
I genuinely do not get the review-bombing hate on this novella. I don't pretend to have great taste and I'm not really a snob about a lot of the issues other reviewers are complaining about, but I know what I like, and I really liked Automatic Noodle. This is probably an unhelpful review, because I have zero notes. If you want a "cozy", fun, quick read, and are actually willing to let your disbelief be suspended instead of nitpicking themes or judging the author on her Goodreads bio (really guys?), then I'd recommend checking this one out. :)
I had some misgivings at the start of this book, I'll be honest. I struggled with how Nina's character was written, and didn't love Big Eddie throwing the word "tr*nny" around, but once I realized this was one of Klune's earlier works, it was easier to cut him some slack as I kept reading. I'm really glad I did, honestly! This book handles grief expertly and intimately, and seemed to come along right when I needed it the most. I went into this one with the expectation "gay angel romance, this should be fun" and came away from it in tears that wouldn't stop. All of Klune's books have a lot of heart, but there's something special about this one, a depth that is alluring and strange and beautiful. It's unpolished, a bit rough around the edges, but that ended up making me love it even more. Overall, I'm just delighted to have read this book. I highly recommend if you're struggling with the loss of a loved one, or with grief in general.
The world was bigger than anyone could ever know. Maybe that was hardly a bad thing.
Palaver was the first audiobook I've listened to in a while, and the narration was flawless. I usually hate it when narrators do "voices" for the characters (part of why I usually avoid audiobooks), but André Santana did a phenomenal job bringing each character to life. I highly recommend listening to this book, rather than reading it!
This book is a great example of what I crave in queer fiction. Washington's characters and the setting were both so vivid! I feel like I've been to Tokyo now, and I already miss the main character's beautiful queer friend group. The evolution of the MC's difficult relationship with his mother was spellbinding in kind of a voyeuristic way, and genuinely made me hopeful for reconciliation with some of my own estranged family members someday.
In short: Washington nailed it. I can't think of a single thing I didn't like about Palaver. Definitely one of my top books this year-I have been ranting about it to anyone who will listen!
I have zero valid complaints about this book. A queernorm m/m fantasy based on Welsh folklore and history sounds like it was written specifically for me, so I had to get into it as quickly as possible. I don't usually read the first in a series unless there's at least another book out, so I was really cranky with the cliffhanger ending here, but that's on me for not paying attention! While reading Princeweaver, my only gripe was that I just found it difficult to really care about the characters until the second half of the book, but I think the series is headed in a great direction! Excited for book two. 🦊
Interesting take on the Tarot. Rachel Pollack infuses all her books with such genuine wisdom! Personally, this work did not resonate with me as much as it should have, as I'm very much a Tarot newbie, so I think it will be something to come back to later in the journey. I can definitely see how it would be tremendously helpful for experienced Tarotists in shifting some entrenched ways of looking at the entire system. Pollack urges readers to "play" with the Tarot, encouraging a sense of wonder, which is a refreshing break from studying formulaic meanings and structures.
This book is an incredible resource! I have a feeling I'lI be returning to it many times to review the impressive range of understandable explanations and insightful analyses of the cards that Pollack provides. I highly recommend this work to anyone who, like me, has struggled with other more formulaic or dense books on the Tarot.
I know Suzuki is viewed as controversial and problematic by traditional Pure Land Buddhists who believe in the Pure Land as a sort of “heaven”, similar to many Christians, but I enjoyed the way he writes immensely. Suzuki argues that the Pure Land is “right here, and those who have eyes can see it around them. And Amida is not presiding over an ethereal paradise; his Pure Land is this defiled earth itself.”
I don't know where I fall on that spectrum of belief just yet, but what I can say is that this is the most concise, clear explanation of Jodo Shinshu I have ever read. It may help that Suzuki directly compares and contrasts aspects of Shin Buddhism with Christianity- as a recovering Catholic, I found this really helpful. I wish I had read Buddha of Infinite Light a year ago, instead of starting with River of Fire, River of Water (╥﹏╥)
I highly recommend Suzuki's writing to anyone who is trying to get a fuller picture of the Shin tradition as a whole. He does not shy away from controversy, and explains his take on Jodo Shinshu in a forthright and simple manner.
