Ninett

The space cowboy neons and slang are a fresh take, especially for sci-fi written in the 80's, with some of it coming across even now as quite prescient. That said, I didn't like any of the characters. I connected with nothing from the story, either. I'm kind of just glad it's done now. I'm writing this review two or three weeks after finishing it and I'm at a loss trying to even remember the plot.

I think I was just not the right audience for this book. For me it did not live up to the hype, and I can't really see why it is so highly praised. It is about middling, a bog standard relationship novel, really. I didn't dislike it and it wasn't bad, but it doesn't have anything new in it for me.

I do love games and play many genres of game, though, so to see games coming through to literature is fun, though the games were just a backdrop to a love story (and I am not into the latter)

I thought a book about dinosaurs from the Victorian age would be right up my alley—and for the most part, it would have been, if not for the gross racism and sexism, which tainted the whole thing for me. I was also chilled by the way the characters treated a supposedly pristine, untampered-with biological system they had discovered: killing things, trampling over everything, causing the extinction of an intelligent species (!!!), and stealing baby animals from their parents. I dunno, just not for me. I'm just not the type who can enjoy this mindset, even as fiction. I like dinosaurs, but this was too much of a bravado story from the peak of the 'man dominates world' epoch.

I loved the character development in this. The jumps in time between each of the books of the quartet allow the reader to follow a single character from reckless youth to seasoned veteran of magic. Sparrowhawk goes through a lot, and learns from his mistakes. Earthsea is a vast, beautifully detailed world through which the reader is gently led as the story unfolds.

I now realise that the magic system that relies on magicians knowing the true names of things does not come from Rothfuss as I originally thought (naively) after having read his work, but traces its roots to the Earthsea quartet and after a bit of research, even further back to Egyptian mythology. To me, this is the best magic system because it feels very human.

Can't fault the memoir, really. I was interested to read about the early days of personal computing in particular, and I enjoy media set in that era immensely in general. The enthusiasm of everyone involved is palpable from the writing. I learned a lot about the timeline and the tech, as well as the origins of many of the companies who are now the absolute foundations of modern life. I tend to enjoy Gates' writing, this was no exception.

I had high hopes for this because it has been recommended by a few people whose opinions I respect, but for me it fell flat other than a few good points. It opened my eyes to the true extent of the problems that could arise from use of AI by bad actors, and it is interesting to read the perspective of someone who is so intimately involved in the development of the tech. But it was also dry and repetitive to me, and the chapter headings weren't very linked to the content in them. Overall could have been executed a lot better and didn't really need to be this long as all the points were made early on.

Solid work. I somehow didn't realise there would be a romance element to this novel and didn't find it very convincing. People do not start touching each other's face and hair upon first meeting. There were lots of good ideas and unique settings/ situations in the novel, but I did feel like the work was a repository of these great ideas essentially just cobbled together. More of a patchwork than a seamless story.

That said, the characters were interesting and there were enough twists to keep me reading, so I can't rate it badly :)

I wasn't sure what to expect going into this, but I wanted to read more highly acclaimed books from literary perspectives that are not strictly western. This novel was short, but so intelligently written and so emotionally deep that I found myself wishing to have seen more of the life of the protagonist. The blending of a traditional world with the modern is something I have personally seen in my own home country and find the meshing to be captivating, I'm glad someone is writing it down while it's still there.

For most of the novel, I thought that the animals really were killing people, and I felt pleased with the outcome, the real ending took me very unaware. I can't believe I didn't see it coming.

I loved the Victorian Edinburgh setting, which feels very authentic—unsurprising, as the authors are from the Central Belt of Scotland. The writing is impeccable, and the narrative flows well with well-thought-out pacing.

I've never really wondered about how abortions were handled when they weren't well developed as a medical intervention, but this novel got me thinking about it. I shudder to imagine what I would have done without contraceptives or a way to abort an unwanted pregnancy.

For me, this novel was a bit of pure, somewhat gruesome Victorian escapism, though some elements remain to be cleaned up—perhaps in the next instalment.

