Spiritomb
This is extremely intense and gripping in comparison to other BSC books in the series. I had to stop several times to emotionally process it. Abuse is very well researched and described in an age-appropriate way that still presents it with nuance. I didn't feel like this book was preachy or contrived at all.
I could not put this book down. The author researched for this book extremely well, and I felt like Emily and Claire had an immense amount of depth as characters. I really enjoyed that Claire's religion was a motivator for accepting Emily as a woman, too, because I think I've read only one other book where a strongly religious character believes that their religious teachings mean they should be supportive of LGBT people. Emily felt like such a real person to me while reading. I'm really glad this book exists.
I majorly question a non-trans author's intents when the word “transgender” or any variation of it is absent from a book about a trans person. At no point in the story is it ever said that there are other people like the narrator (other trans girls). I also find it extremely disheartening that more than half of the reviews on Goodreads for this book refer to the narrator as “he” and as a boy and they think that it's fine to do that to a trans girl.
If this book were meant to help trans kids, it would have had the word transgender in it, or some mention of the existence of transgender people that makes it clear that the narrator isn't the only trans person in the world. This is a book written so that non-trans folks can feel good about themselves for sympathizing with a sad trans girl, while still calling her “he” and a boy.
What I enjoyed most about this book is that the narrator actively views his autistic sister as a person with thoughts and desires, which is a trait that many books about autistic people lack. Moose advocates for his sister Natalie in the face of his mother believing that Natalie can become indistinguishable from typical people.
The only thing I didn't like about this book was not contained in the narrative itself but in an afterword. The afterword by the author describes autism and then goes on to stress the importance of intensive behavioral therapy for autistic children, which seems at odds with the narrative's theme of accepting that an autistic person like Natalie who is not “indistinguishable from peers” deserves respect of her interests and feelings. Intensive behavioral therapy would involve taking Natalie's buttons away (as seen in the book). Moose returns to Natalie her button collection whenever possible, because he realizes that there is nothing inherently wrong with Natalie finding enjoyment from reading indexes and from touching and organizing buttons–unlike Mrs. Flanagan, who tries to stamp out Natalie's interests with what is very likely to be the kind of intensive behavioral therapy the author advocates in the afterword.
This book is a valuable resource for anyone who is looking to learn more about asexuality or who is asexual themself. Though I already knew much of the information (I've been involved in asexual communities since 2004), I was never bored and I never found the writing tedious. Decker's writing style is clear and engaging. I'm very pleased that I own this book.
I overall enjoyed this book. The pacing was good, and I identified strongly with the narrator while reading. The only thing I didn't like is that this book unfortunately has the trope of girl-with-borderline-traits-hurts-everyone-and-is-therefore-an-irredeemably-bad-person. While said character exhibits a lot of controlling and abusive behavior, I feel like her character was very flat, and the book could have benefitted from showing more of the character's vulnerability.
The ending of this book is incredibly sweet and I was smiling giddily when I finished.
I'm in love with this series and I can't wait to read more. I'm in love with the art style, with the presentation of all different kinds of women, with the use of famous women's names as expletives (“What in the name of Juliette Gordon Low!”), and with the very adorable budding romance between two of the girls. I can't wait to read more.
This was such a cute story! I overall enjoyed it very much. I liked the setting being like Victorian England, with magic, much less racism, and more acceptance of lgb & trans people. I think that there is room for improvement with regard to developing the setting better, since I only gleaned it from the particular class structure of the country where the story takes place. I think that more description of how magic in this world works would also be good, because I wasn't clear on what the rules were. Overall, Bashe tells a very heartwarming story about girls finding friendship and love.
I related very strongly to Caitlin as an autistic person. I was very much like her when I was 11. What keeps me from rating this book 5 stars, however, is Erskine's presentation of autism as a behavioral spectrum from “high” to “low” functioning, and her broad endorsement of early intervention. Autism is not a linear spectrum, nor is it a behavioral spectrum: it is a spectrum in that every autistic person has different skill sets that often vary and fluctuate throughout the autistic person's lifetime. Erskine's broad endorsement of early intervention is irresponsible and reflects a lack of research into what autistic adults have been saying about the extremely negative effects ABA and other behavioristic therapies (any therapy with “make the autistic kid act neurotypical” as a goal) had on their self esteem and general well being (often in the form of developing PTSD). The goals of early intervention should be to help the autistic person learn more about herself & the world and to develop self-advocacy skills, not to make her act like a neurotypical person. An endorsement of early intervention that does not take this information into account is irresponsible and dangerous.
This book was incredibly gripping. There were some minor spelling errors, but none that distracted me too much from the story. The pacing toward the end suddenly speeds up in a way that felt unnatural to me while reading, which didn't do the end-events justice. I give this book four stars because it's a story that needs telling, and because as I was reading, Rachael felt extremely real to me. Rachael's character was extremely well-developed. I chose to read this book because I was looking for YA books about trans girls that are actually narrated by trans girls, and I was not disappointed!
This was the textbook used in my undergraduate classical mechanics course around 2009. This textbook is written with immense clarity and is suitable for independent learning. There are many worked examples in the text, and the conceptual explanations are also excellent. I highly recommend this text for undergraduate upper-level physics, either as a primary textbook for independent learning or as a supplementary textbook to augment a student's understanding of mechanics in conjunction with their course's primary textbook.
I found the story extremely difficult to follow. The author deliberately tries to disrupt readers' assumptions about the main character's gender, but I believe that her attempts to do so did not come from a place of understanding trans and nonbinary people's experiences of gender. I felt like the exercise was intended for people who aren't trans. I felt like she was using trans & nonbinary people as rhetorical objects.
I was hoping to read more of Carly's account of her life prior to spelling and her skill development after learning spelling. I was disappointed that most of the book is her father's writing and her father's narrative.
I was shocked to read Carly's father's account of leaving Carly out of vacations, not because I was surprised that a parent would do that, but because he wrote about it as if he didn't regret it. In later chapters, he makes it clear that he does regret such choices, but I wish he hadn't presented those choices as if they were in accordance with being a loving parent. It's not loving to think of your child as an inconvenience, ever. No matter the disability, your disabled child's disability is much more difficult for them than for you. Period. I had to skip several of the chapters that took place prior to Carly's learning to spell because I couldn't stomach her father's seeming lack of empathy in those chapters. (And neurotypicals say we autistic people lack empathy...)
I gave this book three stars because the chapters taking place after Carly's learning to spell do demonstrate her father's empathy, and his remorse for having thought of her as a burden.
I look forward to when Carly Fleischmann's own book, which she writes about in the epilogue, is released.
This was the textbook in my classical electromagnetism course in my undergraduate physics program. Griffiths is a gifted educator and the clarity of the text is unsurpassed by any other physics textbook I've used as a student, with the exception of John Taylor's Classical Mechanics. Conceptual explanations are paired with worked examples and I can say with certainty that this textbook deepened my understanding of vector calculus far better than my calc III course. I have very fond memories of this textbook and the course.
Dawkins has a very superficial understanding of the theistic arguments he writes about, and a very poor understanding of how to write an argument. He restates atheist arguments that have been around for 400 years, and doesn't think it necessary to address theists' objections to them. His argument that agnostics bend over backwards to please theists is unsubstantiated. From that evolution doesn't require god(s) to explain it, it does not deductively follow “gods don't exist.” Such metaphysical claims as “gods exist” and “there are no gods” (also: “events have causes”) are unfalsifiable and therefore not a possible subject of scientific inquiry. His claim that every “true” scientist was a secret (or public) atheist is also unsubstantiated.
If I could have given this book zero stars, I would have.