Review: "The Weight of One Pomegranate" by Brynne Rebele-Henry

The Weight of One Pomegrante by Brynne Rebele-Henry
Published July 2026 via Soho Teen
★★★

Isa's sister Eleni was her north star—but Eleni died recently, suddenly, unexpectedly, and her death has torn Isa's whole world apart. And to make matters worse, she's only now finding out just how much Eleni didn't tell her.

I read this largely on the strength of Rebele-Henry's Orpheus Girl. I'm cautious with books about grief these days, but I like a coming-of-age story and stories with queer characters, and, well, curiosity calls. Isa's grief is still new and raw, and she's still trying to understand her place in the world now that her sister is no longer there to show her the way.

Some mornings, when I wake up, I've forgotten. Then I swing open the bedroom door only to realize that it's not the door to our room anymore. And something dark and sharp edges its way into my throat and makes it hard to speak. It's like falling, the remembering. (loc. 49*)

That grief is visceral and real, but I struggled to connect with the characters in other ways. Isa's parents are shadows of themselves and whispers on the page (or, more often, off the page); she starts to understand her sexuality throughout the book, but it's unclear how close she really is to the person she likes and whether she really likes them or more the idea of them. I can read Isa as neurodivergent or as someone who simply hasn't found her people yet, and though it doesn't really matter for the purposes of the story, I'm left with a lot of questions. (There are some letters in the book, incidentally, one of which brings Isa some peace but for me again raises some questions.)

The language is lovely, and I do wonder whether I might take more away from this one if I come back to it in the future. Not a bad one to pick up for poetic writing and a quieter look at grief.

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

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

Review: "70,000" by Lenna Jawdat

70,000 by Lenna Jawdat
Published July 2026 via Central Avenue Poetry
★★★★★

In 1948, alongside the other events that comprised the formation of the Israeli state, some 70,000 books were removed from Palestinian homes and libraries. Some 6,000 are now in Israeli libraries, where most Palestinians cannot access them; the remaining 64,000 have presumably been lost to history. Jawdat, herself a poet of Palestinian descent, set out to illustrate this loss in the simplest of ways: by writing out the numbers 1 to 70,000.

The numbers start out simply—columns on a page. The columns tighten as Jawdat seeks to fit more numbers on each page, pens change, the columns expand and contract and fit themselves into and around art, interspersed with history (family history, Palestinian history) in the form of poetry.

I ask my partner to help me write numbers, notes Jawdat. He wrote less than 20 before tiring. (168*)

This is an inherently political book—there is no way for it not to be—and it is sharp and pointed and painful. Palestine is for Jawdat an abstraction to a point, a place her forebears fled and a place she does not know if she will ever be allowed to visit. And it is also, to her, an intensely real place, one tied up in family and scent and memory and war. And still a place she does not know if she will ever be allowed to visit.

What I like in poetry is sometimes idiosyncratic, but I like poetry that asks me to work for it, that asks me to think, that do something interesting with form. And this delivers in spades. My favorite poetry collection that I've read in a good long time.

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

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

Review: "Ungodly Rich" by Katharine McGee

Ungodly Rich by Katharine McGee
Published July 2026 via Crown
★★★★

When Julia meets her boyfriend Harry's family, it's something of a shock to the system—they aren't an ordinary family but a business empire in and of themselves, and they're jaw-droppingly powerful and rich...some might say ungodly rich. And there's just one tiny thing that Harry hasn't told her...his name isn't Harry. It's Ares. And there's a reason his family is so powerful.

The squeal I squelt when I saw that McGee had a new series in the works—I'm still not over the fact that the American Royals series is complete, and the Queen's Match duet sent me down so many Wikipedia rabbit holes that I'm surprised my laptop didn't overheat and die. Like many kids, I had D'Aulaires' Book of Greek Myths, and you'd better believe it stuck with me...so this was a total delight.

This is the Greek gods if they'd managed to make it into the modern age with a little bit of luck and a whole lot of savvy. They've adapted—maybe people are no longer leaving offerings or building temples, but they've found other ways to stay relevant and powerful, and they've found ways to maintain privacy even in a world where everyone has a camera and the Internet in their pocket. What they haven't found is a way to make peace with each other...or a way to welcome newcomers into the fold.

This is full of drama, and it's delicious. McGee doesn't write her characters squeaky-clean—rather, some of her most interesting characters are grasping and determined and focused. They want to maintain their positions or gain better positions; they have power without necessarily accountability. They make bad choices, and choices that hurt other people, and at the same time you're able to root for them, because it's possible to see where they're coming from just how much they have on the line.

