Review: "Here After" by Amy Lin

Here After by Amy Lin
Published March 2024 via Zibby Books
★★★★

Amy Lin's husband was here, and then he went out for a run and was gone: unexpectedly dead at 32. Here After chronicles those first fresh waves of grief as she learned to navigate the world—and an unexpected health crisis of her own—as a young widow.

The book moves effortlessly between then and now—then, when they were healthy and in love and thought it would last forever, and now, when Lin came up against, over and over, her new reality.

When Kurtis has been dead two years, it is still an impossibility. If people ask me how long it has been, I say a year because that is how it feels. (loc. 1099*)

It is, for obvious reasons, not a particularly easy read. Lin had had her eye on a career as a writer even before her husband died, but this was never the book she wanted to write. There's an interesting bit early on regarding someone else's grief—a woman roughly Lin's age whose husband also died young, someone Lin didn't reach out to at the time because she didn't want to intrude on the other woman's grief. I have yet to realize silence only isolates the bereaved even more than death already has (loc. 216). A hard lesson to learn, but not a surprising one. (What surprises me is the 'friend', later in the book, who steps away from being supportive because they "have to protect [their] light" (loc. 452)—don't be that friend.)

The thing I like best is probably the fluid back-and-forth structure—I'm not sure if the before and after will be more visibly separated in the final print version (I read a digital ARC), but the fluid shifts from then to now and back again feel very fitting for the immediacy of grief. But be prepared for a read that is fully and fundamentally about grief and how it reshapes your entire existence.

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

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

Review: "The Older Boy" by Jamie Suzanne (created by Francine Pascal)

The Older Boy by Jamie Suzanne (created by Francine Pascal)
First published 1987
★★

You know what's wild about this? Lila is the voice of reason. Lila! Who until I started rereading some Sweet Valley books I thought was the proverbial mean girl of the books! But it turns out that Lila is actually pretty dull (just rich), and Jessica is the hyperpsychobitch of the series. It's Lila who first points out that a twelve-year-old should not set her sights on a sixteen-year-old: Lila still couldn't believe it. "He's too old for you," she objected. "I'm telling you, Jess. The second he finds out you're still in middle school, he'll skate off into the sunset" (2).

I remember sympathizing more with Elizabeth than with Jessica when I read these books as a kid, but as an adult I can't decide what to think. On the one hand Jessica is a self-obsessed, overdramatic, self-serving, gaslighting mess. On the other hand...Elizabeth is really pretty boring, isn't she? She tells us in one breath that she's bailed her twin out of her chores too often that week already (35) and then in the next breath agrees to help again even though she ordinarily...wouldn't have been so generous (35). And then not long thereafter she lets Jessica gaslight her into apologizing when (as usual) it's Jessica who's gone off the rails, and Jessica of course feels not the slightest bit of remorse. (Elizabeth, kiddo, it's time to grow a spine. And a bit of self-awareness.) The rest of the family is similarly bewitched—when Jessica thinks she'll be missing a trip to the circus because she has out-of-town plans (which, to be clear, she doesn't: she has plans for a secret date), her parents are like "oh, poor thing, going to a lake house for the weekend, we'll have to make it up to her by taking her on a special trip by herself".

Anyway. The short version is that Jessica gets caught but not as caught as she should be; she gets off almost scot-free, because Jessica and consequences don't mix; and dear god, a sixteen-year-old should be able to tell that a twelve-year-old is too young for him (even one who's claiming to be fourteen—which is also too young for him).

The more of these I reread, the more I think that it's never actually been a double-heroine series—Jessica is the heroine, or as close as we get to one, and Elizabeth is her not-terribly-sharp foil.

Review: "The Berlin Letters" by Katherine Reay

The Berlin Letters by Katherine Reay
Published March 2024 via Harper Muse
★★★

1961: As the Berlin Wall goes up, Monica makes a wrenching choice—she passes her daughter over the barrier to her parents in West Berlin. Their lives will never be the same.

1989: Having moved to the US with her grandparents as a young child, Luisa has grown up knowing the power of secrets—enough so that she's a CIA codebreaker. But the discovery of a cache of letters turns everything she thought she knew about her past on its head and upsets her orderly life and sends her deep into the desperation of a crumbling East Berlin.

I've been more and more curious about life in East Berlin and the DDR more generally, and I absolutely flew through The Berlin Letters. There are two timelines here, and although initially I was far more invested in the 1961+ timeline, it didn't take long to get wrapped up in Luisa's story as well. As the plot goes on, Luisa gets more and more invested not just in what happened in the early days of the Cold War but in what is happening now, with the DDR teetering on the edge of collapse—and with crucial parts of her own story trapped behind the wall. I said above that I was initially more invested in the earlier timeline, but I didn't expect to sympathize so much with that section's narrator. Reay does skilful work in the gradual growth and learning of her characters.

The codebreaking aspect is fascinating, though I wished I better understood what the particular key in a given letter was—not sure if that will be clearer in hard copies of the book (I read an e-copy, and sometimes hard copies manage differences in color, formatting, etc., than e-copies do). I was also a bit sorry not to see...more urgency to Luisa's present-day work, maybe. Without giving too much away, I'll say that the codes she's breaking here have huge implications for the earlier timeline, but the implications for the later timeline are more abstract—enough so that, because we learn about them first in the later timeline, they don't hold quite as much suspense as they might otherwise.

All told, this makes me want to look for more of its ilk—accessible fiction about a time and place that I struggle to bring to life in my own imagination.

Thanks to the author and publisher for providing a review copy through NetGalley. (I received a complimentary copy of this book. Opinions expressed in this review are completely my own.)

