but also surprisingly addictive.

This was beautiful. The Smell of Other People's Houses follows four teenagers leading intersected lives connected by the setting of the wild Alaska towns of the 1970s. Their stories were heartbreaking and tragic at times, but by the time the author had connected and tied up the stories, I was left with hope and an appreciation for the resiliency of humanity amidst all the messes we tend to make of our lives.

I gave the fanfic that this was based on five stars last year. I still thought the writing here was so so funny and enjoyable to sink into. It made me laugh and was lighthearted with good writing that didn't take me out of the story. I felt the romantic tension and loved the slow burn. What fell apart here was the world building. The fan fiction was propped up on the existing world building of Harry Potter so it already had the strong characterization. Here, the world building doesn't quite cut it and the love interest here is a straight up murderer with no morals, who was much harder for me to root for versus the reformed Draco who I loved.

I'm so glad I read this book at this point because I needed the hope and the perspective that the look back in history lent. There are so many inspirational people who took on small, common, but persistent daily steps to bring about the progress we see today. It's not about having your face in the headlines or yelling on a stage. As Virginia Randolph said, its's about looking around and asking yourself, "what is the next needed thing?" This book will stay in my mind and my heart for a long long time.

This was at times interesting and entertaining, but mostly felt like a voyeuristic explanation of how much a rich New Yorker fashionista spends on wellness trends.

Another of my favorite tropes where the man fundamentally misunderstands the protagonist due to some preconceived notions and slowly learns overtime why she should be valued. It got a bit overly angsty near the end, but otherwise the perfect fluffy read.

Am I interested in reading historical fiction from the Napoleonic wars? No, not all all. But throw in some dragons? I'm all in!

This was everything I'd been looking for in the midst of a fiction reading slump. It was a fun and wholesome regency style alternative history that felt like a Jane Austen novel with more war. Not quite 5 stars because I thought the dragons would have been more interesting if given general independence and personality rather than being like a hybrid of a dog and a ship.

This romance drove me crazy. The love interest is a violent and resentful man in general which makes his obsession with Caroline feel forced and unbelievable. Caroline is the "perfect woman" - a virginal porn star who is down for anything but only for the one guy so that she can at the same time remain impossibly pure and naive. Not for me.

Margo is an icon with a truly unique voice and story that somehow managed to be both ridiculous (wrestler father, OnlyFans, Pokemon dick poetry) and incredibly genuine at its essence. I laughed out loud every other page, frequently had to put the book down out of anxiety for the very stressful situations Margo found herself in, and felt deep affection for Margo, her baby, her father, her roommate - basically everyone except her mother and Kevin who both suck.

Margo's story is particularly powerful because it provides an understandable backstory and humanization of the often judgemental tone behind "How did she get here?" We fall into the life of this intelligent, clever, funny woman who ends up monetizing sex because it is the only option left to her. The author shows how alone she is, how she is expected to be a single mother and have no child care and support them both financially, leaving you to question right along with Margo what the hell else she is supposed to do.

"She felt incredibly stupid for believing him, for having the affair with him, for having a uterus"

"She kept thinking, as she nursed him, I am so fucked, I am so fucked, I am so fucked. Because all around her she could feel the echoey space of no one caring about her or worrying about her or helping her. She might as well have been nursing this baby on an abandoned space station."

"It seemed improbable that men really wanted sex this badly, and yet they did, there was an entire economy based on how badly they wanted it, and for a moment Margo understood the sexual desire she felt was mild in comparison. She would never pay fifteen dollars to look at a guy naked. You could buy two, possibly three sandwiches for fifteen dollars."

Margo and her father working together on scripts and production was strangely heartwarming, and also further revealed the creativity and potential Margo has if someone would just let her catch a break. She takes the porn industry which one may consider shallow in meaning and makes it quotable.

"Give me your boredom and your sadness and your anxiety: I will eat it all. I will eat the buttons off your shirt, your darkest secrets, your keys, locks of your hair, your memories. Come play with me in a world we make up together. I will only kill you a little bit, and you will like it."

Her father is much more lovable than her mother, who represents the internalized belief that (1) you must be loved to survive (2) in order to be loved, you must adhere to the idealized form of femininity upheld by the men who gift you with love and (3) sacrifice anything that may upset this fiction. However, he still doesn't end up being what Margo ultimately can rely on. Neither does the hint of romance serve as Margo's finale. As a complete opposite to the situation her mother ends up in, Margo reframes love from a rescue to something that you can generate for yourself.

"Love was not something, I realized, that came to you from the outside. I had always thought that love was supposed to come from other people, and somehow, I was failing to catch the crumbs of it, failing to eat them, and I went around belly empty and desperate. I didn't know that love was supposed to come from within me, and that as long as I loved others, the strength and warmth of that love would fill me, make me strong."

My one struggle with this book was the ending, the final detour into a business idea with JB, who I could care less about, felt emotionally unsatisfying compared to the rest of the story.