Not sure how long this series will be, but I'll be along for the ride.

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

Review (Deutsch): "Die romantischen Tragödien eines Drama Kings" von Harry Trevaldwyn

Die romantischen Tragödien eines Drama Kings von Harry Trevaldwyn
Übersetzt von Henriette Zeltner-Shane und Sylvia Bieker
Herausgegeben 2026 von Dragonfly
★★★★

Es ist ein neues Jahr, und Patch hat einen Plan: Jetzt ist das Jahr, dass er seinen ersten Freund finden wird...seinen ersten Kuss bekommen...und natürlich die Hauptrolle in dem Theaterstück gewinnen.

Auch natürlich: Nicht alles geht genau nach Plan.

"Drama King", sagt der Titel, und der Titel hat Recht. Patch hat viele Emotionen und viele Ideen und viel Persönlichkeit. Er ist ein echter Charakter, mit Ecken und Kanten; er macht nichts ruhig. Patch kann ganz schön anstrengend sein—aber er ist auch (normalerweise) ein guter Freund und jemand, der immer (okay, fast immer) das Richtige tun will.

Ich freue mich, dass ich nicht mehr Teenager bin. Es macht doch immer noch Spaß, Bücher über dramatische Teenager zu lesen, und Patch ist keine Ausnahme. Sein Herz ist (mehr oder weniger) an der richtigen Stelle, aber er ist immer noch jung und hat kein Augenmaß.

Diese Übersetzung passte mir (als eine nicht-flüssige Leserin) hervorragend: schnelllebig, mit unvergesslichen Charakteren und schlagfertigen Dialogen. Und hey! Ein neuer Zungenbrecher für mich: Auf den sieben Robbenklippen sitzen sieben Robbensippen, die sich in die Rippen stippen, bis sie von den Klippen kippen (loc. 3016). Sag das fünf Mal schnell!

Thanks to the author and publisher for providing a review copy through NetGalley. Quotes are from an ARC and may not be final. Deutsch ist nicht meine Muttersprache, und alle Fehler sind meine eigenen.

Review: "Tadpoles in the Milk" by Mildred Roseman Gackle

Tadpoles in the Milk by Mildred Roseman Gackle
Published November 2018 via Wasteland Press
★★★

In 1950, Gackle set off for rural Kenya. She'd taken a position as a missionary nurse, and she stayed for the better part of a decade, until persistent illness took her home.

I didn't realize the time frame when I picked this up—I hadn't clocked the author's name, which might have given me a clue, and I guess I assumed that this was a much more recent experience. I was interested in the book for the medical-care-in-a-different-context aspect (what can I say, I like medical memoir), but the time frame ended up being one of the more compelling aspects.

Some things fascinated me: At one point some women in the community were scared by a streak in the sky, and Gackle writes that Fortunately some of the missionaries returning from the States had told us about these marks and the new planes that made them (96). To think how recent that was! I mean—Gackle was in a different generation (she died in 2024 at the age of 100), and this was literally a lifetime ago, but still.

Later, she describes an event where the missionary doctor came in and said we were going to have to do something we had never done before, and we needed to get started right away. [...] We had never done a blood transfusion. (102) A blood transfusion as the height of modern medicine! I suppose I shouldn't be surprised—if I remember correctly, there's a Cherry Ames book from roughly the same time period that I think also discusses blood transfusions in very basic terms—but it's just...a reminder of what limited means they had, I suppose. To add to this, the mission hospital had electricity but not plumbing, so (for example) scrubbing in for surgery involved washing with water that had been hauled in and boiled.

Other things horrified me: During the Mau Mau Rebellion, the colonial government issued guidelines to protect oneself...and those guidelines included things like "do not let Africans walk behind you" and "be suspicious of all Africans" (28). Again, I guess I shouldn't be surprised, but really! What rot! Fortunately Gackle realized pretty quickly that that wasn't a way to live, and she writes about the locals with respect and affection, but it was striking to read.

Or this (Ernie being the lone doctor): Ernie's habit was to pray with each patient before surgery. He briefly explained the plan of salvation, asked if he or she would like to accept Jesus as Savior right then, and followed with a short prayer for health and recovery for the patient and for wisdom and guidance for us. (105) I understand that this was a mission hospital, and conversions were paramount (perhaps more so than medicine, as we'll discuss in a moment), but this troubled me. Here the doctor was in a position of significant power—a white man in a colonial setting, presumably the most educated person for miles around, the only person for miles around who was capable of performing surgery, the patient's life literally in his hands. The pressure to accede to the doctor's request must be immense in that context, no? Whether or not you fully understood what he meant, and whether or not you wanted to.