Review: "Dead Weight" by Emmeline Clein

Dead Weight by Emmeline Clein
Published February 2024 via Knopf
★★★

Clein spent years entrenched in eating disorders, and in Dead Weight she examines some of the personal and societal obsessions that influenced her illness, and that of so many others.

Structured as a series of essays, Dead Weight leans heavily into pop culture, with an occasional academic bent. Clein has clearly read extensively—and consumed large amounts of other media—on the subject, and she quotes heavily. In places this works well, giving a sense of just how pervasive an issue is or in how many works it's reflected. I did end up wishing that fewer of the chapters/essays had taken this rapid-fire structure, with quotation following source following quotations, because it can feel very much like a montage, and I usually prefer to dive deeper into a topic or source (more analysis and fewer examples, I think). The pop culture parts have a very American lens; as someone who is American but is other things as well, I drew some very different conclusions (e.g., from the discussion of Girls vs. Fleabag) than Clein does, but there will be resonance for those whose media consumption is primarily American.

One thing that readers should be mindful of: While Clein makes a concerted effort to avoid potential triggers in the form of numbers and certain details of eating disorders and so on, I'm not sure she ever really manages to write past a level of latent ambivalence about her eating disorder. It's understandable but still a risky place to be writing from, and in places the compulsion to write, or perhaps just to delve into this in a sanctioned way, overrides caution. I don't know how to write about her without making her struggle into a manual or a vision board, writes Clein in a chapter that I can only describe as highly ill advised (and one of the most triggering things I've read in years). But I am going to try to write about her anyway... (loc. 3947*) An interesting read, but one I cannot recommend to anyone with anything other than a very healthy, uncomplicated relationship with their body.

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

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

Review: "49 Days" by Agnes Lee

49 Days by Agnes Lee
Published March 2024 via Levine Querido
★★★★

Kit is on a journey she didn't ask for: in Buddhist tradition, it takes 49 days for the spirit of a recently deceased person to pass over to the next life, but Kit hadn't expected to be on this path anytime soon.

Drawn in spare, black-and-white illustrations, 49 Days proves to be quietly devastating. Alongside Kit's journey, we see the parallel journeys of the people she's left behind—family, mostly, but also some friends—and memories of the time before. What's particularly resonant, I think, is Kit's own grief; just as her family is not ready for her to be gone, she is not ready to leave them behind. I'm not a crier, but I suspect that this will be a tear-jerker for many.

This feels like something new in both graphic novels and books about grief. I'd also recommend Marie Mutsuki Mockett's Where the Dead Pause, and the Japanese Say Goodbye to readers who want a further look at grief in non-Western cultures.

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

Review: "Don't Want You Like a Best Friend" by Emma Alban

Don't Want You Like a Best Friend by Emma Alban
Published January 2024 via Avon
★★★

Beth's goal for the debutante season is simple—snag a wealthy enough husband to keep her and her mother from the poorhouse. And Gwen's is even simpler—have some fun and avoid being saddled with a husband. It hasn't quite clicked for either of them that there's something else they both desperately want...

I read this for the cover, mostly, and generally it's a fun read. What it's not, though, is historical fiction: only the evil villains (who are evil) have 1800s attitudes, while the 'good' characters are all extremely modern in the way they think; the dialogue and slang is distinctly modern and often American ("Damn, I guess I've got to go" (96)—said nobody, ever, in 1800s Britain). In some ways that makes this an easier read for me, as I'm not all that interested in historical fiction, but at the same time...if I'm going to read historical fiction, I'd rather feel that I can trust the accuracy of, uh, anything within.

Beth and Gwen are both fine, though they don't seem to have much going on beyond worrying about the future (Beth) and drinking a whole lot more hard liquor than would be socially acceptable for teenage girls in the 1800s or...ever, really (Gwen). This will still be a good one for you if you don't mind insta-love and historical inaccuracy—that came out snarkier than I intended—but it ends up feeling more like fantasy to me than historical fiction.

Review: "The Forgotten Beasts of Eld" by Patricia McKillip

The Forgotten Beasts of Eld by Patricia McKillip
50th Anniversary Edition published February 2024 via Tachyon Publications
★★★★

High on a mountain, far outside the confines of society lives a woman, a wizard—Sybel. Hers is a solitary existence, with only the great magical beasts passed down from her father to keep her company, and it's a life that suits her. But times change, and when she is given charge of an infant to raise, she can no longer predict and shape the path of her life the way she once could.

"Is this all you want? To live here on this mountain, speaking only to animals who live in the dreams of their past, and to Tam, who will have a future that you cannot have? You are bound here by your father's rules, you live his life. You will live, grow old, and die here, living for others who do not need you. Tam one day will not need you. What, in years to come, will you have in your life but a silence that is meaningless, ancient names that are never spoken beyond these walls?" (loc. 581)

I first read The Forgotten Beasts of Eld more than two decades ago—I think I must have been twelve or thirteen. It was and is not my usual reading fare, so it was likely something of my sister's that made its way into the family bookshelves (my family has never been short of books). And I promptly forgot most of it, retaining only the barest outline of a wintery protagonist and the bird named Liralen, which I (also promptly) borrowed for a username and have yet to return.

As long ago as I read this, it's been around longer:The Forgotten Beasts of Eld was first published in 1974, and so 2024 marks its 50th anniversary. And it has held up to the test of time: I understand Sybel and her—not coldness, perhaps, but distance from the world—much better as an adult than I ever could twenty-odd years ago. She's distant from the world and at home in her isolation, yet also drawn to things she cannot name or fully understand; drawn to both a world of men and a world of magical creatures. I don't want to get too much into the plot (or the Liralen—again, I'd forgotten the details, and I am puzzled anew, which pleases me), but this is a classic of the genre for a reason. I'm looking forward to reading it again in another decade or two.

