Susan Scribner
I wish this book had focused more on singer-songwriter Neko Case's music career, but that can't be understood apart from her dismal childhood that featured a neglectful father and a withholding mother - so withholding in fact, that she disappeared for several years and let second-grader Neko believe that she had died of cancer. Music was Neko's primary escape from feelings of emptiness and worthlessness. She found it easy to perform onstage because it wasn't much of a risk for someone so insignificant to put herself out there.
Case's narrative is like her lyrics, which have been described as idiosyncratic and cryptic. I hope the audiobook consists Case using her “120-mph fastball” contralto voice to sing all 265 pages. Whether you're familiar with her work or not, her story is unforgettable.
I haven't read any of the In Death novellas, but I checked this one out because it introduces a key character who resurfaces in the February 2025 release [b:Bonded in Death 211004040 Bonded in Death (In Death, #60) J.D. Robb https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1715100468l/211004040.SY75.jpg 217233227]. Roarke was pretty heavy-handed in 2009; I'm glad he has chilled a bit since then.
Journalist and filmmaker Zeinab Badawi admits that it's impossible to write a complete history of a continent in 450 pages, but she presents an impressive sample of notable African cultures, kingdoms, accomplishments and individuals, from the first homo sapiens through the African independence movement. The countless names and places overwhelmed me at times, but the author's passion about the material keeps it from becoming dry.
I'm sorry that none of this information was included in my 20th century World History textbooks. I'm even more angry and heartbroken that few if any American public schools will feel safe adding this book to their libraries in 2025.
Pub. date 4/22/25
I usually spend several hours editing and polishing my GR reviews, but I'm going to go straight from the heart on this one because it's so freaking good and I want everyone to put it on their TBR shelves.
Like the best fairy tale adaptations, the plot is familiar, but the appeal lies in its lyrical writing, strong sense of time and place, and memorable characters. MC Benigno “Benny” Caldera starts the story alone, an asthmatic Puerto Rican without family or friends who barely gets by on his Brooklyn dockside blacksmith wages. By the exciting climax, he has been befriended by the sideshow's “oddities,” fallen passionately in love, and evolved into a genuine hero who organizes a daring rescue of his beloved. The merman, dubbed by Benny as “Rio,” is noble and beautiful, furious about his captivity but quickly able to discern Benny's pure soul. There's not a lot of nuance to their relationship, but when the two of them sing Spanish love songs to each other my heart grew three sizes. Although I knew there was a happy ending, my anxiety level spiked as the moustache-twirling villain tried to permanently separate them, then settled back down to appreciate the word-perfect finale.
At a time when we need it the most, this book celebrates those who are labeled as “other,” whether they are a queer immigrant, a land-stranded merman, a Russian giant, or an Indian little person. One of the female carnival performers is put through more trauma than a silent movie heroine, but she too emerges on top (CW for forced prostitution).
Kelley's enchanting writing is accompanied by beautiful illustrations that emphasize the early 20th century feel of the story. A number of the drawings were not completed in time to be included in my ARC copy, but you can be sure I will seek out a published version to get the full benefit.
When the Tides Held the Moon broke my months-long fiction dry spell, and I know it will go on my comfort re-read shelf (except for the nerve-wracking denouement). If you are looking for a cheesy but sincerely romantic novel that feels both period accurate and timeless, grab it as soon as you can.
ARC received from publisher and Net Galley in exchange for review.
3.5 stars. Bonded in Death's prologue is a flashback to a meeting of The Twelve, a disparate group of underground spies operating during the fabled Urban Wars that predated the In Death series by four decades. The character introductions felt like the beginning of a classic Nora Roberts paranormal Good vs. Evil trilogy (e.g., The Circle, Sign of Seven, The Guardians). So I was not surprised when Roarke's perpetually disapproving butler Summerset turns out to have a connection to the murder victim, who was once The Twelve's cyber expert. But while the killer's motives are indeed related to the Urban Wars, the remaining members of The Twelve are curiously sidelined during the investigation. Of course this is an Eve Dallas case, but it felt like a crime to minimize these aging but still intriguing warriors in favor of another one of Jenkinsons' ugly ties and more Peabody/McNabb house porn. I hope we will see them again, perhaps in a spinoff prequel series (doubtful).
