She wonders how terrifying it felt . . . looking at the sea, feeling like she was at the very end of it all. She wonders what it was that made her
She wonders how terrifying it felt . . . looking at the sea, feeling like she was at the very end of it all. She wonders what it was that made her realize there was somewhere else to go.
While The Wedding People wasn't a perfect read for me, it certainly was a darn special one.
Phoebe has always wanted to go to the grand Cornwall Inn in Newport, and now she is finally here. But it isn't at all the vacation she spent years dreaming of. For one, she isn't going with her husband because he is no longer her husband. For another, she didn't bring any luggage because, well, you'll have to read the book for that. And just as she has resigned herself to her decision, she unexpectedly meets the wedding people, all there to attend a week-long celebration. Soon she is swept up in their exuberance and drama, and just maybe this is the vacation she was meant to take after all.
This is definitely one of those books you read for the journey, not for the outcome. It's pretty clear right from the beginning where this story is going to go, because how else would you have a story at all? To follow Phoebe as she meets these strangers, see how they touch her life at exactly the moment she needs it, while she in turn touches theirs, brings a lump to my throat and a flutter to my heart.
There is something so inherently loveable and relatable about Phoebe, even if we have not all suffered the exact same terrible setbacks in life that she has. Her candidness and vulnerability seems like a breath of fresh air, inviting the reader into her heart and her mind, and we have no choice but to follow along.
No doubt Phoebe has been through a lot, more than anyone can be expected to endure. And yet, there is a quiet bravery and courage in how she approaches her life and in how the author chose to portray her. I can see how at the hands of a lesser wordsmith, this story could've easily turned maudlin or preachy, but no such fears here. For a story about such sad topics, I felt remarkably buoyant and hopeful while reading this.
There was so much heart and humor in here, I was often nodding and laughing along, surprised at all the little nuggets of wisdom and joy to be gleam from these pages. If I were someone who marked up books (which I would never, the sacrilege!), I suspect I would've used up an entire highlighter trying to capture all the worthy lines.
I mentioned this wasn't a perfect read for me because while I particularly loved the beginning and the end, I did feel the middle sagged a bit. At times, it was a little overly long and meandering, with dialogue that was a bit too clever and may be verging on glib. And yet, the story continued to draw me in, even if the pacing wasn't quite even throughout.
I will say, I think this is a story best enjoyed with a reader's full and undivided attention. Often it feels like there were a multitude of things going on at the same time—the rapid-fire dialogue on the surface, the emotions underneath, and the wisdom to be sussed out if looked carefully. Unfortunately, it's hard for me to find solid chunks of uninterrupted reading time nowadays, so the book did lose some of its potency for me read in bits and pieces, a few lines at a time, especially in the middle there. But that's really my bad and not the story's fault.
I feel like the most resonant books are always the ones that address the human spirit—its unfailing desire to endure, to belong, to love and be loved, and to find meaning. And if you can sprinkle in a dash of humor along the way, all the better. Well, if that's the case, then one cannot ask for a better story than this.
Is this a thriller? Is it speculative fiction? Or is it a good old fashioned romance disguised within an interesting premise? Well, The One turned outIs this a thriller? Is it speculative fiction? Or is it a good old fashioned romance disguised within an interesting premise? Well, The One turned out to be all of those and more.
When it comes to love, the world is a changed place. Now you can take a simple mouth swab and find your genetic soulmate. No more awkward first dates and uncertainty. No more wondering if the person you're with is the one. And for five people, receiving news of their match is only just the beginning. What follows is surely a lifetime of love and happiness, so what can possibly go wrong?
When I went into this, I didn't know anything more than what's in the little blurb above. And because of that, I can safely say this story surprised me at just about every turn. What started out as a fairly standard tale, albeit one with an unusual premise, soon turned into a wild ride.
Often with speculative fiction, I'm a little wary. When a premise is really good, sometimes it feels like the story has nowhere left to go, and what's in my head is so much more exciting than what I actually end up reading. But no such fears here, folks. This book really takes its premise and wrings every last ounce of possibility from within it.
I don't want to give anything away here, so I'll just say this is such an unusual story. Where it goes isn't at all where I thought it would go. And embedded in it all is what feels like a warning of sorts, like hey world, don't get too reliant on technology to the exclusion of good ol' common sense. Or perhaps, if it's too good to be true, then it probably is.
Maybe the only quibble I have with this is that it follows five separate characters, and they remain separate for the entirety of this story. Usually with multiple points of view, even if they start out on different narrative threads, they do eventually come together, so I was a bit surprised that they didn't here. It means the whole thing felt a little less cohesive than I would've preferred, and I didn't quite get that satisfying narrative unity at the end. But it's really a small quibble.
I just love stories that can surprise me, and this one certainly did. It's fun, intriguing, at times even a bit horrifying, and it thoroughly kept my attention. I'm a little late to the John Marrs party, and this is my first book by him, but it for sure won't be my last.
Bet you don't hear me say this a lot about thrillers, but here's a fun one, everybody!
Meredith McCall is a psychiatrist dealing with her own personalBet you don't hear me say this a lot about thrillers, but here's a fun one, everybody!
Meredith McCall is a psychiatrist dealing with her own personal tragedy. In the midst of her grief and guilt, she can't help but be drawn to the one person who must understand how she feels. When she sees him one day on the street, she feels the impulse to follow him. But what starts out innocently enough soon turns into something more. And when he shows up in her office as a patient, Meredith knows it can't possibly be a coincidence. Can it?
I pretty much judge psychological thrillers by two criteria—how riveting they are and how much eye-rolling they induce in me. Obviously, I want maximum of the former while keeping the latter to a minimum. And this story totally ticks both boxes.
I think the word unputdownable gets thrown around a lot when it comes to books, but this one definitely fits the bill. In fact, I dare you to pick it up and then try to put it down. There's something so eminently readable and binge-worthy about this story, and I couldn't help but want to read just one more page.
