Review: "Concrete" by Stephen Parnell

Concrete by Stephen Parnell
Published September 2026 via Bloomsbury Academic
★★★★

Here we meet the first of concrete's famous paradoxes: concrete is both inherently and simultaneously precise and messy, depending on the material's state and on one's viewpoint. (loc. 99*)

Back to my favourite nonfiction series! In Concrete, Parnell dives into...you guessed it...concrete. Parnell is an architect, so concrete is something he knows well, being as it is a major player in contemporary architecture. (My architect husband, when asked, described concrete as "almost like a mythical material" but said that he's against its use now, on climate grounds...but more on that in a moment.)

Much of this book is about architecture, and the types of architecture that the development of concrete has enabled. Brutalism is the obvious style, of course, but Parnell argues that concrete has a great deal more versatility than is often ascribed to it. I highlighted some lines because they interested me, but I highlighted many more because there were so many buildings to look up later (I'm particularly charmed by Ricardo Bofill's reinvention of a disused cement factory into a living and working space).

I was concerned for a while that the book would not touch on the climate impact of concrete, but of course I worried too soon: [Concrete] is responsible for about 8 percent of global CO₂ emissons, more than aviation (2.5 percent) and not far behind agriculture (12 percent). [...] if it were a country, [the cement industry] would be the fifth largest emitter (behind China, the United States, India, and Russia. (loc. 1418) Or, well, perhaps I didn't worry too soon, because I knew concrete wasn't great for the environment, but I didn't know the numbers were so damning. Or consider this:

One recent study estimated that 14 percent of the United States' and 60 percent of China's coastlines are now made of concrete. (loc. 1431)

What a grim image! Concrete has its place...but it's time to consider other, more environmentally friendly options.

Thanks to the author and publisher for providing a review copy through NetGalley.

*Quotes are from an ARC and may not be final.

Review: "On Their Frontlines" by Marina Lisa Komiya

On Their Frontlines by Marina Lisa Komiya
Published September 2026 via Takumigraphics
★★★★

Japan in the 1940s: Haru and Yoriko are would-be lovers, kept apart by convention (the 1940s is not an easy time to be a queer woman) and circumstance (their entire lives have been torn apart by war). The war never ended for me, says one of the women, and never have truer words been spoken.

I found this line in the preface really valuable context while reading: As you read this story, you may find yourself vexed by certain elements. This is not a story of strong, independent women, but one where the female characters find themselves having to rely on the kindness of soldiers from the winning side in order to survive. Those who come into this story hoping to find a narrative about female empowerment, where all the women stand on their own two feet, may find themselves especially disappointed. However, the characters I wanted to depict were those unremarkable, vulnerable people who were forced to bear the brunt of the overwhelmingly dismal state that Japan had fallen into in the wake of losing the war – those people who never had the chance to live their lives as they pleased.

As somebody who of course always wants the women in a story to be able to stand on their own two feet, and who also wants stories to make sense for the time and place they're set in, I really appreciated having that commentary right up front. Because it's true: These are not particularly independent women, but they're also not women who have ever had the opportunity for much independence. Neither of them is looking for a prince in shining armor (or a prince at all), but at some point they both realize that they might have to settle for something they don't particularly want in order to get, or stay, out of an even worse situation.

This is volume 1, and I'm curious to see how many more volumes this story might have and whether Haru and Yoriko might eventually cross paths again. I don't need a perfect happy ending for them (see: stories that make sense for the time and place they're set in), but it'll be interesting to see where their stories go.

Thanks to the author and publisher for providing a review copy through NetGalley.

Review: "The Pomegranate Is a Grenade" by Maha Hashwi

The Pomegranate Is a Grenade by Maha Hashwi
Published September 2026 via Central Avenue Poetry
★★★★

it's not easy being told you are incomplete because you are uncovered / or being told you are dangerous because you are covered (37*)

A thoughtful collection about faith and discrimination and love, whatever love means. I am fairly specific about the poetry I read—I am no expert (there is a reason I steered clear of the poetry department during my MFA), but I know what I like, and the things that I like include solid themes (though that's not strictly necessary) and crisp imagery, and The Pomegranate Is a Grenade (hello, that title!) has both.