But overall, In Death #60 is another solid entry. My reading tastes have changed a lot in 30 years, but this series has held my interest through thick and thin. There's nobody like Nora, and I stand in awe of her achievements.
Talk about doomscrolling! Dorian Lynskey's book catalogs the numerous ways that the world might end, as portrayed in fictional media from Lord Byron's 1811 poem “Darkness” and H.G. Wells' [b:The Time Machine 2493 The Time Machine H.G. Wells https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1327942880l/2493.SY75.jpg 3234863] and Emily St. John Mandel's amazing [b:Station Eleven 20170404 Station Eleven Emily St. John Mandel https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1680459872l/20170404.SX50.jpg 28098716]. The book is thematic rather than historic, but Lynskey asserts that the predominant cause of the apocalypses reflects the general anxieties of the era. Robots were first popular between the world wars, when the threats of fascism and communism invoked the fear of all-powerful machines without hearts. In the wake of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, and again in the 1980s at the height of the nuclear arms race, nuclear armageddon was ascendent. Once we understood how viruses are transmitted, mad scientists unleashing contagious diseases proliferated. Lynskey is an engaging writer, but he gets a little too much into the weeds on some topics. I didn't need a refresher on the Manhattan Project to appreciate nuclear war themed apocalypses, and knowing who first coined the term “survivalist” didn't deepen my appreciation for [b:The Road 6288 The Road Cormac McCarthy https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1600241424l/6288.SY75.jpg 3355573]. But the longer it took me to read, the more I was able to avoid doomscrolling the current US descent into chaos.
I already knew a lot of the dirt that journalist Liz Pelly dishes about music streaming giant Spotify in this book. To wit: most musicians are paid almost nothing when their songs are streamed, and in fact they have to agree to reduced royalties if they want their music to be promoted. The app harvests tons of data about its consumers, which is then sold and used to target ads as well as for other, more nefarious purposes. Some of the music on Spotify isn't even real - it's computer generated to mimic successful songs or match a given mood.
Honestly, what really shook me was realizing that Spotify has taken something special that people actively seek out, and turned it into a series of algorithmically-determined playlists so users can engage in passive “lean-back listening,” letting Spotify soundtrack their everyday moments (every night too - sleep playlists are very popular). Instead of Apple Music or Amazon, Spotify sees its competition as something much broader: silence. Any minute you are not listening eats away at the company's $1.5 billion profit.
Mood Machine is well-written and researched, if just a tiny bit dry. It could have used a few more interviews with musicians whose careers have been affected by Spotify, although I imagine the fear of reprisal might have kept them off the record. Pelly's solutions are similar to those of any group suffering under late-stage capitalism: artist collectives, community organizing and unionizing, even local libraries. You know, all of the things that are looking more and more like pipe dreams in 2025.
3.5 stars. A somewhat uneasy mix of goofy rom-com and issues-driven drama, especially given its publication on the same day that DT declared the end of Constitutionally-guaranteed birthright citizenship. On the one hand you have two clueless Latinx bros, BFFs since childhood, engaging in a fake marriage of convenience and catching feelings. On the other hand, you have deadly substance use, family separation, intimate partner violence, and the looming threat of deportation. The plot is weakened by a cartoonishly evil ex whose increasingly desperate manipulations strain credulity. But I kept turning the pages because the two MCs are absolutely lovely, showing with gestures how much they understand and care for each other, even if their words are not quite there yet.
I suspect that I would have been able to enjoy the book much more if had been published a year earlier, but I couldn't help thinking of the real people whose lives will be devastated by new draconian immigration policies that can't be solved by a wacky escape plan. No fault to the author, of course.