In terms of twists, I think that gets made into a big deal with this genre. But whether you'll be surprised here will probably depend on a few things, namely how many other books of a similar vein you've read. There are usually only a few ways such a story can play out. And since I've read a bunch, I wasn't that surprised. But it didn't take anything away from the story for me and I enjoyed it nonetheless, regardless of the surprise element.
If you're going to read this book, it's probably best to go in blind as is the case with any book of this genre. But maybe the one thing to know to set expectations correctly is that under the big umbrella of psychological thrillers, this bends heavily towards romantic suspense. While it isn't a romance, it does have heavy sexual undertones and some spicy scenes, which totally makes sense since Vi Keeland is an author known first and foremost for her romance books. In fact, this looks to be her first foray into the thriller genre, and if it's anything to go by, I definitely can't wait for more.
I don't know, you guys. This feels more like a crazy fever dream or maybe a drug-induced trip than a proper romcom.
Delphie has unexpectedly died. As iI don't know, you guys. This feels more like a crazy fever dream or maybe a drug-induced trip than a proper romcom.
Delphie has unexpectedly died. As if that isn't surprising enough, she comes face-to-face with her soulmate in the waiting room of her Afterlife Therapist. But before she can fully introduce herself to the dreamy man, he's sent back to Earth with no recollection of their meeting. Now Delphie has just ten days to find him on Earth and get him to kiss her, or else she will remain dead forever.
You got me with that premise. It's undoubtedly intriguing, with loads of potential for the story to go every which way, all of them interesting. But almost from the very start, it felt like something was a little bit off, and I just couldn't shake that feeling throughout the whole story.
When I'm reading a romcom, my criteria isn't that high. I'm looking for banter, lots of sparks, and adorable characters I just want to squish and cheer for. But this story didn't really have any of that. I kept waiting and waiting, and eventually we reached the end.
Instead, this felt more like a zany slapstick comedy, where the heroine kept almost getting what she wanted, but through a variety of strange coincidences, all of them rather cringey, she does not. She almost runs into the man of her dreams, but she has a wardrobe malfunction that exposes her nether regions. She almost runs into him again, but instead has to draw a naked woman. She almost runs into him a third time, but alas, misses him by minutes and has to dance the hand jive on stage in front of dozens of strangers. Like, what? And this kept going on and on.
But what about the characters? Surely our heroine is sweet and loveable? Well, she's quirky, I'll give you that. And also rude and snippy. But for reasons unknown, the recipients of her ire all want to be her friend. They constantly invite her along to everything even though she has rejected them for years. The thing is, if someone were rude to me over and over, I wouldn't want to be their friend. But hey, I'm just a cold-hearted reader, so what do I know.
Okay, but surely there is sparks and tension galore? Well, no on that front too. I didn't feel even a blip of chemistry anywhere in this story. Delphie is just her usual mean self to our main male character, and he takes it like a champ and still lusts after her.
The one thing that's meant to make Delphie seem more sympathetic to readers is her relationship with her next door neighbor, Mr. Yoon. But that was a miss for me too. The whole thing gave off a weird vibe. She kept treating him like a child who didn't know better even though he's just an old man who can't talk.
So there you go. I suspect someone played a joke on me and swapped my copy of the book with one titled The Love of My Rudelife. Because that's the only explanation I have for why I didn't enjoy this book that everyone else so clearly adores.
Okay, lots of thoughts on this one. Going to try to unpack them all here.
The God of the Woods starts out really well. I found the beginning to be compOkay, lots of thoughts on this one. Going to try to unpack them all here.
The God of the Woods starts out really well. I found the beginning to be compelling, with lots of interesting characters and perspectives. But then as the investigation into Barbara's disappearance heats up, a few things started to really bother me, and it went a bit downhill from there.
When it comes to verbosity in a book, readers generally fall into two camps. For some, if they love a story, then stretching it out an extra hundred pages by filling it with lots of beautiful writing but no additional content makes it even better. But for me, my motto is always shorter is better, and fluffing it out to pad the page count doesn't do it for me. So you see where I'm going with this.
What starts out as compelling quickly turns meandering for me. The longer the story went on, the more unfocused it seemed. There are a lot of perspectives in here—I count seven—and every time something was about to happen, we immediately switched to a different perspective, effectively losing the momentum. And when we come back to the original one, the exciting scene had already happened off-page and it's mostly glossed over.
But it isn't just the perspectives, which I honestly don't mind that much. It's also how unnecessarily convoluted the mystery was, in large part due to the way it was written. Every time the police needed to talk to a witness, that person would inevitably end up missing. So we would have to spend time tracking them down just to have a conversation with them. In addition to the two disappearances which are central to this story, I counted no less than six other characters who disappeared at one time or another. It was exhausting.
Surely though, once these witnesses are found, they would be able to answer some simple questions, right? Well, no. Everyone in here lied every chance they had, often for no reason that I could discern and against their best interests. It felt like drama for drama's sake, making the mystery feel even more tortuous and chaotic. You know, just in case the reader thought it was too easy or there weren't enough pages in this book.
My other big issue is that the author has a real knack for writing dumb female characters. It drove me a bit nuts in Long Bright River and here it is again. This time, we have Alice and Louise, two of our main characters, both being portrayed as spineless fools. You guys know I love my female characters to be strong and smart, so to have to read about women who let people walk all over them while making one bad decision after another got old real quick.
Then after all of that (almost 500 pages), this mystery had to be one of the most unsatisfying I've ever come across. Clues were laid out seemingly to point to one direction or another, but then the story disregards almost everything it had said before and ends on something completely different. And some of the clues were never addressed at all, as if they've served their purpose to mislead us and now we can just forget about them.