This was pure cotton candy fluff, and I didn't love the writing, but got very attached to the characters as they grew. Needed much better copy editing, and the dialogue was a bit goofy in some parts; this read like an unpolished fanfic in a lot of ways. Definitely an insanely slow burn, but a nice break from the more intense stuff I have been reading lately!
“Why doesn't everyone long to rip a hole in the sky the way I do—to leave this shell of a world behind, to swim out into the starlight of infinite possibilities? To be free?”
Naomi Hughes' Starfire is surprisingly (and successfully) ambitious for a modern YA novel, packed with action, introspection, and so much heart. Seventeen-year-old Peregrine Kent is afflicted not only with a particular subset of OCD, but also by the sudden onset of cosmic dreams and a deep longing to see the sky beyond the barrier that surrounds his home planet. He begins a quest to find the source of his visions, accompanied by reserved submarine captain Z, his ultra-capable adopted sister Anthem, and their family dog. With mythical star dragons finding their way through the planet's shield, Per must work through his mental illness and unravel the secretive motivations of those around him.
Starfire reminded me why I enjoy YA; teen protagonists can experience so much with a fresh worldview that often is not obscured by the generalizations and emotional rigidity that accompanies adulthood. Hughes delivers a satisfyingly diverse story that contains the twists and turns of navigating OCD and family loyalty, with a delightful queer romance that doesn't overshadow the novel's plot. It was surprising to discover that Starfire's main character doesn't just experience harm OCD (a type of obsessive-compulsive-disorder in which vivid intrusive thoughts make a person feel as though they might cause harm to others), but also guides the reader gracefully through daily life with this illness. I have personally struggled with harm OCD, so discovering this type of representation in YA fiction was delightful. I wish I had read this story when I was seventeen.
Hughes is obviously a talented author, but a few things stood out to me during this read. There were a lot of similes, sometimes several on a page, and it was a bit jarring. Why does everything have to be compared to something else? Also, characters often dumped descriptions of others' features at times when no one would be paying attention to “dark bronze skin, wavy black hair that could star in shampoo commercials, and dark brown eyes”. If these descriptions had occurred a bit more gradually, the first half of this novel would feel a lot less like a wattpad fic. Finally: the use of sentence fragments. There were only a few, but they briefly ripped my grammar-loving attention from the characters and plot.
Overall, Starfire was a delight to read, and has become one of my staple YA recommendations. I sincerely wish there were more stories like this out there.
Cigarette Lemonade takes an unflinching look at two disillusioned twentysomethings who will not (cannot?) conform to the structure of American society. Dizzie, a desperate transgender woman, and Smoak, a hired gun, take a job moving drugs across state lines. The job goes well, until it doesn't.
The novella is a clear example of author Connor de Bruler flexing his literary muscles, but he manages to do so in the most understated way possible. His prose is sparse, with only the occasional flourish of metaphor. He demonstrates his mastery of the form with what he doesn't say, abandoning unnecessary descriptions of the main characters (we are left to imagine what they look like entirely). When he chooses to be descriptive, it is with visceral imagery of violence, and settings that seem to evoke loneliness and desperation.
Strikingly, although she is subject to bigoted scrutiny throughout the story, Dizzie's former name is never revealed, even when others call her by it. De Bruler gives us a transfeminine main character who has become hardened and capable by the necessity of her transition in less-than-progressive Southern areas, and it shows in every choice she makes. As crackdowns on trans individuals spread through the US, Dizzie is the unfortunate main character queer readers need. Her determination, toughness, and at times, poor judgment make her at once relatable and aspirational.
Reading Cigarette Lemonade was the perfect start to my summer. I hope the novella gets noticed, even studied for the way it deals with transgender characters.
(DNF) I would have enjoyed this a lot more if it wasn't so full of torturous BICKERING between characters. Not every messed-up decision warrants six pages of argument