N.B. MC1 is autistic and MC2 has ADHD. Reyes identifies as queer and autistic.
Publication date 3/11/25
Jane and Dan have been married for 19 years, and although they are on their way to a super swanky restaurant for their anniversary dinner, they are pretty much going through the motions. In fact, Jane is planning to tell Dan that she wants a divorce. She has barely broached the subject in the middle of the appetizer course when a group of masked, assault-weapon-wielding activists invade the restaurant, confiscate everyone's cell phones, and demand complete compliance with their orders. That's scary enough, but then the surprise identity of one of their captors raises the stakes exponentially. But even in her terror, Jane starts to notice that the situation feels familiar - because it's almost identical to the plot of the one (failed) novel she published six years ago.
Jane and Dan is a weird mash up of marriage-in-peril drama, suspense thriller, and wacky satire. I know it's just a novel, but I'm on edge these days and easily offended. In particular, the POV chapters from a bumbling police deputy who is excited to experience his first real crime (including a gunshot wound and everything!) made me see red. Similarly, without spoiling anything, the ultimate fate of the activists demonstrates either the author's naivete or her privilege.
If I were feeling more charitable towards the world, I would note that Oakley does an decent job of showing how Jane and Dan gradually remember why they love each other as they work together to avert the worst-case scenario. There's a heartfelt message about learning to trust that your kids will be okay even if you can't protect them 24/7 anymore. And the final reveal of why life is imitating Jane's art is undeniably clever (if incredibly far-fetched).
Maybe I should stick to non-fiction for a while. I'm not able to put aside my anger and fear long enough to get lost in someone else's story.
ARC received from Net Galley and publisher in exchange for review.
I love books that change the paradigm of how I see an issue, and Relinquished accomplished that emphatically. The anti-abortion movement has positioned adoption as the logical alternative in a post-Dobbs world. However, most of the birth mothers sociologist Gretchen Sisson interviewed* were not choosing between abortion and adoption. In fact, many of them considered themselves “pro-life.” They wanted to parent their babies, but lacked material resources and faced unrelenting pressure to relinquish them. The adoption industry and right-wing evangelical Christians branded them as selfish harlots if they chose to keep their babies, but lauded them as self-sacrificing, brave goddesses if they relinquished. There was little to no effort to help them make an informed decision, and pretty much no emotional support once they had fulfilled their role ([b:The Handmaid's Tale 34454589 The Handmaid's Tale Margaret Atwood https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1488552336l/34454589.SY75.jpg 1119185], anyone?). There's a lot of money changing hands in the adoption industry, but very little of it reaches the pregnant women. As one birth mother said: If they took the money they spent telling me how empowered I am for giving up my kid, just a small part of that money, and gave it to me when I was pregnant, I would actually have been empowered to raise her.You would think that the process would be better now, with birth mothers having more access to their children through open adoptions. Surprise, none of the agreements between adoptive and birth parents about frequency or duration of contact are legally binding, and many birth mothers found themselves shut out of their children's lives after a brief “honeymoon” period. Sisson summarizes her findings and provides cultural context (don't get her started on Juno). She has empathy towards adoptive parents, but points out the frequent economic disparities between them and birth parents. The first-hand accounts from the birth mothers themselves are stark and unforgettable. They are full of grief, anger, determination, regret, hard-earned wisdom, and numerous (likely futile) pleas to change a very flawed system. *71% of Sisson's interview subjects were white, and she admits that her “snowball” recruitment methods make it difficult to generalize her findings to women of color.