Still, for all my complaints, I did find this to be a fairly engrossing read. There were many moments I got really into it, and the pages just melted away. But there were also many moments where I could not believe yet another character has disappeared or Alice and Louise are yet again being dumb and weak, and I could just feel my eyeballs rolling around in exasperation.
Clearly I'm in the minority here. Everyone else is loving this, so you shouldn't take what I say too seriously. Sometimes there is just a mismatch between a reader and a book, and that's probably what happened here.
Elin Hilderbrand's final Nantucket novel, Swan Song feels like both a fond farewell to her book franchise, as well as a love letter to the island thatElin Hilderbrand's final Nantucket novel, Swan Song feels like both a fond farewell to her book franchise, as well as a love letter to the island that is her cherished home.
Chief of Police Ed Kapanesh is set to retire. But before he does, he has to get through one more summer in Nantucket. Of course there's no chance of smooth sailing. Trouble arrives soon in the form of a new couple who comes to town, and they immediately take the island by storm, stirring up all sorts of drama and intrigue.
What is it that makes Elin Hilderbrand's books so irresistible? Is it her plot or her characters? Or is it that Nantucket is an aspirational place for most of us, filled with seemingly wealthy and beautiful people with nothing better to do than soak up the sun and stir up drama? So to step into these stories feels like a break from normal life, a vacation of sorts. Or even better, a staycation without the hassle of having to leave the comfort of one's couch.
And Hilderbrand definitely understands and plays that up. Her stories always have that light, playful, conspiratorial tone, inviting the reader into the exclusive lives of these Nantucket elites. She never takes the stories and the characters too seriously, and the result is the perfect dose of fun and escapism.
Hilderbrand lives on Nantucket year round and knows the island inside and out. And you can feel that in her stories. All the local restaurants and beaches and gathering places she includes adds so much authenticity and charm to the whole thing, and it makes you want to visit Nantucket. In fact, now that Hildebrand is done writing Nantucket stories, maybe their tourism board can just scoop her up since she's pretty much already doing that job.
One thing to note is that the blurb makes this seem like a mystery, but it isn't really. Coco disappears off of a boat, and we alternate between the police trying to figure out what happened and the events leading up to it. But that's rather misleading because it implies there are suspects and motives and clues, not to mention a denouement that explains it all. But none of that really happened here. So just make sure you don't have the wrong expectations going in.
The other thing worth mentioning is that I didn't really like any of the main characters. Now that isn't necessarily a deal-breaker for me, but in this case, I feel like I could've connected with the story just a little bit more if I did. Initially, Coco and Kacy were both interesting, but then as the story went on, they started to annoy me a bit with their inability to communicate and make good decisions. In other words, they were both rather immature, and then you add in the Richardsons, and at times, this felt like a story about a bunch of teenagers rather than adults. But that is a small quibble since I obviously had a lot of fun with it.
Oh, one last thing. This is marked as part of a series, though I've only read one other book in it. I neither felt like I was missing out on the ones I haven't read, nor did I feel like the one I did read contributed anything substantial to this. The books in the series share some similar characters as they take place in the same Nantucket universe, but it isn't necessary to read all of them (or even one) prior in order to maximumly enjoy this one.
There's definitely a bittersweet feel to this final book. But fortunately for me, I am rather late to the Elin Hilderbrand party. I only discovered her a few years ago, though she has written 30 books. So even though she may be done with Nantucket, I still have many more of her books to go before I have to call it quits.
When I think back to The Soulmate Equation, one of the things which stands out most vividly in my mindLook at me, turning into a Christina Lauren fan.
When I think back to The Soulmate Equation, one of the things which stands out most vividly in my mind is Fizzy. In fact, I'd wager to say she is probably the most memorable supporting character I've ever come across in a romcom. She's sassy, fun, and so sharp with a comeback, it brought an undeniable zing to every page she was on. So it's particularly exciting that CL decided to bring Fizzy back and make her the star of her own story.
Of course, when authors revisit a character, there is always the fear that what made the character so special in another book doesn't translate to the new one, that the magical essence somehow gets lost. But I'm happy to report that nothing got lost here, ladies and gentlemen. Fizzy is just as scintillating and irreverent as ever, and I very much enjoyed her journey of finding her happily ever after.
The premise of this story is certainly an interesting one. I don't watch much reality TV, but I've caught a few episodes of dating shows while flipping through the channels and getting inadvertently caught up in the drama. After all, there is a reason they're so wildly popular. So I was definitely curious to see how Fizzy's dating show would shape up, and it ended up being a fun and unique one.
I will say though, I've noticed CL has a habit of writing scenarios for their main characters that are somewhat questionable and unethical, and it happened again here. The whole point of a dating show is to enter into it to find a potential mate, and you can't do that if you're already having a side relationship. This is especially true if you're the star of the show, as it makes it incredibly unfair to the contestants who are dating you. This was even mentioned in the story by Fizzy and Connor as being a part of Fizzy's contract. And yet, the book never goes on to address this moral quandary and mostly glosses over it by making everyone happy for the couple, including the contestants.
Another thing that struck me is that CL is two white authors writing a Chinese American main character, which seems a bit tricky. But they did tread gently, and as a result, struck a good compromising note. If you're looking for a book on anything related to the Chinese American experience, this isn't it. The book doesn't dive too deep or really at all into that. But honestly, I feel like that's the right call, as anything more would've probably come off as forced or inauthentic.
Thoughts and quibbles aside, I really did have loads of fun with this story. Was it a bit cheesy and drawn out towards the end, with a third act breakup that totally mystified me, as in the way of most romcoms? Yes. But that doesn't detract from how overall entertaining it was. I just gobbled it up, all the while having a big, silly smile on my face.
I never thought the day would come, but that's two Christina Lauren books I've enjoyed back-to-back. If that isn't a sign that I need to read more from this author duo, I don't know what is. The only question is, which of their 30 books should I go with next?