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

Review: "Best Friends" by Jamie Suzanne (created by Francine Pascal)

Best Friends by Jamie Suzanne (created by Francine Pascal)
First published 1986
★★★

I wondered when I reread the first Sweet Valley Kids book just how long it would take for Jessica's true sociopathic colours to show—and we have a partial answer. In this first book of the middle-school series, Jessica is already wreaking havoc, and not one of the other characters is in the slightest surprised. (Note: There are untagged spoilers below the fold, if you're worried about spoilers for a very outdated, toxic-ideals book published 38 years ago.)

There are yellow sweatsuits in this one as well as in the first SV Kids book, which makes me wonder whether the sweatsuits in the SV Kids book (which was written later) were a nod to the ones here or whether sweatsuits were just really, really popular in the 80s. But mostly it's all about the drama:

The big to-do of the book is Jessica's quest to join the Unicorn club, which is made up of popular girls whose great quest is to maintain their popularity, mostly through putting down anyone who is not a Unicorn themselves. (This is right up Jessica's alley.) Anyway, Jessica's in, but next it's Elizabeth's turn because...twins have to do everything together, right? Right? Wrong. Jessica's hazing tasks have been relatively mild, but—because the Unicorns don't want Elizabeth any more than Elizabeth wants them—Elizabeth is tasked with publicly humiliating Lois, the local Unpopular Girl.

You can guess how this goes. Elizabeth refuses (because, though she doesn't recognise a sociopath when she lives with one, she's not one herself), Jessica is horrified about what Elizabeth's refusal will mean for Jessica's reputation, Jessica decides to take matters into her own hands, Jessica goes forth and humiliates Lois. (The fat-shaming starts early in these books—the first SV High one is full of it too.)

Now...none of this is surprising, because...Jessica. But what's interesting to me is this: When Elizabeth and Lois get revenge, Jessica gets off scot-free. She wouldn't view it that way, of course (if the Unicorns are humiliated, Jessica is humiliated), but to me it looks an awful lot like Jessica doing awful things and then suffering no consequences...which, if I remember correctly, rapidly becomes something of a theme in these books. Suddenly the Jessica of Sweet Valley High makes a lot more sense...

Review: "That's Not My Name" by Megan Lally

That's Not My Name by Megan Lally
Published December 2023 via Sourcebooks Fire
★★★★

When she comes out of the woods, there's only one thing she knows—something is wrong. Everything else, from her name to what is wrong, is missing. At the police station, a man shows up with an ID for her, clothing...proof that she is his daughter, Mary.

Or is she?

Not too far away, Drew is desperate—the longer Lola is missing, the more the town is convinced that he has murdered his girlfriend. He knows he didn't do it...but the police aren't looking elsewhere, and he's more and more convinced that it's up to him to find new clues.

I rarely shelve YA mysteries as 'mystery' on Goodreads because...they often focus too much on romance, I think, and don't usually tingle my scare reflex. But That's Not My Name walks a terrific dual-storyline path, showing us Drew and 'Mary's' stories as they get closer and closer to the truth—keeping the reader guessing. Twists at the end keep this surprising, and the story's villain has enough complexity (...combined with some oh-yikes, but still) to stay interesting too. I swallowed this one pretty much whole and would happily have read more.

Review: "Trapped in Toyland" by Molly Mia Stewart (created by Francine Pascal)

 

Trapped in Toyland by Molly Mia Stewart (created by Francine Pascal)
First published 1994
★★★★

I've been rereading a few of the Sweet Valley books, and the description of this one triggered something in my memory, so I thought I'd add it to the pile. In Trapped in Toyland, Elizabeth and Jessica go to the fancy new department store with their parents, eager to spend their collected $15.63 on a Christmas gift for their mother. (Their father and brother get a construction-paper photo frame and a handwritten story, respectively.) Now, if this were one of the SV Twins or SV High books, it seems likely that Jessica would end up spending all the money before they could buy a gift...but instead, because this is a SV Kids book* and Jessica still has some feelings for other people, she's eager and (mostly) focused on finding a gift for their mother. But shenanigans happen, and the girls find themselves locked in the department store overnight...without their purse full of money, but with everything else at their disposal—and with a rather aggressive burglar.

On the whole, this is just adorable. It makes for great wish fulfillment (who hasn't wanted to be locked in somewhere overnight? A toy store, a bookstore, a furniture store with huge floofy beds...), and I love Elizabeth and Jessica's blend of responsibility and kid-ness: when they eat ice cream from the food court (because, naturally, all they have to do is walk behind the counter and open a freezer to access all the junk food they could ever want), they make sure to clean up after themselves...but Elizabeth is readily talked into trying on fancy dresses and makeup (I remember being jealous of the sequined dress Elizabeth tries on), and it's goody-two-shoes Elizabeth who suggests a race in the toy cars. (Older Elizabeth would never.) They create a fair amount of gleeful, well-intentioned kid chaos, and the book is better for it.

There are many, many, many things about the plot that make no sense, or at least make no sense in the 2020s—the Wakefields let their seven-year-old twins wander the eight-story department store with only their brother (who is roughly nine) to provide any kind of supervision; there's no search of the mall when the Wakefields can't find their daughters; there's no accountability from the Wakefields for letting their small children wander around unsupervised; the girls are able to access everything in the department store without minor concerns like keys; they make all sorts of noise without the burglar noticing; they call 911 multiple times and are laughed at; the burglar bothers to steal a second-grader's purse while preparing for his much bigger heist; literally almost everything about the burglar; and on and on it goes. But it's a book for kids and written in the 90s, and what can you do?