3.5 stars. After several well-regarded YA books ([b:Darius the Great Is Not Okay 37506437 Darius the Great Is Not Okay (Darius The Great, #1) Adib Khorram https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1520460519l/37506437.SX50.jpg 58014975]), Adib Khorram turns the heat up to 11 in his first adult romance. In fact, the numerous sex scenes between Farzan and David, as well as the food and wine descriptions, crowd out the actual romance. Yes there is an unusual meet-cute, a friends-with-benefits-catch feelings, and a brief (page-wise) third act breakup. But I wanted more sweet moments, like the MCs watching My Big, Fat Greek Wedding together or Farzan's two besties teasing him about his lovesick facial expressions. YMMV if you want the details of the dickings, or if you can identify a wine's grape, region, and vintage from a few sips. And props to Khorram for setting the story in Kansas City, a delightful place that deserves to known for something other than its (American) football team.
I can understand why Sarah LaBrie doesn't focus her memoir exclusively on her mother Kimberly's serious mental illness. Although the passages describing the beatings Sarah endured as a child and Kimberly's paranoid, psychotic behavior are horrifying (as is the rest of her family's denial of her illness), Sarah isn't defined solely by those Mommie Dearest moments. But the sad truth is that LaBrie's life just isn't that noteworthy otherwise. She's struggling to write a novel, she has mixed emotions about her best friend's rising fame, she can't understand how her white boyfriend radiates such steady confidence. (He's a white man, Sarah. ‘Nuff said.) The information about philosopher Walter Benjamin that is incorporated into her narrative gives off serious MFA thesis vibes but feels out of place.
I give LaBrie major props for exploring the complicated relationship between Black people and the mental health profession. But there's a lot of filler for a brief 200-page book.
Six astronauts aboard a space shuttle have thoughts about Life, the Universe, and Everything during the course of one 24 hour period. They observe a gigantic typhoon ravage the South Pacific islands, and gaze wistfully at the moon, knowing that four other astronauts are on the verge of making the first crewed lunar landing in 50 years. All of this is conveyed with beautiful descriptive paragraphs, mind-boggling lists (there are 540 hours of morning exercise in a single nine-month mission, etc.), and a bit of characterization. You either like this stuff or you don't. The folx over at the Booker Prize are obviously big fans.
I'll admit that the banter between Maggie and Ethan made me chuckle a few times. And the author pulled a clever “gotcha!” at the halfway point, transforming my urge to slap Ethan silly for his general smarminess into a desire to give him a big hug because Reasons. But overall this book reminded me of why I dislike 97% of M/F contemporary rom-coms. Maggie thinks she is worthless, the result of parents who ignored her and then died when she was 18, a cheating sack of shit ex, and a manipulative former BFF. She rarely leaves her apartment or interacts with another human other than her kindly editor/mentor. Yet her self-esteem issues are magically cured in less than a week by Ethan telling her that she is wonderful. Of course I want my MCs to be supportive and caring, but having Ethan erase 30 years of psychological injury with a few heated looks and assorted attagirls makes my feminist blood boil.
It's possible I'm overthinking this harmless piece of fluff.
Remember how we all envied the two runaway kids in [b:From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler 3980 From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler E.L. Konigsburg https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1327784751l/3980.SY75.jpg 1384549] who hid out in the NY Metropolitan Museum of Art? It turns out that it's not quite as much fun when you're in a dystopian future. Thirteen-year old Nonie lives with her older sister, father, and a small band of scientists on the roof of the American Museum of Natural History in a city ravaged by floods and fires. When a typhoon destroys their home, Nonie's family and their friend Fuller escape in canoe that was built for a Native American museum exhibit. Their eventual destination is a farm in western Massachusetts where Nonie's late mother grew up and where her aunt may be waiting. As a relative newbie to post-apocalyptic cli-fi, I can't compare All the Water in the World to other books in the genre, but as a fiction lover I can say that it is well-written and compelling, with a distinct voice. It took me a while to engage with the plot, as the first 30% is heavy on flashback scenes of the family's life before they came to “Amen.” But once they set off on their expedition, the pace escalates and doesn't let up. The scene in which Father and Keller argue about the best way to get to the Hudson River through flooded streets is both realistically New York and apocalyptically horrifying. This is not a book for the tender-hearted or squeamish; the travelers face deadly threats of both the natural and human kind , and not everyone survives. Nonie reads as a person with autism, whose pragmatic narration is a factor of both her neurodivergence and the traumas she has experienced. She doesn't have the luxury of expressing her emotions for most of the journey. As with any good speculative fiction, it's unfortunately very easy to see how we could get from where we are now to the dystopia that Eiren Caffall imagines (especially in light of the current Los Angeles area wildfires), but at least she ends her story with some hope for humanity's new beginning.