It's always awkward when I'm considerably less enamored with a book than everyone else, so I apologize.
Looking back on this, it's clear my expectationIt's always awkward when I'm considerably less enamored with a book than everyone else, so I apologize.
Looking back on this, it's clear my expectations were not set correctly going in. I thought I was getting a traditional murder mystery, where we the readers follow along as the investigation unfolds to catch the killer. Along the way, what the detectives know and what we know are pretty much in sync. But that's not the case here.
Here, the book opens with the crime being committed and we know exactly who did it and how it happened. Then the book alternates between scenes of the police investigating and the killers as they try to evade suspicion. But since it's mostly what we already know, I was bored out of my mind. And this continued for the first three quarters of the book.
It doesn't help that the police "investigation" is laughable. If a suspect can't provide an alibi, then they immediately fall under suspicion. But if they can provide one, then they fall under suspicion too. Huh? And this kept happening, over and over. In fact, the police zeroed in on their prime suspect simply because it felt too convenient that they should have an alibi for the time in question. My eyes sure got a workout from rolling so hard.
My other issue is that the titular Detective Galileo, who turns out to be just a private citizen that the police consult, kept meddling and interfering. The book is written such that the reader can't help but sympathize with the killers. We meet them first, after all, and get to know them the best. So to have to follow along as both the police and a private consultant bungle around, botching things up for our favorite characters, is rather annoying.
The book does eventually get very good in the last quarter, but it's a bit too little too late. While the denouement is certainly interesting and unlike anything I'd read before, its effect was dulled by the considerable amount of slog it took to get there. And I have to mention how much I didn't like the very end, which felt like a slap in the face after everything I had read.
Obviously, I am in the minority here. Everyone else I know loves this book, so you should take my thoughts with a grain of salt. I always rate based on my personal enjoyment, and for a book that put me in a slump, I think 3 stars is about fair.
So let me get this straight. Anytime you tire of your current husband, you can just send him off to the attic and a new one will appear? Hmm, you don'So let me get this straight. Anytime you tire of your current husband, you can just send him off to the attic and a new one will appear? Hmm, you don't say.
I can't resist a good premise. And this is undoubtedly a compelling one. But what starts out as a fun and possibly thought-provoking read just kept going on and on, for far too long.
Initially, this had all the markings of a terrific speculative fiction. It drew me in almost immediately, and it wasn't long before I was turning the pages as fast as I could. Lauren's situation, though not one I've personally encountered thank goodness, is surely something that most of us could relate to. And not only that, but I had gone in thinking this was a serious read, and when it turned out to be more of a fun romp than anything else, I certainly wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth.
But at some point, I started thinking to myself, where is this all going? The more I read, the more I wasn't sure. Usually, books drop hints along the way to help guide readers toward the intended direction and destination, but this book remained distinctly rudderless. Lauren just kept happily switching husbands and we were taken along for the ride.
Then as the story continued, it started taking on a rather unhinged vibe that I just didn't know what to do with. Instead of progressing the way I expected, with Lauren slowly gaining insight into her life, she went the other way and started becoming crazier. I felt like I had been dropped into some sort of slapstick comedy routine or possibly the twilight zone.
This is a problem I've seen before, and it's especially noticeable in books with as enticing of a premise as this one. The author writes a terrific start and middle, building up and building up... into something. But what, that's the question? And more often than not, it feels like the author themselves don't know either.
And that's such a shame. The story does eventually reach a conclusion, but there's no real journey for Lauren or us readers to get there. Rather, we are just dropped at the end, and that's about it.
I wanted more from this. I was hoping for something profound, or at least a little bit insightful and interesting. But premise aside, this didn't really get there.
I hate to say it, but Tom Lake feels like a lot of nostalgic vibes and not much else.
When I first dove in, I thought for sure this story would grab meI hate to say it, but Tom Lake feels like a lot of nostalgic vibes and not much else.
When I first dove in, I thought for sure this story would grab me. We're introduced to Lara right as she comes upon that prescient moment when she realizes she'd make a better Emily than all of the girls auditioning, and so begins her brief foray into the world of acting. It's a captivating vignette and a scintillating way to kick off the story.
But alas, it's not meant to be. For slowly but surely, as we intercut between scenes, it dawns on me that this is the dreaded dual timeline. And while not all such stories are duds, chances are good that if a book employs it, one timeline always ends up being way more interesting than the other. And that's what happened here.
You see, Lara and her husband are on their orchard, and their three grown daughters have come home to help them on the farm while hunkering down for the pandemic. The daughters want to know more about their mother's earlier life, and so she's telling them the story of her past.
The crux of the problem is that anything remotely interesting is happening in the past. Lara's stint as an actress, the people and the situations that surround her, her romance with Duke, while all compelling, attribute to only one of the two timelines. Regrettably, this compelling narrative is constantly interrupted by what's happening in the present, with so many scenes of the daughters picking cherries while arguing about their own interpretations of their mother's history. And that just didn't interest me at all.
It's almost as if the book is mirroring Our Town, the play mentioned within, by having the present timeline serve as its Stage Manager character, providing commentary and meaning for the past timeline. But that isn't necessary, and instead of adding to the story, the present only detracts from it.
The writing doesn't help. It has this unedited, rambling, somewhat roundabout style that a lot of literary critics would fall all over themselves to describe as subtle and reflective, but I would just call much ado. It works fine when the subject is interesting, but when it's not, you've essentially combined fairly dull prose with a humdrum plot.
I understand what this book is trying to do. It's taking a collection of prosaic, everyday happenings in the present, reaching back through the strands of time to tie it to the glorious possibilities of youth, and hence elevating the whole thing to be insightful and profound. But it didn't really achieve that. All it did was make me nostalgic for a bygone time. And while there's nothing wrong with that, I need a little bit more to really enjoy a story.