*Note that even in the SV Kids books Jessica is not above spending money that isn't hers or cheating to win.

Review: "Surprise! Surprise!" by Molly Mia Stewart (created by Francine Pascal)

Surprise! Surprise! by Molly Mia Stewart (created by Francine Pascal)
First published 1989
★★★

Sometimes I just can't help myself: I read the most recent graphic novel adaptation instalment of the Sweet Valley Twins series, and I knew I had to give the originals a quick whirl. Sweet Valley Kids was the elementary-school version of the series, and in Surprise! Surprise!, the first book of the series, Elizabeth and Jessica are on the cusp of turning 7. The big dilemma: what on earth to get each other?

I didn't read a tonne of the SVK books—I think I moved on pretty quickly to Sweet Valley Twins—but I remember this one pretty well, and the dresses on the cover give me instant nostalgia, so it must have been on the shelves. I didn't remember the illustrations, though! They'd be largely at home in a 1950s children's book, but they're very sweet. It's nice to see that Jessica was not actually born a sociopath; she's already her giggly, gossipy self, but she's at least invested in Elizabeth's happiness as well as her own, and generally a pretty happy-go-lucky kid. (Also, matching yellow sweatsuits!) I don't think I'll read more of this particular series (except Trapped in Toyland, because I also have some vague memories of that), but it'll be interesting to see in the SV Twins and SV High versions just how quickly Jessica lets her true sociopathic colors fly and just how quickly Elizabeth becomes Little Miss Priss. I am so very looking forward to this.

Review: "Eating Disorders Don't Discriminate" edited by Chukwuemeka Nwuba and Bailey Spinn

Eating Disorders Don't Discriminate edited by Chukwuemeka Nwuba and Bailey Spinn
Published February 2024 via Jessica Kingsley
★★★

Eating Disorders Don't Discriminate pulls together essays from various voices—leaning heavily towards content creators—about, well, eating disorders and some of the misconceptions about them.

As with any collection of essays, some feel stronger than others, and readers' mileage will vary. I found myself wishing that some of the authors of section introductions had been allotted space for full essays, as the introductions tended to be written by professionals in the field, while the essays tended to be written by people with platforms. (Including one of the editors, I counted 11 bios that included the number of followers a given writer has on social media. More than bit odd to me, but maybe something that will go over better with Gen Z?)

One thing that I found disappointing was the emphasis on anorexia over other eating disorders. The focus on anorexia is intentional:

Bailey and I think it's important to mention that there are noticeably more essays for anorexia nervosa. This is not to say that it's more important, or indeed, more common. As already mentioned, it isn't. Far from it. This is intentional, and due to the large amount of attention it receives, there are equally many misconceptions about it, and as a result a lot of dismantling via these stories that we felt needed to happen. (loc. 521*)

But it also seems really odd that this comment comes on the heels of acknowledging that anorexia gets a truly disproportionate amount of attention:

In the world of academia [...] anorexia nervosa assumes a disproportionately large amount of eating disorder research funding. [...] out of 190 studies of eating disorders, 72 (38%) were for anorexia nervosa [...]. This is despite anorexia nervosa making up only 8 per cent of all eating disorders. (loc. 263)

A quick count from the table of contents—4 essays on BED; 5 essays on bulimia; 11 essays on anorexia; 4 essays on ARFID; 3 essays on OSFED; and 2 essays on other ED-related topics. That's a total of 29 essays (plus introductions, interludes, etc.), which puts the proportion of essays about anorexia at...38 percent. Now, it's unusual that the book covers ARFID and OSFED in any detail, and I appreciate that—ARFID in particular is so rarely discussed. But 'there are misconceptions' is true for any of the disorders discussed in this book, and even if anorexia had been skipped altogether there still would have been material for this book plus a sequel plus a few more sequels talking about some of the un-talked-about aspects, and myths vs. reality, of eating disorders. I've read...okay, not everything out there, but a significant proportion of everything out there, on the topic, and I'm not convinced that there's anything so new in here as to claim that the emphasis should remain on anorexia. Very much reads to me as though anorexia is still the most acceptable eating disorder to write about.

It's an interesting book for the mix of topics, but I think the most valuable parts are the in the sections of the book that have been given the least space, such as when someone with atypical anorexia (all the symptoms of anorexia but a bigger body) asks How can I find comfort in a community that has the common fear of looking like me? How can I recover when people automatically assume that I have a binge eating disorder just by looking at me? (loc. 3112)—and in the in-between sections of the book by people who have the credentials to back up their expertise rather than claiming to be an 'expert by experience' (loc. 2029). I loved seeing the essays on ARFID and atypical anorexia in particular, because there's so little out there about them, but if you're looking for something outside the box this book is probably most useful for those few essays.

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

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

Review: "Waiting for the Flood" by Alexis Hall

Waiting for the Flood by Alexis Hall
Published February 2024 via Sourcebooks Casablanca
★★★

In Oxford, Edwin isn't quite drowning—but he's been treating water for so long that it's hard to remember what it felt like to be on dry land. And not so far away, his ex-husband Marius is floundering too, knowing just what he has lost but powerless to change some of the things most important to him.