In another language grenada is pomegranate / The pomegranate is a grenade. / The grenade breaks a mother's hands open / Tears two hearts apart from one another / Forces the release of thick red skin (73)

This made for a decent but imperfect fit for me. Thematically, it's very on point; I like reading about religion, and a number of the things Hashwi discusses are unfortunately very topical right now (read: discrimination and just general ignorance). I do love the titular poem, and there's one that compares prayer to (sometimes!) phone calls with distant relatives that made me think quite a bit. The language is often simpler than I prefer, though; I tend to lean towards...lines that read less like sentences, I suppose, and that do more with wordplay.

3.5 stars; still worth the read, but I'm not sure how many of the poems will still be with me in a month or two.

*Quote are from an ARC and may not be final.

Thanks to the author and publisher for providing a review copy through NetGalley.

Review: "Toe to Toe" by Falon Ballard

Toe to Toe by Falon Ballard
Published March 2026 via G.P. Putnam's Sons
★★

You know the story: ballerina is excellent at ballerina-ing, but she's told that she's not sexy enough for a sexpot role, so she hires a stripper to teach her to bring more sensuality to her performance. Sparks fly, yadda yadda.

And...I'm underwhelmed. I picked this up for the ballet element, and honestly, I didn't realize from the description that this was a ballet-dancer-meets-stripper story—Cord is described instead as the lead dancer of an all-male revue, Cord Donovan, a classically trained dancer who is also the sexiest man she’s ever met. All of that's true! And there's nothing wrong with stripping, and I'm aware that in addition to stripping, Cord is doing a bunch of other things (successful business owner, etc.). But...if I had a cliche-o-meter, this book might have broken it.

The book is genuinely trying to do some interesting things, but a lot of them...left me wanting more, I guess. Let's go through a few.

Diversity: There's an effort at having a varied cast (mostly by way of race, gender, and sexuality), which is great. The book does lose points there by doing one of my pet peeves and having Allegra immediately and accurately identify women as women, men as men, and nonbinary people as "people".

Disordered eating: The author's note at the beginning says that while [Allegra] does not suffer from any diagnosed eating disorder, she is very aware of her eating habits and those behaviors are present on the page (loc. 224). The forewarning is appreciated, and the book is careful not to get into weight or body-checking or calories. At the same time...I find the language of the note strange; not having a diagnosed eating disorder is not the same as not having an eating disorder. If Allegra were in a slightly different context, her approach to eating (terrified of everything but salads, basically) and exercise (must do class + additional workout daily without fail) would raise big red eating disorder flags to those around her. Cole sees it all, and he vacillates between presenting Allegra with food he knows she won't eat and telling her that it's fine, athletes gonna athlete and part of that is engaging in restrictive food habits. And...eesh. Obviously it's true that ballet is a very visual form, and many if not most ballerinas performing at a high level are thin in a way that is unlikely to be something they never think about, but...I'd have preferred this side plot to be either 1) deleted or 2) explored in a great deal more depth.

Sexual harassment: One thread that runs through the book has to do with, well, sexual harassment in the ballet world. Allegra has previously rejected the advances of her ballet director, but among other things, he continues to insinuate that she'll have a higher chance of promotion to principal if she sleeps with him. While Allegra is careful to keep her distance, she is also very, very clear that this is a level of harassment she expects and is willing to tolerate for the sake of continuing in her career. And...what do we do with that? On the one hand, it makes Allegra look like a bit of a doormat, and one who isn't thinking beyond herself—she never stops to consider that if the director is harassing her, there's a good chance he's also harassing other dancers, ones who are more afraid to say no. Never. Not once. And on the other hand, she's in a position that many, many, many woman, in all sorts of careers and jobs, find themselves. Allegra is milquetoast as all get-out, but her decision to tolerate a certain level of sexual harassment is not a surprising one.

What I did want from her, though, was consideration of other options. Allegra is afraid that if she speaks up, she'll be blacklisted and never dance for a reputable company again, and I don't know—maybe that's still true. She's also, as a soloist, still more replaceable than, e.g., a principal dancer who regularly headlines roles. But even if making a formal complaint would torpedo her life, she has other options. She could make an anonymous complaint. She could audition with other dance companies—e.g., ones with directors who aren't withholding promotion because she's refused to sleep with them. She could get a sense of other dancers' experiences with the director and see how much of a pattern this is, see if this is something they could report en masse or if someone less replaceable would back her. She could consider...oh, gosh, I don't even know what else she could consider. But neither does she, because she never tries to consider alternatives.