One of the easiest 5-star ratings I've bestowed in more than a decade of GR reviews. Surrealistic metafictional screenplay about the Chinese-American experience and racial stereotyping in general, told with anger, sadness, and humor. I devoured the whole thing in a few hours but it will linger in my mind for much longer. One of the few prestigious literary prize winners (National Book Award, 2020) that IMHO is both accessible and worthy of the honor.
N.B. I understand that there is now an Interior Chinatown TV series streaming on Hulu. I have not seen it, and I'm not sure I want to watch anything that could potentially blemish a perfect reading experience.
Pretty basic stuff for an old Boomer rom-com fan, but if Esther Zuckerman's book gets at least one Millennial or Gen Z'er to watch Barbara Stanwyck and Henry Fonda in 1941's The Lady Eve, she deserves a special place in Heaven. Jimmy Stewart and Margaret Sullavan in The Shop Around the Corner or Cary Grant and Rosalind Russell in His Girl Friday would also be acceptable.
3.5 stars, rounded up. Loved the setting and the story, despite a number of plot holes. Nerdy queer academics with magic will never not be my catnip, thanks to Jordan L. Hawk's [b:Widdershins 16128152 Widdershins (Whyborne & Griffin, #1) Jordan L. Hawk https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1352121658l/16128152.SY75.jpg 21952704] series MC Percival Endicott Whyborne (Ival if you're nasty). I do wish the author had given her MCs a little more interiority; I never fully engaged with their life and death stakes because both were surprisingly chill about them. Maybe it is a Midwest thing. As Lea Thompson once said in a 90s sitcom, “I'm from Wisconsin. All we know how to do is make cheese and repress our emotions.” Hoping that book #2 improves on a promising start. Caroline in the City, 1995-1999
This debut novel gives off definite [a:Taylor Jenkins Reid 6572605 Taylor Jenkins Reid https://images.gr-assets.com/authors/1645653842p2/6572605.jpg] vibes; it is bingeworthy and just slightly literary, with a fictional famous woman the focus of the storyline (see [b:The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo 32620332 The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo Taylor Jenkins Reid https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1664458703l/32620332.SY75.jpg 46885151], [b:Daisy Jones & The Six 40597810 Daisy Jones & The Six Taylor Jenkins Reid https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1580255154l/40597810.SY75.jpg 61127102], etc.). I appreciated the idea of a multi-POV memoir, and the excerpts from the MC's post-apocalyptic bestseller were arguably more compelling than the actual novel. And thumbs up for showing that “WLW” can mean more than one thing. Fagan uses a strange mix of melodrama and detachment so that some of the story's tragedies feel life-changing, while others are almost shrugged off. The ending itself is muted, with longed-for reunions sketched briefly or set completely off page, as if Fagan didn't want the reader to run out of Kleenex. Or maybe it's related to the author's background in sports journalism, where the most essential information is front-loaded. Anyway, as Reese Witherspoon's January 2025 book club pick, this will no doubt be as popular as Cate Kay's fictional smash. Whether Fagan's novel will yield movies, musicals, and theme parks like its counterpart is yet to be determined.
Fun read after a recent trip to NYC. The author describes it as “a book about the subway packed with pictures and factoids to satisfy a reader with a short attention span,” but he also does an admirable job of showing how a system designed to be insulated from politics can be more accurately described as one that instead insulates politicians from any responsibility.