This volume contains two novellas—Waiting for the Flood, Edwin's story, and then Chasing the Light, Marius's story. Two love stories, not one; by the time Waiting for the Flood opens their love story together is, well, too deep underwater for rescue. For Edwin, it's about figuring out that that's okay and finding a way to move on, while for Marius, the goal is in part to backtrack and learn to say the things that he never could.

Hall's books have been a bit hit-or-miss for me, which is fine—not every book by an author needs to be a personal hit. This one's somewhere in between: I like that Edwin has a stammer, and that it's just an accepted part of who he is rather than something any of the characters try to change, I like the recurring theme of water-water-everywhere, I like the way Marius's parents barge in as needed, and so on and so forth. I'm not as sold on the writing of Waiting for the Flood in particular; I believe it was one of the earlier books Hall published, and it feels quite overwritten in places. Maybe it's just the way Edwin thinks, but (I'm doomed to say this in half my reviews of Hall's books, I swear) it gives me the impression of a (good) writer who read a lot of angsty fanfiction once upon a time. Chasing the Light still has a fair amount of angst, but—perhaps because it's more recent—the writing feels more streamlined too. I'd say perhaps 3 stars for Waiting and 3.5 for Chasing.

Not sure I'll pick up any of the other books in this world, but I'm still eagerly awaiting book three in Hall's "Winner Bakes All" series.

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

Review: "The Still Point" by Tammy Greenwood

The Still Point by Tammy Greenwood
Published February 2024 via Kensington
★★★★

Bea's dancing has been one of few bright spots in her mother Ever's life this past year, which saw the loss of Ever's husband and financial stability—and with a scholarship on the line, suddenly this season of dance matters more than ever. But Ever and Bea aren't the only ones desperate for that scholarship: Bea's onetime best friend Olive dances at the same studio, as does her nemesis Savvy...not to mention the other girls who dream of dancing in Paris. Not to mention their parents.

This is mostly a book about those parents: Ever, of course; and her best friend Lindsay, who might be more invested in Olive's dance prospects than Olive is; and Josie, who dreams of seeing Savvy having an independence—without relying on a man—that she herself never really had.

Greenwood is herself a dance mom—in the author's note, she describes the book as a "love letter" and "also a story of what happens when ambition becomes a dark thing" (loc.152*). But it's fiction, fortunately, a version of dark ambition that neither she nor her daughter experienced.

Ballet books are one of those things that I have no personal stake in but love reading anyway, which means that I've inevitably read my fair share of the darker side of things—ground glass in pointe shoes and all. (You'd better believe that made me nervous when a certain character was gifted some pointe shoes...) But this is the restrained side of dark, and it's better for it: yes, there are characters, numerous characters, who do not always act as stand-up members of society...but even when they're being petty and unkind, jealous and calculating, we can see where they're coming from and why.

A side note: There's a point(e) to be made here about the ways in which people who are successful (or attractive, or confident, or all of the above) in certain spheres are allowed to get away with far more than they should—the way a particular male character is allowed to run rampant through the pages, tossing out small grenades and then smirking to see them land. He is not in himself particularly interesting, but the blind eye that so many other characters turn is.

All round a satisfying read. I believe I've had my eye on one or two of the author's other books for quite some time, so I may have to bump those up the queue.

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

*I read an ARC, and quotes may not be final.

Review: "Mystery of the Skinny Sophomore" by Jerry B. Jenkins

Mystery of the Skinny Sophomore by Jerry B. Jenkins
Published 1989 via Moody Pub
★★

Primary takeaway: The author had been contracted to write a religious Teen Issue Book...but all he wanted to do was write about baseball. His solution: write about baseball, slip in the occasional reference to a Teen Issue, and solve it all with God. Very nearly the first half of the book (which, to be fair, is a wee little thing, slimmer even than the anorexic character of the book) is taken up by the book's first baseball game. There's a quick check-in with our anorexic Teen Issue character, then back to baseball. Another quick check-in for some Teen Issue drama and fainting (somehow the only person a sick teenager trusts to talk to is an eleven-year-old boy she barely knows?)...then back to baseball.

That's enough Teen Issue Book for me for now, but I'm amused to see that most of the other descriptions in this series say something about 'besides playing all their favorite sports...' I'm thinking this writer found a niche the publisher would pay for and ran with it—through as many bases as he could steal.

Children's books: "The Princess and the Pee", "If I Were a Fungus", and "Starlight, Shine Bright"

The Princess and the Pee by Effua Gleed, illustrated by Juanita Londoño Gaviria (Frances Lincoln Children's Books)
If I Were a Fungus by Gaia Stella, translated by Nanette McGuinness (Millbrook Press)
Starlight, Shine Bright by Kalyn Lady (Everlasting Words)

In The Princess and the Pee, Princess Amma has a dream life—until she goes to bed, when her dream becomes a nightmare. Every morning, when she wakes up, the sheets are wet, and the palace has to hustle and bustle to make things right again. Her mother has suggested things and her father has suggested things and the servants have suggested things and nothing has worked—what's a stressed-out princess to do?

The illustrations here are wonderful and playful (Amma's hair, oh my gosh). I love how thoroughly supportive everyone is, and that the book acknowledges that pushing for a solution can be something of an anti-solution in and of itself. Amma's lucky to have the grandmother she does. As a bonus, Amma and her family are Black (and the palace staff is diverse), and I am always just happy to see stories with casual but overt diversity. (More stories that non-white kids can see themselves in, please!)

All told, a thoroughly well designed and thought-out book that may provide some comfort for little kids struggling with bed-wetting, but also with nightmares or anxiety.