~~~~~~~~~~~~ See also, my thoughts on: The Dutch House ~~~~~~~~~~~~
I'm always drawn towards stories about plagiarism. You write 'em, I read 'em. And the ones I like best tend to be a little bit tongue-in-cheek and satI'm always drawn towards stories about plagiarism. You write 'em, I read 'em. And the ones I like best tend to be a little bit tongue-in-cheek and satirical, inviting you to see the world through the plagiarist's eyes. After all, they're not really bad people, are they? They see a story that needs telling, and they're the ones to tell it. So what if the story isn't theirs to tell in the first place?
And so Yellowface enters that arena with its own take on this eyebrow-raising topic. And right off the bat, I'm intrigued. June is an interesting plagiarist-protagonist. She starts off as a writer struggling for relevance, and that struggle is something we can all relate to. It's not as if she decides to become a plagiarist overnight. No, it's a slippery slope of small decisions, each one understandable on its own, that ultimately lands her in such an ignoble profession.
Once I started, I couldn't put it down. June's voice is as compelling as it is grotesque, and it's hard to look away from such self-inflicted catastrophe. You know this isn't going to turn out well, and yet she just keeps going. The best satires always elicit a lot of wincing, and that definitely happened here.
I don't mind telling you guys that this story made me uncomfortable. And I'm sure that is R.F. Kuang's intention. June isn't some crazy thief, at least not initially. Rather, she's drawn as this morally ambiguous, somewhat sympathetic character. In fact, from certain angles, she looks almost downright reasonable, making the best of what she's got. And this sly characterization leaves the reader both fascinated and uneasy, for we feel drawn towards June even though she is the villain of this tale. And that cognitive dissonance stays with us throughout.
The first half of the book was particularly strong for me because of that perfect balance between hero and antihero. There's a lot of subtlety that allows June to be both appealing and repulsive. However, once we get to June's book release and her subsequent guilt and justification, it does start to take on more and more of a crazed tinge, and as a result, lost a lot of the subtlety that made the first half so compelling for me.
There is a lot packed into this little story: racial commentary, inside look at being a writer and the publishing industry, internet trolling, cultural appropriation. And it's all done seamlessly. I have to applaud the author for both not being afraid to wade into these interesting topics, as well as saying something of substance about each of them.
What a fascinating story this turned out to be. Subversive and uncomfortable, it really drew me in and kept me glued to the pages. If you're looking for something that's both eminently readable and also leave you a lot to think about, this is it.
I was no longer a child. I didn’t have the luxury to be one—that had been taken . . . by hunger, by exhaustion, and by the constant fight for survi
I was no longer a child. I didn’t have the luxury to be one—that had been taken . . . by hunger, by exhaustion, and by the constant fight for survival.
A riveting and harrowing tale set during the Communist Revolution, Daughters of Shandong gives an intimate look into the perilous journey a mother and her daughters must embark on to escape Communist persecution after being abandoned by their family for not having produced a male heir.
I think this is one of those stories you can immediately tell is inspired by true events close to the author. It is too raw and too heartfelt to be mistaken for anything else. Eve J. Chung must have done so much meticulous research in order to piece together her personal family history as well as historical accounts of what was going on during this time. And the result is a seamless blend of fact and fiction that brings history to life.
At its heart, this is a story about love and resilience, and there is so much of both in here. I dare you to read it and not feel deeply moved. How anyone could have endured so much suffering and grueling hardship, then persevered in the end, is truly awe-inspiring. It reminds us that no matter how bad things are, there is always hope for a better tomorrow, especially for our children.
Reading this book makes me want to reach out to my parents and hear their stories. They grew up during the Cultural Revolution, and unlike the characters in this story, did not escape. They had a front row seat during their childhood to all the fear, famine, and turmoil. And I still see in them the legacy of this suffering to this very day, which makes what they have achieved, mostly to give me the opportunity for a better future, all the more amazing.
It also reminds me of just how precious the bond is between a parent and a child. The lengths Chiang-Yue went through for her daughters is beyond words. And it completely resonated with me. Is there no despair we would not endure and no hardship we would not gladly take on, if it meant our children's survival and happiness? Even if we have reached our limit, we will find within ourselves an even deeper well from which we can draw strength and courage we did not know we had in order to do all that we can for our children.
What a heartbreaking, but ultimately triumphant celebration of the strengths of mothers and daughters this story turned out to be. It is as searing as it is memorable. Even though Eve J. Chung has now done what she set out to do and told her family story, I hope she doesn't stop here.
I feel like this is a book best read two or even three times, because just once left me rather confused.
Looking at the title of this book, perhaps youI feel like this is a book best read two or even three times, because just once left me rather confused.
Looking at the title of this book, perhaps you'd immediately guess that it's about two things: a murder, and the end of the world. And you would be right. And as is usually the case when a book is about two things, one ends up being more successful than the other.
The first half of this story focuses on the end of the world, and that was my favorite part of the book. I was absolutely riveted, turning the pages as fast I could, trying to figure out what was going on. There was this rather sinister feeling throughout, as if you know something wasn't quite right, but you can't put your finger on what exactly. And the more we learn, the stronger that feeling got. I totally ate it up.
Then about halfway through, we arrive at the murder as well as some revelations about the end of the world, and that was truly a satisfying "ah ha" moment for me. It was the highlight of the book, and so much of what had been hinted at thus far slotted into place.
But soon after, it started to go off the rails a bit. I went from being absolutely glued to my seat to quickly losing interest. I think it's because we switched into murder investigation mode, and that arc just wasn't as compelling. There were so many details and people, too many to really keep track of in my head. I kept forgetting who the characters were and how they related to each other. As small revelations appeared, only to twist upon itself later, then twist upon itself again, I just could not keep it all straight.