3.5 stars. The world-building in this queer fantasy romance was incomprehensible and the use of magic completely underwhelming. But the royal boy-meets-boy dynamic was a delicious mix of thirst and insta-love (I usually dislike the latter, but it's the eve of 2025 and I need something soft). Plus the ride-or-die relationship between Nicholas (“Coal”) and his younger brother Kris made my heart grow three sizes larger. Forget about the weird fantasy stuff; The Nightmare Before Kissmas gave me the best [b:Red, White & Royal Blue 41150487 Red, White & Royal Blue Casey McQuiston https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1566742512l/41150487.SY75.jpg 61657690] vibes I have felt since the original.
This might be the only time I recommend NOT reading the first two books of a trilogy before starting the third. The Arabella Tarleton we meet in Something Extraordinary is a drama-inclined chaos gremlin, but she is also loyal, clever, and caring. I know that character growth exists, but it's hard to believe that Belle is the same woman who spent Something Fabulous in a hysterical panic that culminated with her shooting a Duke. Or the one in Something Spectacular who selfishly demanded that her best friend test the waters with the person Belle wanted to fall in love with. Even the fact that Belle and Sir Horley Comewithers (!) are now apparently BFFs seems a little implausible considering that in Spectaular Belle kidnapped him and his fiancé to prevent their wedding (it was for his own good, but still).
But if you accept the fact that one of the most unlikeable characters I have encountered in recent years can redeem herself (without losing the core of her personality), you will enjoy Something Extraordinary. I give Hall props for reminding readers that HEAs can look very different from what we've been socialized to accept. Belle is pansexual (how did she get all of the experience she displays given her constant tantrums?) and aromantic, while Horley is “extravagantly gay” and yearning for a great love he is sure he doesn't deserve. The book features several sex scenes, but none of them are between the MCs. Yet the emotional bond that gradually forms between them is very touching.
The plot is a tad too episodic - Arabella and Horley tend to leap from the frying pan into the fire - but the arc of their relationship ties the misadventures together. As usual Hall's writing is witty, although his anachronistic meta references will madden anyone looking for historical accuracy (there's a Scooby-Doo reference, and a secondary character who solemnly shares that she is “Not Like Other Girls”).
I can't say that the Something Fabulous trilogy has been my favorite Alexis Hall series, but I recommend it to readers who can appreciate a story that felt more cognitively entertaining than emotionally satisfying.
Apologies for not including working links to the first two books in the series. Goodreads kept giving me error messages for Improper Content until I removed them.
Was it a millionaire who said, “Imagine no possessions”? - Elvis Costello, “The Other Side of Summer”
I already knew that John Lennon was no angel, but this brief memoir by John & Yoko's friend/assistant/babysitter portrays the Clever Beatle as a hapless narcissist who expected Mintz to be available 24/7 for jobs ranging from menial to impossible. Yoko was more capable but equally demanding, and obsessed with using psychics and numerology to guide her actions. In his nine year career as the Lennon-Ono's lackey, Mintz was asked to: find a NYC doctor to give the couple weight-loss injections (from LA); hire a PI to find a potential business partner's birth date so Yoko could vet him with her astrologist; give the millionaire Beatle a few hundo so he could gamble in Vegas; and accompany John on a nighttime spree to stop him from drinking, and report back on his behavior to Mother/Yoko. Mintz eventually had an extra phone line installed in his LA house so he would never miss a call from his overlords...I mean, friends.
The book is competently written, but Mintz engages in a LOT of name dropping, implying that his encounters with scores of celebrities were related to some personal magic, instead of being the natural result of hanging out with two of the most famous people in the world. He alludes to being estranged from his biological family, with John & Yoko serving as surrogate parents, but other than mentioning a few women (mostly nameless) that he slept with, he basically had no life outside of addressing their every whim.
I am somewhat regretful that I read this, but YMMV if you're not bothered by the warning to “never meet your heroes.”