Here's one for the curious kiddos in your life: If I Were a Fungus imagines, well, life as a fungus, with the ability to eat without chewing and to be in multiple places (and at multiple birthday parties!) at once. Spare but full-page illustrations bring a further hint of whimsy to the whole thing, and a fact section at the end brings in some more hard-and-fast information.

This one will definitely be a lot of fun for both curious and imaginative kids—pretty much demands that you ask the follow-up question, "If you were a fungus, where would you go?"! You should probably expect to be answering some follow-up questions of your own, too, which seems like a pretty good outcome for a picture book. An excellent fit for a kindergarten classroom library, an outdoorsy kid, or a future scientist.

Starlight, Shine Bright is a brief, spare story about finding one's inner light and letting it shine for others to see.

The illustrations are dreamy and doll-like, focused on the same unnamed character on the front of the book. I have no way of knowing whether AI was involved in the illustrations, though (as a non-artist!) that would be my guess—partly the art style and partly some occasional tiny oddities in the girl's face (e.g., look closely at her ears as the images change, or the few images with visible hands). I suspect the images will especially appeal to small children who are interested in dolls and princesses and faeries—and, partly because the clothing also changes throughout, if more of the pictures were full-length they would make fantastic paper dolls.

Overall, a positive message and lots of visual appeal.

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

Review: "Fish Out of Water" by Katie Ruggle

Fish Out of Water by Katie Ruggle
Published February 2024 via Sourcebooks Casablanca
★★★★

Dahlia isn't made for the woods, but when her sister is in trouble, Dahlia will do anything to get to her—even if that requires tracking down a reclusive (hot, young) mountain man to be her wilderness guide. (Oh, the hardship.)

I'd like all of my romance novels from here on out to take place in the woods, please and thank you. Between that and Dahlia's very cheerful willingness to go out of her comfort zone (see: the vast majority of the book taking place in the woods), I had a fine old time reading this. I acknowledge and accept my predictability in being drawn to yet another hiking book, but...keep them coming, please.

Do note that the book requires a willingness to suspend disbelief. How Dahlia manages to stay quite so sunshine in this very grumpy-sunshine book (more on that on a moment) even when her sister is missing and perhaps worse defies all logic; later revelations about Winston, while certainly not impossible, feel unlikely without a bit more fleshing out of his character. Suspending disbelief is not my strength, but I make exceptions, and I guess romance-in-the-woods-with-a-game-heroine is one of them. Dahlia's game-ness is really important here—she makes no bones about the fact that she doesn't know the first thing about hiking and camping, but she never complains or loses her cool over it, because a bit of discomfort isn't her biggest priority.

Now, the trope: it's trope-ing. I'm on record as being, well, over the proliferation of a small number of tropes in recent romance, but it doesn't get in the way here, perhaps because I haven't read all that much of this particular trope of late or perhaps because it seems more realistic than some other tropes (easier to imagine a talkative person winning over an outwardly surly person than it is to imagine quite so much fake dating as I see in romance novels). It also helps a lot that Winston is never really all that grumpy—shy and reserved, yes, but never snappish.

Dahlia's sunshine-ness goes a bit far at times, though—for example, I struggled to believe just how much she manages to relax and flirt and take her time and so on when she's worried about her sister. (To be fair, the situation is unclear—for much of the book we don't know if Rose is dead in a ditch following her SOS or if the SOS was more along the lines of 'I'm going through some things and want you to process them with me'.) I also find it hard to believe that there's not a word of concern about minor things like body odor after multiple days of strenuous hiking and...other activities...because although that sort of thing is definitely not romance-novel sexy, it is hiking-and-camping realistic (and...I'm a bit literal sometimes).

Still, if you can suspend some of that disbelief, this is fun and hit the spot. I don't reread romance all too often, but I'm sticking this on a just-in-case mental list of 'books that might re-entertain me when I'm dreaming of the woods and want something light'.

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

Review: "Everywhere the Undrowned" by Stephanie Clare Smith

 

Everywhere the Undrowned by Stephanie Clare Smith
Published February 2024 via The University of North Carolina Press
★★★★

It was the summer of secrets and imaginary numbers. (loc. 368*)

1973: Smith's mother set off for the summer, leaving fourteen-year-old Smith alone in their home. In theory, Smith was supposed to use the time to thrive; in practice, she found herself fighting—sometimes literally—for survival.

Sorrow's tears look like an aerial photo after a tornado has blown out half the town. The high school is gone. All you can see are the foundations and angles where homes used to stand and well-traveled streets are now broken in half. But the tears full of laughter have swimming pools in back yards and parks full of swings—the town before the tornado arrived. (loc. 522)

The book takes on a somewhat dreamy structure, slipping easily from one moment into the next, tied together with imaginary numbers and difficult growth. It took me a moment to get into the writing, but once I was in, I was more or less captivated throughout. It's an emotionally complicated story, focusing on that 1973 summer and the way the summer's events reverberated but also taking Smith deep into adulthood, to (and through) the point at which she became her mother's caregiver for good. Smith explores what it means to be a caregiver, especially when the person for whom you are caring has in fact failed to care for you—again, complicated and without easy answers.

Beautifully written and with a depth disproportionate to the book's short length.

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

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

Review: "How You Get the Girl" by Anita Kelly

How You Get the Girl by Anita Kelly
Published February 2024 via Forever
★★★★

We all have a childhood hero(ine) or two, and we don't expect them to walk into our place of work...but for Julie, that's exactly what happens when Elle, a former basketball star who was a few years ahead of Julie at university, turns out to be the guardian of the newest student on the high-school basketball team Julie coaches. Occasional brush-ins turn into Elle becoming an assistant coach turns into...well, this is a romance novel.