And not being able to remember really hindered my enjoyment. There were so many moments when a character would mention a fact or a relationship, and I would have to pause, desperately searching my memory for this morsel of information I should've known, only to come up empty. These pauses really took me out of the story and prevented me from being fully immersed in the mystery.
The other thing that constantly felt a little bit off was the story's simultaneous use of the 1st person and 3rd person narrator, which I've never seen done before (maybe with good reason). I kept being vaguely confused, uncertain if we're reading about a character's true feelings or our omniscient narrator's interpretation of them. And maybe there is no real difference between the two at the end of the day, but that dissonance gnawed on me.
I'll be honest, I think the writing and editing contributed to these issues. The story isn't that far off from being easier to understand, if only some of the more convoluted plot developments were pared back and the writing polished up for clarity. It's a shame the book went out the door as is, so close to being amazing and yet falling short of that lofty goal.
It seriously pains me that I can't seem to give Stuart Turton's books more than 3 stars. His premises are always amazing, and there is so much potential embedded in the pages. And yet, the execution is just a smidge too complicated and tortuous, leaving me feeling like I've gone through several rounds of plot-gymnastics rather than just being able to sit back and enjoy the stories for what they are.
Still, that being said, it's not going to stop me from reading more of Stuart Turton's books. So there you go.
"Are you that cruel of a son, to stand there and watch your helpless parents wither away when all you have to do is marry a billionaire?"
Ahh. Whil
"Are you that cruel of a son, to stand there and watch your helpless parents wither away when all you have to do is marry a billionaire?"
Ahh. While The Notorious B.I.G. may have popularized the phrase "Mo Money Mo Problems," Kevin Kwan has turned it into the anthem of his stories.
I do have to say, there's no feeling quite like cracking open one of Kwan's book. You know you're in for a scathing good time, one that will transport you to wealthy and dazzling locales full of rich people and their rich people problems (wink wink). In fact, I try to save his books for when I'm jet-setting around the world (yeah right), spending the benjis like nobody's business (only in my dreams).
Okay, in all seriousness, while this may seem like a superficial romp at first glance, it's actually so much more. It's a social satire that strikes at the heart of our materialistic society and also Asian cultures and families. At times, it's so spot-on with its searing critiques, I marvel at their execution all wrapped up in this riveting tale.
In order for a satire to succeed, it must never lose sight of the characters' humanity. Otherwise, all we have is a bunch of caricatures without any soul. And this book gets it right. Even though the Countess of Greshamsbury, our "villain" of the story, perfectly embodies the worst of a social-climbing, guilt-tripping, shrilly opportunistic mother, she is also strangely sympathetic. I understood her need to secure a good future for her children, however misguided her actions may be.
But it isn't just one or two characters that stands out; it's all of them. Every main and supporting character in here is interesting and likable, and together, they imbue the scenes with their allure and charm. It adds an undeniable sparkle to the story, making each and every page a joy to read.
As I was going through this book, I kept being impressed by all the details in here. I imagine Kevin Kwan must have done extensive research into art, fashion, and architecture in order to infuse the story with so much authenticity. It adds yet another layer of fun to the reading experience to be able to look up many of the people and things referenced in here.
Recently I've been shying away from light and fun reads. It's not that I don't love them. In fact, escapist reads are my raison d'être for reading in the first place. But it feels like so many of the books I've picked up lately confuse light with boring, as if low stakes is somehow the same as no stakes. So it's refreshing to find a book that gets the balance right.
Kevin Kwan truly has an inimitable style. His stories are fun and frothy, but never frivolous. His characters are memorable. And his portrayals are so sharp and astute, they often leave me laughing and wincing in equal measure.
~~~~~~~~~~~~ See also, my thoughts on: Crazy Rich Asians ~~~~~~~~~~~~
Honestly, you guys, I read this so you don't have to.
What the heck happened here? Was the author high when he wrote this? Do I also need to be high toHonestly, you guys, I read this so you don't have to.
What the heck happened here? Was the author high when he wrote this? Do I also need to be high to understand it? Because the entire time I was reading this, I kept waiting for someone to jump out of the bushes and tell me that it's a joke, that they're pulling my leg, because this was such a hot mess I'm having trouble believing it's for real.
Let's start with my biggest issue, which was the writing style. There was something really strange and off-putting about it. It felt impenetrable on purpose, there to maximumly confuse and confound the reader. And I'll tell you what, it succeeded.
The dialogue in particular was incredibly affected and obtuse, almost to the point of incomprehensibility. Often, one participant would make a "witty" remark about something random, then the other participant would parry back with something equally "witty" and baffling, and we'd go back and forth. Obviously no real people talk like this, so it makes the characters all seem ridiculous and full of themselves.
But it wasn't just the dialogue. Almost every description and scene felt overly theatrical and bombastic, to the point of pretentiousness. At times, we even got stage directions and setting of the scenes, as if we were in some sort of dramatic play instead of prose. To say I was puzzled is an understatement. Why would the author choose to write in this way?
The pace was excruciatingly slow. Almost nothing happens for a long time. You could conceivably skip the first 100 or even 200 pages without having missed anything because nothing really happens until the last few chapters. And this book has a lot of pages (400) and chapters (100), so you're in it for a long time.
The mystery itself has potential, but it's so buried under how the story is written that it's hard to take it for what it is. By the time we get to the reveal, I feel like someone had been messing with me for so long, I couldn't muster up enough excitement to care about what was happening.
The whole time reading this, my primary feeling was one of bewilderment. Bewilderment at the bizarre writing style, bewilderment at the long length, and bewilderment at the lack of editing and polishing that somehow sent this out the door.
Perhaps the author had an idea, went to write it, and proceeded to write himself into a corner he could not back out of. While I wasn't a fan of A.J. Finn's first book (unreliable narrators aren't my usual jam), I could still see its appeal to others. But not so much with this one. My suggestion is, if you're a fan of the author's first book, it's probably best to pretend this one doesn't exist and just wait for his next one.