This story is told in the context of those blood transfusions, and—mild spoiler, sorry—the patient survived the surgery but ultimately didn't make it. What he did do was tell his wives that they were Christian now, and so his story is treated as a success: What to include when I had an opportunity to speak [in the States, about mission work] was easier this second furlough. [...] The story of Arap Segem, his three wives, his blood transfusions and his conversion was a good way of demonstrating the value of having a doctor at Tenwek. (111) Now...I understand that I'm coming at this from a different context and background and so on, but oh gosh. If I'm ever in hospital, I really don't want it to be a hospital where the medical staff will consider it a success if I die so long as they manage to convert me to their religion before that happens.

With all that in mind...Gackle's telling makes for a lively book, and she seems like a good person to know. The obituary I found said that she'd written this with her grandchildren in mind, and I do hope they'll keep copies in her memory.

Review: "Sourland" by Ariel Delgado Dixon

Sourland by Ariel Delgado Dixon
Published June 2026 via Random House
★★★★

Sourland is one part an institution and all the other parts nothing but rejection of the institution. There, Sapphire has spent year upon year building a hardscrabble queendom of weed-growing misfits. Into that kingdom stumble Frankie, an erstwhile ballerina, and Fizz, a local with a complicated past of his own. And everyone has a hidden agenda.

I had to think for a while about what it was about the premise that appealed to me here. I'd not be cut out for work on an under-the-radar weed farm—I'd be too worried about getting busted, I guess. And while I'm all for broader legalization of pot, my personal interest in it is somewhere between "limited" and "none." But: I like messy interpersonal relationships. I like a bit of grit. I like learning about things that have nothing to do with my daily life. Sourland has all of those.

Three months became five years, five years went to dust. (loc. 112*)

Sapphire is by and large secondary here; she's the one calling the shots and it's her farm that brings people in (and, sometimes, chews them up and spits them out), but really the story is Frankie and Fizz's. Frankie, who knows what she wants and, mostly, what she's willing to do to get it; Fizz, who is perhaps more used to letting the currents take him where they will, but...those are some powerful currents, and he is also a strong swimmer. Nobody is terribly good and nobody is entirely likable, which is about as things ought to be. All the lines I highlighted to take down as quotations are from Frankie's chapters, but of course nobody really sees themselves clearly; just as Frankie sees parts of Fizz and Sapphire that they themselves would not like to see, they see parts of her that are not in her own line of vision.

You don't need much more than the title to tell you that this is a bit of an odd one, but then...lucky for me, I like oddities.

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

Thanks to the author and publisher for inviting me to read a review copy through NetGalley.

Review (Deutsch): "Im Leben nebenan" von Anne Sauer

Im Leben nebenan von Anne Sauer, gelesen von Chantal Busse
Herausgegeben 2025 von Hörbuch Hamburg
★★★★

In einem Leben, ein Partner und eine Wohnung in der Stadt und ein Kinderwunsch—aber kein Kind. Und in einem anderen Leben, ein anderer Partner, ein Haus in den Vororten und...ein Kind. Ein Kind, das Toni (Antonia, in diesem anderen Leben) nicht erkennt. Ein Kind, das ihr Kind ist, oder so sagt man.

Ich interessiere mich für das "Sliding-Doors" Thema, und das Buch hat nicht enttäuscht. Es war immer klar, in welches Leben (Toni, Antonia) jedes Kapitel spielt; es war auch klar, dass beide Optionen Vorteile hatten...und Nachteile. Meistens gibt es nichts super dramatisch, aber beide Optionen sind für Toni/Antonia kompliziert: als Toni hat sie ihr normales Leben, das sie erwartet hat, aber kein Kind; als Antonia hat sie ein Kind, aber ein Kind, das sie nicht erkennt...und auch ein Leben, das sie nicht erkennt.

Ich hatte ein paar Momente der Verwirrung (mein Fehler, nicht ein Fehler des Buchs), meistens am Ende, aber allgemein gesprochen fand ich das Buch überraschend genau richtig—viel zum Nachdenken. (Auch: Ich habe das Hörbuch gehört, und die Stimme war ruhig und klar; ich würde weitere Hörbücher mit der gleichen Leserin gern hören.)

Thanks to the author and publisher for providing a review copy through NetGalley. Deutsch ist nicht meine Muttersprache, und alle Fehler sind meine eigenen.

Review: "In the Garden" by Amber Stewart

In the Garden by Amber Stewart
Published June 2026
★★★★

The writing had been on the wall for some time when Stewart and her wife pulled the plug. They'd never wanted to leave Tennessee—but it was no longer safe to stay.