This is a four-stars-and-a-caveat book for me. Kelly writes well, and these are fully fleshed out characters with interesting stories and (hurray) some solid doses of common sense. Things don't always go to plan (as well they shouldn't, in a romance novel), but I am always thrilled by the bare basics of healthy communication between romantic leads. (I grew up with very mediocre category romance and bodice rippers and haven't actually expanded from that as much as one might expect when it comes to the romance I read, so my standards are in some ways shockingly low. Rest assured that we get more than the bare basics here.) One of my favorite things here is how Julie and Elle's athleticism is treated: at their prime, they were both very, very good...but they weren't the best, and that's okay. They're no longer at their prime, and they recognize that, and that's okay too. It makes for a nice sense of balance and realism that you don't always get in romance.

The caveat: This isn't specific to this book, but golly gee I'm over the TikTok tropes. Again, Kelly has the writing chops to pull it off, but it's starting to feel like every big-publisher romance I read lately has been written with #EnemiesToLovers or #FakeDating or #GrumpyAndSunshine in mind. Grumpy millennial and all that (and I know full well that these tropes aren't new), but I suppose I just prefer plots that feel like they could happen in a version of the real life that I know (see: Julie and Elle's quiet, not-a-megastar lives). When was the last time anyone you knew started a fake romance or fell head over heels for their sworn enemy or whatever? Not that it's physically impossible, but...given the choice, I lean toward both real-like scenarios and romance-novel setups that feel a bit more plausible.

Ah well. On a less rant-y note: If you read Love & Other Disasters and Something Wild & Wonderful you'll recognize some of the secondary characters here—Kelly makes good use of them, keeping them to scenes that move plot and character development forward rather than just serving as a reminder of those characters' previous happily-ever-afters. (Did make me a bit bummed that there's not a lesbian version of Something Wild & Wonderful, but...what can you do!) The books can all be read as standalones and feel quite distinct, but there's plenty for fans of the earlier books as well.

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

Review: "Good Christian Girls" by Elizabeth Bradshaw

Good Christian Girls by Elizabeth Bradshaw
Published February 2024 via Bold Strokes Books
★★★

Jo doesn't want to be at Bible camp—she wants to be at science camp. But since the incident, her family is worried that she needs more Jesus in her life, so...to Bible camp it is. Meanwhile, Lacey can barely conceive of anything other than Bible camp; her parents own and run Camp Lavender, and it's where she's been raised and homeschooled. She's seen year after year of campers come and go...but Jo is the first one to make her question the singular way of viewing the world that she's been taught.

I approach this subgenre of queer-teens-in-hyperconservative-environments with a certain amount of trepidation, but this was a lucky find. Jo and Lacey's stories are subtle—Jo understands who she is better than Lacey does at the beginning of the book (and the summer), and though Lacey starts to figure things out herself, there's only so much growth and change that she can do in one summer. Better, this isn't a fire-and-brimstone camp with an underbelly of abuse: it's a camp in which well-intentioned adults with some specific beliefs are genuinely trying to do right by their charges...even if they can't always see that their one-size-fits-all way of life, uh...doesn't fit all. This isn't a conversion camp; it's a good place for many of the girls, and even Jo—who doesn't want to be there—is observant enough to notice that there are girls for whom it's probably the only place they fit in.

Writing-wise, I think it took part of the book for the author to find her stride (the dual first-person doesn't really help), and there are some logistical things that don't quite line up—first Lacey never ever shares her poetry, and then a few pages later we learn that she's been posting it online for weeks; she doesn't get much interaction on her posts, but Jo is able to find her account immediately because it's a popular one; it doesn't occur to Lacey to wonder why, by the middle of summer, her top-choice college hasn't gotten back to her; etc. There are also a number of side plots that go nowhere and could easily have been cut out. But...I also suspect the author is writing from personal experience here, and that even if she was never a (queer) preacher's daughter living at Bible camp, she knows quite well what it is to be a sheltered, religious kid starting to figure out a bit more of the world. Again, it helps a lot that this is a pretty understated story, with no furious Bible-thumping or closed-door beatings or dramatic escapes in the middle of the night—well, maybe the last one, but you can read the book if you want the details.

This is one for readers looking for something more coming-of-age than romance—it's a better book for it.

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

Review: "My Side of the River" by Elizabeth Camarillo Gutierrez

My Side of the River by Elizabeth Camarillo Gutierrez
Published February 2024 via St. Martin's Press
★★★★

They both knew from experience that the world simply wouldn't favor a brown uneducated Mexican girl. They knew how much of an advantage a good American education would be for their American daughter. They wanted the best for me. (loc. 133*)

Growing up in Arizona, Elizabeth Camarillo Gutierrez knew that her parents worked themselves to the bone and struggled to get by—she lived it too. But it wasn't until she was a teenager that things changed irrevocably: her parents were denied visa renewals, and they couldn't get back into the US. With an American birth certificate and American passport, she could stay to get the education and future her parents wanted so desperately for her...but she'd have to do it alone.

Before I even understood the concept of citizenship, I knew I was protected in a way that they weren't. They were always aware of authority figures, making themselves smaller around cops and the law, hiding—something I didn't feel the need to do. "If you every feel unsafe, go to the police," my parents instructed. Unlike them, I didn't need to hide. (loc. 184)

And so Camarillo Gutierrez became homeless and parentless, because none of the options for the present were good but this would at least give her a better chance for the future. It's worth noting that these are decisions that most Americans don't have to make—one might have to decide which divorced parent to live with, or whether or not to go to boarding school, but far less often to stay where one's parents cannot follow or to figure out everything from housing to food alone because of this. It's a devastating situation to consider, and one that Camarillo Gutierrez describes with precision and clear eyes.