I can't fault her for not wanting to torpedo her life. I can't. It's not her fault that the director is a slimy slimy sleazeball, and it's not actually her job to fix that. But I still wish she'd do...something.

The ballet: Ballet in this ballet-centric book is nearly nonexistent, unfortunately. Allegra goes to class occasionally (or rather, she goes to class once and sometimes twice daily, but we see it occasionally), and she performs occasionally (ditto), but we see almost none of the details. The ballet she enlists Cord to help her audition for is one choreographed by the slimy skeevy director, and when he describes it at the beginning all of the dancers basically roll their eyes and say "this sounds like a derivative mess that is actually just "Moulin Rouge"", but then their objections fade away into nothing and Allegra treats it as the thing that will put her on the map (or at least lead to her promotion). I suspect this is because "Allegra gets her moment to shine" was a bigger plot priority than "skeevy director isn't even good at his job", but, I dunno. It ended up feeling a little "evil villain is evil". There can be ballets that require sensuality without them being "Moulin Rouge" knock-offs, you know? (But then, maybe it's not even a knock-off, because we see nothing of the audition and next to nothing of the rehearsals and nothing of the performance itself, so.)

Existing in the age of the Internet: As "payment" for her lessons with Cord, Allegra agrees to help him choreograph a duet for his strip club, and then to perform it. I'm not here to take issue with that! Not with his job, and not with her trying out a different kind of stage. What I am here to take issue with is the idea that at no point does either of them consider that they're living in an age of smartphones and social media, that she has a job that makes her more visible than some, and that there is an excellent chance that her experimentation with stripping might become very public. I could get her assessing the risk and deciding it manageable; I could get her saying "no, this is not a risk that I am willing to take". But it being a risk that neither of them ever considers is just...I'm trying to be polite here. It's not smart.

In sum: I wanted to like this, because I like ballet books and I appreciated that the author was trying to bring some shades of grey into situations that can be quite complicated. But the execution just didn't do it for me.

Review: "Swiped Left" by Ruth Madison

Swiped Left by Ruth Madison
Published March 2026
★★★

She swiped left on him because he was in a wheelchair—and then they met in person, and she had second thoughts.

I picked this up because I've seen precious little romance featuring a character who has a significant physical disability, and I wanted to see where this one would go. What I liked: Callie's left-swipe is honest in a way that I suspect a lot of people aren't. She acknowledges that she's afraid someone in a wheelchair would cramp her style, and she's not interested enough to find out if that's true. I'm not encouraging her early-book perspective, but I expect it's more common than not. Better, this isn't a huge dramatic point down the line; it's something that comes up in conversation with Mark fairly early on after they meet. It's a very short book, but they manage to do a fair amount of getting to know each other and solving dramatic stuck-in-a-lodge problems.

What I wasn't so convinced by: Mark is low-key superhuman. He's in a wheelchair, yes, and he's also a doctor and clearly spends many hours in the gym and is 99% of the time hyper-independent and is great with kids and a natural leader and can solve any mechanical problem you throw at him. (And don't forget great in bed!) And on the one hand: With the exception of the wheelchair, that's most romance novels. But on the other hand: I don't like the implication that Mark kind of has to be superhuman for Callie to see beyond the wheels. I'm sure that's not the intention, not least because the author has a bunch of books with heroes who have more extensive disabilities than Mark's. I'd be curious to hear what folks with physical disabilities think about this representation, but it left me feeling a bit off.

The other thing: My gosh the ending is abrupt. A couple of days stuck together in a lodge isn't enough to make a brand-new relationship stick, you know? When the book ends, the relationship is barely beginning. And again, this isn't specific to this book: A huge number of romance novels (I won't hazard a guess about proportion!), especially ones from earlier days of romance, are basically conflict-conflict-conflict-conflict-together-the-end. Given that Callie wasn't even sure she wanted to give this relationship a go, it would have been nice to see some actual relationship rather than just the run-up to the relationship.

So...good intentions, don't love the execution. Do with that what you will.