How do you rate a book that doesn't quite deliver on its promise, and yet is still a riveting read?
Told through the perspectives of three generations How do you rate a book that doesn't quite deliver on its promise, and yet is still a riveting read?
Told through the perspectives of three generations of a family, Real Americans follows Lily as she finds the love of her life, Nick through his high school and college days as he gains independence, and Mei in her old age as she recounts what really happened all those years ago.
Of the three accounts, I feel like Lily's and Nick's boil down to coming-of-age stories, no matter how you try couch it in fancier, more racially-interesting terms. And I think that's where my mismatched expectations resulted in some disappointment. I was expecting more of a deep dive into what it means to grow up Chinese-American, but this only just scratches the surface.
The book tries to tackle so many worthwhile subjects—what it means to belong, a mother's love and expectations for her child, immigration and assimilation, having wealth and privilege, affirmative action, racism. You name it, it feels like it's in this book. If you're thinking to yourself, wow that's a lot, yes it is. And maybe that's the problem.
With so many topics, how do you achieve a meaningful look into any one of them? Well, I'm not sure you can. You can only superficially acknowledge them for a few pages, or even just a paragraph here and there, and that's about it. Every time I came across an interesting observation, I'd get excited, only to have the book immediately abandon it and move onto the next thing.
Throughout the whole story, there is this feeling that the good part is coming and I'm imminently about to stumble upon it. And this feeling propelled me through the book. I kept turning the pages, waiting with anticipation at what were sure to be astonishing revelations. But they never really materialized to my satisfaction.
I did find Mei's portion to be the most interesting and compelling. Hers was more than just a coming-of-age tale. She talks about what it's like to grow up during the Cultural Revolution, at a time of famine, when neighbor turned on neighbor, and every sort of intellectual aspiration was viewed as a punishable offense. I can't help but be drawn towards this part of Chinese history. It was the defining event of my parents' youth, yet they hardly ever talk about it.
The other interesting part of Mei's tale is the focus on the science that is central to this book, especially the ethics of gene editing and selection. But here again, it feels like the story got just close enough to tantalize, then immediately backed off, as if afraid to take anything other than a superficial stance on a potentially controversial topic.
I did want to mention the writing style. It came across as rather choppy at first, with lots of random observations and intense bursts of information, all the while keeping the reader at arm's length emotionally. It was a bit jarring initially, but then I hardly noticed anymore after a few chapters. So either I acclimated to it or the writing smoothed out. Either way, if you're having trouble at the start, don't let it prevent you from going a little further.
The entire time reading this book, I could feel the potential. There was this electric buzz that at any moment, this was going to become an amazing read. And it almost got there, but then somehow it didn't. Underneath this riveting story, there is a missed opportunity to really say something new and insightful about a host of worthwhile topics. Instead, this book skirts around them, giving brief nods to all but never more than that.
Can a book survive on nothing but banter? Well, Funny Story sure tries.
Okay, all you rabid Emily Henry fans. Before you chuck your rotten eggs at me, Can a book survive on nothing but banter? Well, Funny Story sure tries.
Okay, all you rabid Emily Henry fans. Before you chuck your rotten eggs at me, please let me explain.
If ever there was an Emily Henry book that I should connect with, it's this one. Daphne is a librarian (my dream job) and she's in a pretend relationship with her roommate, Miles, in order to get back at her ex-fiancé (an intriguing premise). And yet, something was missing. I kept waiting for the story to grab me, and it never really did.
I hate to say it, but the crux of the problem is that the whole thing was rather forgettable. I only just finished the book, and already I hardly remember anything about it. The characters, the interactions, even the conflicts, while all feelgood on the surface, were in fact fairly bland underneath.
I enjoy a low-stakes beach read as much as the next gal, but there is a difference between low stakes and no stakes, and this was too much in the latter. At no point was there anything really on the line. The story just shambled along, with lots of banter and some minor conflicts here and there, until the requisite 300-some pages were met, and then it was called a book.
Speaking of the conflicts, I totally didn't understand Daphne and Miles' issues, or even Daphne and Ashleigh's. Do people really get so upset and potentially break up relationships and friendships over such small issues? And each one, blown up to be so important, can only be resolved after much back and forth, with pages upon pages of dialogue of each person's feelings and the associated parental trauma that was at the root of all their misgivings. It was a bit much.
Don't get me wrong, I did have fun. There were entertaining moments, and the banter was truly top notch. And it wasn't just for the main couple during romantic moments. No, the banter was interspersed everywhere and among everyone, so we got plenty of chuckle-worthy moments.
But you can't just sustain a story on banter alone, no matter how delightful it is. When the characters feel as lackluster as Daphne and Miles and their conflicts equally bland and forced, it was hard to care either way if they ended up together, which is always a bad sign in a romance.
I feel like I'm the only person out there who doesn't get heart-eyes at the merest mention of an Emily Henry book. My experiences so far have been largely underwhelming, or maybe I just haven't read the right books by her. Either way, I'll add this to the pile of Emily Henry books I've pretty much forgotten the moment I finished.
Exquisite and mesmerizing, The Fox Wife kept me enchanted from the very first moment to the very last.
Told through the alternating perspectives of BaoExquisite and mesmerizing, The Fox Wife kept me enchanted from the very first moment to the very last.
Told through the alternating perspectives of Bao, an aging investigator with a penchant for sniffing out the truth, and Snow, a mysterious lady on a quest to avenge the death of her child, this story sits at the irresistible intersection of historical fiction, mystery, and folklore.
Secrets and questions abound in here. Who are these characters? What do they want? And how do their paths cross through so many years and miles of tribulations? Add to that a main character who is not quite human, as well as the singular backdrop of the wintery world of Manchuria during the last years of the Qing dynasty, and the scene is set for a tale unlike any I've come across before.