I never read crime, so the genre will feel fresh to me every time, even if laden with tropes. I loved the characters of the two monks, and the way that the setting was written. It felt very real and alive. The only reason I couldn't rate it five stars is because I was immediately able to guess who the perpetrator was as soon as they were introduced, and the weird side-line about the kid who comes to harass the main after being questioned by him was an obvious ploy to throw the reader off the scent of the real killer.

Reading this is more like dropping into a beautifuly crafted ideal world in the future than reading a novel. Nothing much really happens, and I did miss the presence of a storyline. But the world Chambers wrote is worth getting into, it feels like a warm hug to soothe anxieties about the modern world. So, all in all this book is an immersive experience rather than a story.

Thank you for inducting me into the world of Australian history. I learned a lot - both about the original custodians of the Australian land, and about the colonisers who displaced them, through the lens of someone who identifies as being of the former group. This conversation is valuable and the time is ripe for us all to take a step back and survey the wisdom of the ancients to help up live more in tune with nature.

Unfortunately, the author took an adversarial tone which put me off the book sometimes. I empathise with the emotion behind this and support the point of view presented, but I think combative language in a book aiming to raise awareness and enlighten is counterproductive.

Maybe a tad slow and some repetition.

Brief, to the point, and varied enough to remain interesting. In 2025 I doubt that anyone is going into reading a book like this without knowledge of the attention economy and how this is viciously exploited by attention engineers at social media companies, so some parts are more review of what I think everyone already is aware of. It did teach me new things, though, and I have been able to more critically evaluate my phone use as a result of reading this (I deleted two book and time tracking apps because they were gateway distractions and the information isn't really THAT useful). I haven't been on social media for a long time anyway, so the focus on persuading the reader to use less of it did not hit home for me, but I still think it's an important cause and don't resent having that part in the book.

This memoir was so other from my own personal experience in its setting and depictions of daily life, and yet at the same time I felt so connected to the author through the common thread of struggling to get educated. Tara's abuse and her story are far sadder than mine, but I know how it feels to be fighting the odds as an independent adult, trying to go places in the world where there aren't many like her, and it was absorbing to read some reflection of myself in the perspectives of someone so completely different.

I found the family Tara grew up with to be very interesting, never having come across any fundamentalist christians before. It is positively baffling to me that some people choose to live like this, and I suppose that in its own right is enough to warrant this type of memoir.

Exactly what I expected having seen the series first. I really enjoyed the author's note at the front which essentially tells the reader that this is going to go on for a very long time in order to avoid an ending. There were some elements of the story that I liked more in the version of events as written here rather than in the series, but there were some that I liked better in the series (tank). The artwork is class and the writing is top notch.

I got this from the library as an experiment to see how well graphic novels read on a tablet. It turns out they fare very well, but I found the graphics here to be somewhat disappointing. I didn't enjoy the art style, which I felt was at times very chaotic. The writing left a bit to be desired as well, but I think the work originally having been written to be performed on air probably caused jankiness in writing. I wasn't a huge fan of any of the characters either. The ending was at least nice enough.

The idea that certain types of stress trigger a repair process wasn’t new to me—I’d read Exercised by Daniel Lieberman, which discusses how exercise acts as a stressor that prompts more repair than damage. This book went further, listing various stressors that can induce similar repair responses: exposure to uncomfortable temperatures, calorie restriction, fasting, and exercise, among others. It also dives into a fair amount of biology, which I expected from a scientist leading a Harvard lab. The content strikes a good balance—detailed enough to satisfy a fellow scientist’s need for rigour, yet clear enough for non-biologists like me to follow. I was somewhat sceptical about certain points, but the author does a good job of distinguishing between conjecture and established facts.

The writing was enjoyable, and the magic system a kind of spin on the very classic format of 'utter a spell and wave hands', so it was a very traditional-feeling novel in the fantasy writing domain. I enjoyed the elements of Eastern European lore and folk culture that were included, and I'm pleased that the author has family ties to that place (sorry Grishaverse).