Sample-chapter showdown: Romance V

A Lady Would Know Better by Emma Theriault (Entangled: Amara)
Crash Course by Piper Lawson (Berkley XO)
Necessary Roughness by Danielle Allen (Bramble)

It's time for a sample-chapter showdown! Three romance samples enter...only one exits. Or maybe two. Or three. Who can say?

In A Lady Would Know Better, Jasper is the second son—he was supposed to have a life of idle pleasure, followed by some sort of career of his choosing. Instead he's the latest Earl of Belhaven, struggling to keep it together for his remaining family and for his peasants (erm, my word, not the book's) on his land. He's not prepared for a bloodied and unconscious stranger to land on his proverbial doorstep in the middle of winter...

...but now that she's here, she just might be the best thing that has happened to Jasper and his family in more than a year.

If, that is, she can remember who she is. Or what she was running from. Or whom...

I only read a sampler, but this is clearly going to be an entertaining and fast-paced romp. Jasper is a wee bit of a tool at times, but he's a gallant tool, and...well, he does have some reasons to be stressed. The characters display what I suspect is an unrealistic level of feminism and ideas about science for the time, but the sampler does an annoyingly good job of making me wonder about "Jane's" background", and I'm looking forward to seeing where the plot goes. I'm also quite enjoying the aunt

This looks like it will be a great deal of fun—pointed but not taking itself too seriously.

Meanwhile, in Crash Course, Shay is working to get to the top—studying at the top Formula One preparatory college so that she can become a mechanic and give herself and her father a more stable life. She didn't expect to attract the attention of the academy's local gods on her first day...

This one is for fans of:

- Normcore heroines
- Rich (and dare I say arrogant?) love interests
- Possible love triangles
- Possible Twilight vibes (minus the sparkly vampires)
- Formula One, of course

And here's why it didn't work for me:

I am extremely biased right now: I recently lost someone I love because of a reckless driver. I tried to set this aside when writing this, because that's not the author's fault, but frankly I couldn't make it through the sample. The book opens with one of the potential love interests hitting the heroine with his car, blaming her for it, and threatening her against telling anyone; later in the sample he threatens to run her over again. I had to stop reading.

Your mileage might vary—again, I am absolutely, 100% biased right now, and if I'd thought about the part where Formula One is all about fast cars and dangerous speeds, I probably would have had the sense to stay away. There's a whole wave of Formula One books these days, and I'm sure this will have popular appeal. But to me right now, drivers who speed without care for who gets hurt belong in prison, not masquerading as heroes.

And finally, in Necessary Roughness, she's a top athletic trainer. He's a top athlete...who really, really doesn't want her to know what's going on with his leg.

I read a short excerpt, just enough to breeze through and get a sense of who the characters are. I suspect I'd like Nova in the full version: She's fat and Black and very good at what she does and has had to work like hell to overcome people's assumptions about her. She's not taking prisoners, but she's also not taking her skills for granted. Channing I had a bit of a harder time with ("heroes" who threaten heroines with unemployment go straight to my shitlist and have to earn their way off it), but we can see right away that he's up against a lot: He has a multimillion-dollar contract, yes, but that contract is only as good as his success on the field...and an injury, especially depending on the circumstances of the injury, could change all that in an instant. His wife (soon, I assume, to be ex-wife) is a bit one-note in a way I don't love (romance has a tendency to make the exes real evil so that the reader can't possibly sympathize with them), but I'm intrigued by Channing's mention that his money has to cover not just him but other people; I'd be curious, going forward, to know whether there's more there than just his wife.

For all the brevity of the preview, it gave a solid idea of what to expect—this is definitely a good one for the sports romance fans.

The verdict: A Lady Would Know Better has a bit of an unfair advantage here: It was published earlier than the other two in this showdown...and so I've read it by now. I'll also keep an eye out at my library for Necessary Roughness (not least to see what the eventual cover will be!), because for whatever reason I do enjoy a heroine-as-athletic-trainer setup.

Thanks to the authors and publishers for providing these samples through NetGalley.

Review: "Natural Selection" by Clare Edge

Natural Selection by Clare Edge
Published August 2026 via Delacorte Press
★★★★★

There are predators in Riverside. It's why everyone knows to carry bear spray, to watch out for grizzlies. But those are only the predators that people talk about. The girls of Riverside know: The predators aren't only in the woods.