I'm always drawn towards folklore, and the hallmark of a good one is the seamless blending of the real and the fantasy. You don't want to get mired in the weeds of the how's and why's of this slightly altered world, but you also don't want to just be dropped in the middle of what feels like an artificial construct. And this story achieves that balance flawlessly.
With so much of the story riding on its animal characters, there's the fear that it can come across contrived or, even worse, silly. But the foxes in here feel so real, as if these creatures really do live in our world, coexisting among us in disguise and leaving havoc but also wonder in their wake. In fact, the portions of the story told from Snow's perspective were the most evocative, and I found her to be vivid and compelling.
Snow's quest to avenge her dead child struck something in me. The quiet and reflective prose that Yangsze Choo so deftly wields adds this soft dignity to Snow's plight, and the end result is so emotionally resonant, I felt it deep within my heart. Her grief and anger were so raw and sharp, yet her continued strength in the face of such tragedy makes her the sort of strong female character I love and cheer for.
One of the most surprising and delightful additions in here were all the little nuggets of fox wisdom. Of course if the world were seen through the eyes of an animal, their life experiences and their way of thinking would be different from ours, resulting in unique insights. And these little morsels were dispensed at the most pertinent times, leaving me nodding and chuckling along at their undeniable wisdom and humor.
When I finish a book, there are two distinct feelings I can have. Either I'm happy to be done and excited to move on to something else, or I feel a sense of melancholy that I've reached the end of a magical journey and there's no more. And this book falls squarely in the latter. I could've easily gobbled up another 400 pages of this and it still wouldn't have been enough.
What an epic and memorable tale Yangsze Choo has crafted. The story itself often speaks of foxes beguiling humans into falling in love with them, yet I can't help but feel as if it were the story that has cast a spell on me, and I were the one who was beguiled all along.
In Origin, Edmond Kirsch is about to announce a discovery that will change the face of science and religion forever. Before he can do so, crazy thingsIn Origin, Edmond Kirsch is about to announce a discovery that will change the face of science and religion forever. Before he can do so, crazy things happen, and it's up to our professor Langdon to step in and make sure this discovery isn't lost forever. The premise is outstanding, though it immediately made me weary that the book can't possibly deliver on such high promises. And it doesn't really, though parts of it were entertaining enough.
For me, the part of the book that was most interesting and actually paid off was the mystery surrounding who is working against Kirsch to prevent his announcement of his discovery. Towards the end, I could guess what was going on, but it was still satisfying to read the full explanation.
Otherwise, the book was quite boring and slow. The problem is that Brown includes every little detail of everyone and everything, so that often we are treated to multi-page-long explanations of irrelevant art, buildings, religion, science, and history. Kirsch's discovery is a video, and it is described in its entirety in the book. Broken over two sections, it felt like 100 pages of the book went into covering it. I wish Brown had just summarized it, along with the rest of the irrelevant info he included. It easily could have cut the book down by half.
It also has short chapters which cut in and out between different characters. So just as you are getting into what is going on with one person, it immediately switches to a different person. It feels like I'm constantly trying to get into the book, with my attention pulled many different, sometimes pointless directions.
And as for Kirsch's discovery itself, just keep your expectations low. To be honest, I'm not sure why anyone would be upset by it, whether they are atheists or religious people. Or why anyone would want to hurt Kirsch or prevent him from making it public. After all the buildup, it's an understatement to say the discovery was completely lacking in epicness.
Maybe Dan Brown and I no longer mesh. His books are so well-received, yet whenever I read them in recent years, they feel so tedious to me. While there are parts of this book that are interesting, I can't help but compare how this book actually turned out to the promise of how amazing this story could have been, and it just fell short....more
In theory, I love Greek mythology. Who isn't drawn towards stories of bravery and tragedy, all wrapped up in strong characters and epic battles? But iIn theory, I love Greek mythology. Who isn't drawn towards stories of bravery and tragedy, all wrapped up in strong characters and epic battles? But in reality, I'm starting to flag a bit with the recent ones I've read, and I'm trying to put my finger on exactly why.
Going in, I didn't know anything about Atalanta and was surprised to learn that she was a part of the Argonauts on their quest for the Golden Fleece. It's always interesting to experience a well-known tale through the eyes of a different character, and Atalanta offers an undoubtedly compelling perspective, especially being the only female in the group.
But the quest for the Golden Fleece is just a part of Atalanta, though arguably its most exciting part. It's prepended by her being left in the forest as a baby and growing up into the huntress that she is, and postpended by what feels like a long wrap-up in which she figures out what to do with her life. And these two bookends just didn't quite capture my attention the same way, especially the former.
To be honest, even the quest for the Golden Fleece somehow wasn't as epic as I thought it would be. At one point in the story, Atalanta even mentions that it feels like she was just a spectator on the sidelines, watching Madea help Jason take the Golden Fleece by witchcraft rather than through a fair fight.
And maybe herein lies the problem. By and large, the women of Greek mythology have always felt a bit like supporting characters, there to bolster the men's stories. So to take one woman, especially when it's a lesser-known one without a lot of content, and make a whole book's worth out of her may be stretching it. No matter how great of a writer Jennifer Saint is, she is still at the mercy of the source material and can only embellish so much.
Don't get me wrong, I found Atalanta's story to be interesting. But it was so mild compared to the grand vision I had in my head of what a heroine in Greek mythology should be. I wanted more for Atalanta, more adventures and more epicness. But as it stands, her story probably would've worked better for me as a novella or even as a series of vignettes rather than as a full-length book.
Still, I'm a sucker for feminist retellings, and since Jennifer Saint has positioned her books as exactly that for the unsung heroines of Greek mythology, I'll continue to read whatever she writes, even if I end up wanting more than what I'm given.
~~~~~~~~~~~~ See also, my thoughts on: Ariadne Elektra ~~~~~~~~~~~~