I've heard so many people have conversations about this: not just about the US, but these days, in particular, yes, it's about the US. It's one of those things you only think about, or think about seriously, if you're in certain populations, but those populations are vast. For most, the question is ultimately theoretical, but for Stewart and her wife, it was a lot more than that: They had a plan, and they executed that plan. Put a pause on garden plans. Acquired visas, found an apartment, learned Spanish.

Uruguay never would have occurred to me as a haven country in these circumstances, not because I have preconceived notions about it but because I really know almost nothing about it. That's a big part of why I picked up the book; I'm perpetually curious about places I've never been, and of course this has the added bonus (if we can call it that) of involving issues near and dear to me. This is ultimately more about those issues, and the emotional process of upheaval (in many ways this is a refugee story, though Stewart rightly notes the difference in who gets called an immigrant and who gets called an expat, and the same applies to the word "refugee" here), than it is about Uruguay. I did wish at times for more place-specific details; it was fascinating to learn that Uruguay has such strong social protections for LGBTQ people (up there with Iceland and Norway), but I'd also have been very curious about just...more of the daily-life things.

A solid 3.5 stars, and a good one for anyone who has spent time thinking about immigration and human rights, for recent political reasons and for many others.

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

Review: Short story: "Twice in a Blue Moon" by Jess Lourey

Twice in a Blue Moon by Jess Lourey
Published June 2026 via Amazon Original Stories

Magic is a way of life for the Blackthorn women—but magic doesn't always make their lives easier.

This is something of an oddity of a short story (not a bad thing), drifting from one sister to another, to a woman who is part villain and part wronged, letting the story expand and contract as needed. When the story opens with Helena forgetting to put the window up at the car wash and simply accepting that she (and the interior of her car) will get drenched as a result, you know this is not going to be entirely normal; when a woman appears at their doorstep, painful tattoos appearing one after another across her skin, and nobody seems terribly alarmed—well, it keeps things interesting.

I'm intrigued here by the moral ambiguity; there are mentions of past events that will make a lot of readers unhappy, but I really do appreciate it when moral ambiguities are presented neutrally, in a matter-of-fact way, largely setting aside right and wrong and moving forward anyway because humans are, by and large, morally ambiguous creatures. I don't think I'll read the full-length book that is connected to this short story, but it was an interesting deviation.

A note: Goodreads has this listed as a new edition of "Seven Daughters", but I think it may have had significant revisions, as some of the things mentioned in the description of "Seven Daughters" (think: snakes) aren't present in this story, and there's a significant page difference—but if you've previously read "Seven Daughters", you might find it interesting to make a comparison.

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

Review: "One Day, Hard and Clear" by Anne Baldo

One Day, Hard and Clear by Anne Baldo
Published June 2026 via Rare Machines
★★★★

Lucy and Sami are best friends in the early 2000s, dreaming of bigger and better things, dreaming of Paris. They assume, then, that their friendship will stay the same forever, even as everything else changes around them. But things rarely work out that way.

One Day, Hard and Clear follows Lucy and Sami—mostly Sami—as they grow up and drift apart. Sami is infatuated with her sometimes boyfriend, True, even as they body slip in and out of other relationships. I wanted to know if my body would always feel like a live wire next to his, she says. If I would one day forget how I used to fall asleep up against his big back and finally feel anchored to the world. (loc. 328*)

I like a coming-of-age story, and that's just what we have here. Circumstances dictate a lot of Lucy and Sami's choices—they both imagine a world full of possibilities, at least at first, but it's clear that Lucy will simply have more resources to pursue things she wants to pursue, and also that there are limitations even before they get out of the gate.

"Young man" was a compliment, an honour, but even then I knew "young lady" was different, cool and corrective. You only heard it when you were doing something wrong. (loc. 466)

The book moves further through time than I initially expected—I'd thought it might stay in 2004 (so strange that my high school years have become historical fiction), but instead it moves forward and forward again. Sami has a burst of initiative relatively early on, moving away and trying to have an adventure, but, well, things change, and after that she seems largely to take life as it comes to her, accepting the hands she's dealt.

I looked at Bodie, wondering when the moment "I've chosen you right now" mutated somehow into "forever." By then I'd realized what we were, two broken fingers taped together, a busted buddy system. (loc. 757)

I wouldn't have minded a bit more of Lucy's life, for contrast and to see how much their paths truly diverge or don't (is Lucy happy, by the end?), but I liked how real this felt—no great choices or big declarations, just life moving forward and friendship morphing over time.

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

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