Power is intoxicating. It's safety. It's certainty you will be okay because you can tear the safety away from those who might threaten it. (loc. 3352*)

This was gripping, and I think my favorite YA novel of the past two years. Make no mistake: It's a dark book, with multiple types of violence and a fair amount of blood and gore and boys carrying shotguns around the school with impunity. The plot is not entirely unexpected, though it gets intense far faster than I would have anticipated—let's just say that revenge is the beginning of the story, not the end.

But what I'm really here for is the intensity of the friendships. Megan and Outlaw (can you guess which one of these is a nickname?) have been friends forever, and Bee is relatively new in town. They don't click immediately: Megan doesn't want to hear the hard truths, and Outlaw holds a barrier between herself and the world, and Bee is (rightly) afraid of her role as newcomer and outsider. Megan is the school's alpha girl, and Outlaw does her own thing but is—largely—untouchable, and Bee knows full well that her brand of different is not really welcome here. But: I love how hard Megan has to interrogate her own reactions and instincts. I love that the three of them have to work to make it work. I love that they wrestle, over and over again throughout the course of the book, with the implications and consequences of their actions.

And yet: There are predators in Riverside. And it's time someone did something about it.

*Quotes are from an ARC and may not be final.

Thanks to the author and publisher for providing a review copy through NetGalley.

Children's books: History: "Returning the Sword", "A Bike Is Not Just a Bike", and "A Quilt of Stars"

Returning the Sword by Caren Stelson, illustrated by Amanda Yoshida (Carolrhoda Books)
A Bike Is Not Just a Bike by Brenna Jeanneret, illustrated by Michelle Pereira (Gloo Books)
A Quilt of Stars by Karen Nyberg and Ann McCallum Staats, illustrated by Alida Massari (Familius)

Back to the world of picture books...this time, with history!

Returning the Sword starts with an American soldier who, in 1945, took home a surrendered Japanese sword as a souvenir. For more than sixty years, it sat in his home as an unsettling reminder of his experience, and the experience of the Japanese people he had seen struggling to put their lives back together after the war. And in 2013, he finally found a way to return the sword to its rightful place.

Stelson is involved in this story in an unexpected way (I'll let you read the book to find out how), and she brings a personal and thoughtful touch to the story. The story touches on the traumas of war from both sides—the winners and the losers, for lack of a more elegant way to put it—in a way that is appropriate for young readers, and the story of the sword in particular provides a unique starting point, plus a talking point for adults to introduce different parts of history to kids.

The art is fairly simple, but the full-page illustrations provide plenty of detail. Most importantly, though, it's clear that this was written with a lot of care and respect—a great pick for young readers interested in history.

Meanwhile, a bike is just a bike...except when it represents so much more.

In A Bike Is Not Just a Bike, children are introduced to some of the pushback women (and girls) faced when the bicycle—all things considered, a very modern invention—came into play. Nobody questioned the ability (or right) of men to ride bicycles, of course. But for women, surely they weren't physically capable...and it would risk their health and looks...and they should be at home in the kitchen, anyway...

Bicycles are one example of many—there were similar concerns about women running long distances (remember Kathrine Switzer?), going to space, etc. This bit of history points to the hypocrisy of it all: fine for women to work long hours cooking and cleaning and doing laundry (and, of course, for women of lower means, to do even more backbreaking labor as necessary), but surely riding a bicycle would be too much. Women's looks were considered at risk...but there was no concern of the same for men's looks. And, of course, this is not a problem that has gone away: Did you know how hard athletes had to push for the women's version of the (all-male) Tour de France? (Not part of this book, and note that the Tour de France Femmes is back since that article was published...but noting because it's so recent and so relevant!)

At any rate, this makes for a fun and informative read—great for a kid who is just learning to ride a bike, I imagine! The art is fairly simple, but it's evocative, and I love the color scheme.

A Quilt of Stars takes us through Karen Nyberg's journey to become an astronaut...and her multiple journeys into space, where in addition to doing cool science-y things (technical term) she found a way to apply another passion to space...by practicing spacecrafting! (Heh.)