I was really looking forward to this release by the author of my favorite 2024 romance read, Lovelight Farm. The dialogue had a witty vibe and the sexual tension in that tiny recording room was 10/10. But the slow burn aspect felt forced and had my least favorite motivation - flimsy internal conflict. There was absolutely no real reason why they couldn't be together, yet the entire book he ruins everything by being the "I'm just not made for love!" type. There were so many different external reasons that could've felt more real for slow burn purposes! What if the radio show owner had forbidden him from getting involved because they needed her out date to keep up the ratings? I would have immediately been less annoyed and more invested.

I was not familiar with the name Frances Perkins when I started this audiobook, but found myself falling in love with this piece of historical fiction. It digs into the very real accomplishments of the first female member of a presidential cabinet. Perkins was the longest serving Secretary of Labor, an architect of the 40-hour work week and Social Security, a drafter of child labor bans, and an advocate for aiding Jewish refugees fleeing Nazi Germany. The novel dips into fictions to imagine Perkin's personal life - what she must've been thinking while battling through a majority male government to fight for working class rights.

I finished this book with immense respect for Frances Perkins, and for FDR, who broke gender conventions by empowering her to fundamentally change our country.

'Why economics?', I echoed gamely. 'Because many people in American believe poverty is a moral problem having to do with sloth or some other sin we can blame on individuals. But I believe poverty in America is an economic problem that can be solved...and I intend to solve it.'

Social security - which was expanded again and again to cover more Americans of every race and creed - is now so much a part of American psychology that I truly believe no politician, political party, or political group can possibly destroy it and maintain a democratic system. I suppose I should also be grateful that the reforms I fought for are bricks so firmly embedded in the edifice of national life that Americans now take them for granted.

Very silly, but in the best way. Had a very specific trope I search for where the love interest initially snubs the FMC only to realize he was wrong, slowly grow to respect her, and do some groveling.

This was a re-read and I actually really enjoyed my first read through of the whole magiford series. Either I'm older and grumpier or was just caught up in the fun on first reading, but I just couldn't ignore the writing quality and holes / lack of depth in both the plot and the characters.

To quote a review for this book on goodreads - "complete fluffiest fluff". Adorable comfort read.

I was riveted by this entire reading journey, and the ending sent me on a spiral reviewing every prior interaction hinting at the twist. This was so very good. The imagery was horrifying and the writing was beautiful. The ambiguity of the ending really stuck with me - we don't know if either Dover or Thomas were real. We don't know if they were fighting monsters or Andrew was on a crazed murder spree. We don't know if Andrew saved Thomas or murdered him in a horrible way.

Andrew though about slipping his fingers into Thomas's cut. Taking hold of his rib and breaking it. Pulling the soft crumbling bone from his chest and sewing it into his own. They'd be forever together, rib against rib, fused into gore and bone and adoration.

I really loved the concept of this - older women has nothing left to live for after losing her husband and adult son until she find a mouse in an old abandoned fish bowl. But several things went wrong for me with the execution. The old woman is extremely unlikable and difficult to follow. The plot escalates from the every day but meaningful to rather ridiculuous (hospital trips for mouse oxygen equipment) and the end was not satisfactory. Altogether, I felt that I didn't get much meaning or comfort from this.

A stream of consciousness narrative following the last year of undocumented Catalina's time at Harvard. Catalina's voice is poetic and wise and full of nonsense and dramatic and loving and selfish and heartbreaking. She was always vulnerably and unforgettably herself even as she barreled towards a future where she knew she would be forgotten. There was not bright future or dream job in her prospects without papers and you fluctuate with her from anger and angst to humorous nihilism and detachment about the cliff she's about to be pushed over, the friends and lovers who will soon leave her behind. Catalina is a book I'll be thinking about for a long time. I also was initially upset but eventually understanding about the ambiguity of the ending. Why should we have closure and certainty when Catalina must live in a constant state of uncertainty.

Mira Catalina, you are never going to have to ask a man for money. You are never going to have to extend your hand and ask for a coffee or a sanitary napkin or a home. You have to promise me

I want to sell out and work for a hedge fund like everybody else

It's a powerful thing to be an object, but it's boring. All you have to do is sit there. His affection lasted only as long as I remained silent.

The first 50-60% of this was a five star read. The grief and father-son strained relationship was heartbreaking and had me flipping the pages to see both Emmet and our protagonist find their worth. The slow burn gave space for building a deep friendship that made you believe in their ability to join their families. My issue is that we just went on too long and both the plot and the writing loosened up to the point where I grew border and started waiting for the end. Then all of a sudden a bunch of plot is thrown in at the end and I had whiplash as we went from plot to slice of life to PLOT with very little build up before the final conflict. I did still enjoy this and loved all the characters.

The world building here is just perfect. The idea of magic as visible threads (to some) allowing control of a portion or all elements with four Londons that used to me connected until one of the London's magic grew contaminated had me captivated. While we follow multiple perspectives across the London's, my favorite perspective was Tes - a tinkerer and teenage girl in hiding from her family who can manipulate the threads of magic to fix and modify their spells. The was the most pure headspace among a whole cast of morally grey characters who are at times difficult to love.

I did have a feeling while reading that there was so much backstory and history that you could fill a whole earlier novel in the series only to discover after reading that this book is indeed set in the same world as a whole other series, Shades of Magic. I would read that series first if I were to do a re-read.