Now for the part that took it down a few pegs for me: the Dragon is an absolutely awful man. He doesn't make up for his abhorrent behaviour and he is a fundamentally unkind character. This would be fine, if his relationship with Agnieszka weren't shown in a positive light. I can't understand when writers make the female character fall in love with an abusive man and portray the relationship in a complementary way, as is the case here - and then I am not even mentioning the age gap. The story was good but not memorable.

For me this installment was not as good as the first two.

I was hoping for something better to come of reading 800 pages worth of trekking across the map than that Verity turns into a dragon and Fitz essentially gets nothing for his toils. I still liked it because I adore Hobb's writing in general, but the ending for me just did not hit the spot.

I love Bardugo's plotting. She weaves a great story every time. It was paced well, and there were twists and turns, leaving me guessing the whole way through. When the end came about, I was surprised by the events.

The reason for the relatively lower score despite excellent plotting is that I just didn't connect with the world, the magic system, or the main character. It was lacking in some way that I just can't put my finger on. I don't really care about the characters or the world enough to really go and read the next novel in the series (but I will anyway to satisfy my completionist tendencies).

As with the first book, the characters are enjoyable, and the magic system is actually pretty unique. It feels weird to say, but I do really love the buildings in these books, both Il Bastone and Black Elm are beautifully described and atmospheric.

I am just still not captured by the main character. She's not lacking traits and personality, but I think I just don't click with her. I think also that there are some loopholes in the plotting of this one, but I am not invested enough to take proper note of them. I read the second one because I wanted to see if Darlington is finally rescued, but I can't see myself continuing the series when more come out.

Interesting, human-centered take on the disease-wrecks-civilisation story, with a hopeful ending. The representations of the human need for belonging and the world building were excellent. I liked the protagonist.

On the flip side, the writing didn’t strike the chord for me, though that may be a matter of taste. The temporal to-and-fro structure didn’t keep me as interested as a more linear storyline might have. I didn’t like the thread of the famous guy, which took up too much novel real estate in my opinion.

Succint, to the point, and clear explanation of all of the groundwork that an individual investor needs to lay in order to get started in the world of personal finance. It doesn't cut corners and tells the reader all that she needs to understand. There are quite a few points it skates over, and this is a good thing, because the reader is assumed to be a beginner (which I am). I loved the language Pete used in this to make it completely accessible, and the fact that he did not condescend to the reader either with layers of metaphors posing as simple explanations.

There are actionable points at the end of every chapter, and for once I did not find these to be gimmicky like I sometimes do with self-help style books.

Not bad, just very slow. The finale is not what I expected, but I guess it is what the main characters deserved. I really thought that at least Asta Sollilja would end up with a brighter future, but her fate is bleak and broke my heart. Bjartur - nothing really could redeem this man who puts his silly pride before the lives of others. I disliked him from the start. Putting his selfish and rude demeanor down to an intense desire to be independent just did not cut it for me. Humans are made to be social and to survive together - no man is an island. I suppose the point of the novel is to prove this, and it does that well. It is very difficult to write a loathesome character and still elicit some shred of empathy for him by the reader, but when his house was taken away I felt a twang of pity.

The depth and the complexity of the writing kept me reading, the emotional lives of the characters often striking a chord within me that made me feel seen by the author, even as someone from a vastly different place and time than the characters. There is something universal about the human experience that was captured by Laxness in the lives of these miserable sheep farmers.

At first I thought this would end up as a DNF, mainly because of a tight library deadline on it. The more I read, though, the more I realised that this is almost a kind of emotional education on others, as well as being (of course) about negotiation. It's often hard for me to understand and deal with the emotional lives of others if they're directed at me, and this book gives you some of the tools to be able to do that. I found myself having little revelations about human behaviour throughout, and the book has given me a lot to think about, both in terms of how I approach emotional conversations, and in terms of business and work. The stories did not get repetitive, and I'd venture to say that I'd even read a full hostage negotiation stories memoir by Chris Voss.

The reason it is dragged down a little is that for me it was a battle to get through this book for some reason. I was avoidant of it. Not really the book's fault, since the writing was engaging.