This is really lovely—it's well timed, what with the recent NASA launch, and I don't know a ton about Nyberg, so it was nice to read something about her, and to think about some of the odd specifics of space. (Allowed just over three pounds of personal items for about six months in space, what would you bring?) The book talks about space and science, of course, but also about a collaborative quilting project that Nyberg engineered. I might have liked a little more about life on the space station, but then, that's the sort of thing that is more likely to be covered in picture books than why there are often stuffed animals in space even if the astronauts aren't the ones to design and sew them.

The illustrations are fantastic, lush and full-page with a dreamy color palette that emphasizes blue and gold. Gravity-free hair is a theme!

The theme of the quilting project was stars, and this would make such a good classroom read for young kids—learn a little about space, learn a little about quilting, and have kids design their own star-themed quilt blocks...out of paper or out of fabric, depending on time and resources.

Thanks to the authors and publishers for providing review copies through NetGalley.

Review: "Armaveni" by Nadine Takvorian

Armaveni by Nadine Takvorian
Published March 2026 via Levine Querido
★★★

I recently read a couple of graphic novels (Tall Water and Silenced Voices) that cover genocide in Sri Lanka and Guatamala, respectively, and since I know shockingly little about the Armenian genocide, this felt like a natural extension of that reading. Armaveni is a fictionalized retelling of Takvorian's own story and her family history.

As a story, it's heartbreaking. Again, I don't know much about the Armenian genocide, but you don't need to know the specifics of a conflict to understand fear and loss. I could have used more details of the historical background, because I simply don't know that much about the time and place—even the time frame was something I had to look up a couple of times. As a graphic novel, then, it didn't fully do the job for me: I would have liked more history wrapped in with the memoir. The book is also in one color scheme, and while past and present are clear, I struggled to keep track of the different characters in the earlier timeline. (I eventually stopped trying.) I'm not sure if a multiple color schemes would have helped me keep track, but I think I just needed something more.

With all this said, it's an interesting book about a conflict that isn't enough discussed (Türkiye in particular has worked to suppress discussion of the genocide and to reframe it as something, well...pro-Türkiye); a decent one to add to a library collection about oppression and conflict in both past and present.

Review: "The Boxcar Children" by Gertrude Chandler Warner

The Boxcar Children by Gertrude Chandler Warner
First published 1924
★★★

Four orphaned children in the 1920s find an old boxcar and move in. This was one I read in childhood, and when I stumbled across it I thought I'd give it a quick reread to see how memory held up.

This is of course a deeply romanticized version of homelessness, and also a deeply romanticized version of orphanhood. The children are all sickly good and sweet and hardworking—never the smallest complaint—and for all that they're living rough in the 1920s, they also don't struggle: There's never any question that Henry, the eldest, will be able to find work to support them (and indeed, on his first attempt he finds a wealthy doctor who is more than happy to pay Henry handsomely, and daily, to do odd jobs—imagine if this had been written a few years later, in the Depression!); they never struggle to find sufficient healthy food (within a couple of days they're cooking up hearty stews); when they decide they need plates and cups and so on, off they go to find a dump in the woods, and lo! A dump appears, with everything they could possibly want. If there's any grief over the loss of their parents, we don't see it; they're perfectly happy and self-sufficient until their extraordinarily wealthy grandfather steps in, and then they're perfectly happy to step into a rather more pampered life.

Now. With all that in mind, I remember this being wonderful for the imagination as a child—who among us who read this as a kid didn't dream of running away to live in a boxcar in the woods? Sometimes I still wish it were a possibility. (I also remember a moment in the book where one of the characters is cross for a half second, and everyone is shocked because it's so out of character, but that didn't happen in the book I just read...so I do wonder whether there are a couple of different editions floating around out there!) Sort of a shame that they're only actually in the boxcar for a single book, as reading about rich kids with basically unlimited resources is less fun than reading about kids figuring it out, even if in a very improbable way.

I'd forgotten that their grandfather tells them that they should all go to college, which is great—there's certainly a fair amount of class-based expectation there, I wonder how many girls in the 1920s had the good fortune and privilege for college to be a given.

Also fascinating to see the different covers on this; for a book about children in the 20s they wear some awfully 80s clothing on the covers! I understand why (more appealing to contemporary, or contemporary-at-the-time-of-an-edition-being-published, readers), but this would have been so different a story in the 80s.