I won't say too much about where this journey took her (read the book to find out), but I found the earlier parts of the book, as Camarillo Gutierrez was getting through primary and secondary school, to be most compelling. I think that's partly because some of her later experiences are ones I've heard before, in various forms—not to suggest that they aren't worth hearing again, but...there's something particularly visceral about a child knowing that their parents cannot come if they are needed, no matter how desperately they want to. Too, I think the focus gets diluted somewhat—the earlier parts of the book cover some broader racism and xenophobia but narrow in on the ways that certain laws and government policies continue to fail citizens like Camarillo Gutierrez; later that expands again to the more general racism that Camarillo Gutierrez was (is) up against as a brown woman in places where white voices dominate. I can't fault her for including that very valid part of her story, but it's the earlier parts that will stick with me.

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

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

Children's books: Sisters: "My Sister and Me", "Big Sister, Long Coat", and "Best Believe"

My Sister and Me by Joanna Estrela (Orca Book Publishers)
Big Sister, Long Coat by Nelly Buchet, illustrated by Rachel Katstallar (NorthSouth Books)
Best Believe by NoNieqa Ramos, illustrated by Nicole Medina (Carolrhoda Books)

Into the world of children's books...this time, starring the power of sisters!

In My Sister and Me—a story rather reminiscent of My Naughty Little Sister (which I adored as a child)—Estrela gives voice to an older sister who is learning to love and live with her younger sister. With rough drawings (the story is told as though a letter from older sister to younger sister, and with sketches that the older sister might have done) and simple language we see the younger sister creating chaos and the older sister stumbling on through.

This is perhaps not one for parents who expect their older children to be perfect baby angels who adore their new siblings on first sight...but it might be a good fit for older siblings who are struggling with a new addition to the family. It's an empathetic book, without being too on the nose about it.

Meanwhile, Big Sister, Long Coat makes for a lovely sister story with external tension rather than internal. Two unnamed sisters are out on the town for the day—but not everything goes as planned.

The text here is spare and the illustrations simple, with muted colors, but they manage to convey quite a lot—even when the younger sister is unhappy with the situation, it's clear that she trusts her older sister as a source of comfort and is sure that her sister can somehow make it right. This is probably best suited to younger readers, but slightly older kids (especially older sisters!) might get a kick out of it as well. There's no lesson here, just a feel-good story (and, okay, a reminder that a day can be great even with unexpected changes in plans). Look out for fun little details, too, like an umbrella-toting mouse or an elephant peeking out from behind a curtain...

And finally, Best Believe is a testament to women unafraid to use their voices to inspire change. It tells the tale of three sisters—Evelina, Lillian, and Elba—who moved from Puerto Rico to the Bronx as children. Coming of age in the 1940s, they saw (and felt firsthand) how many barriers to success people of color faced...and they set about doing something about it. Together and separately, they fought for affordable and equal education, libraries (and library resources) for all, programs to ensure kids had enough to eat during the summer, and more.

The illustrations are a little hit or miss for me—I like them in general, but the kids' faces tend to look prematurely lined—but I absolutely love seeing more children's nonfiction about unsung heroes, and this is no exception. This would make an excellent addition to school libraries, especially in places with large Hispanic populations—more diversity in libraries, and more chances for kids to see people from their communities represented in books, always. I'll add that the unsung hero of the book is the women's mother, who was a single parent. The book doesn't say a ton about her (I'm guessing there's just not that much out there), but you have to be doing something right to raise three powerhouses for change.

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

Review: "Please Tell Me" by Mike Omer

Please Tell Me by Mike Omer
Published November 2023 via Thomas & Mercer
★★★

A missing girl is found, miraculously, alive—but unable to talk about the months she spent in captivity. And her therapist is gradually more and more disturbed by what the girl is able to communicate through play therapy... There's a delightful level of creepiness to this, and a gradually rising level of tension. I like that it takes a while before we understand the full details of what happened, and—better—there's a gradually built foreshadowing of whodunnit that raises red-herring hackles, and it's not clear until the end whether that's, well, a red herring or a result. I'm also fond of the dollhouse plotline, for various reasons, and I suspect a lot of readers will relate on something of a nostalgic level.

That said...first, Evil Villains Who Are Evil. I've gone on record many times as finding this uninteresting, because I prefer villains who have complexity to their motivations to villains who are just straight-up unhinged. Second, the romance here feels incredibly rote and unnecessary, shoved in because apparently romance is now a required part of murder mysteries. And third...there's a surprising amount of COVID in here for a book that takes place in 2022. Don't get me wrong—in 2022 I was still masking the hell out of my life, self-testing regularly, avoiding crowds, and planning my travel carefully. But I also spent half the year accompanying an immunocompromised relative to hospital appointments, and you'd better believe that I was hyperaware of just how much the rest of the world had moved on from taking precautions. It felt a bit odd to see so many characters here still stressing about it so much, because while I understand, I also find it hard to believe.

Overall a solid enough read, but the COVID plot doesn't bring enough of a twist to make this stand out.

Review: "WTF Berlin" by Jacinta Nandi

WTF Berlin by Jacinta Nandi
Published 2022 via Satyr Verlag
★★★

I'll keep it short: This was entertaining and at times even informative, but I tired pretty quickly of the format (Berlin by the ABCs, basically) and what felt at times like overwhelming negativity. That is: you don't have to love everything about the place you're living! Perfectly reasonable to criticize! Criticize away! But...when anything you might like about that place gets completely lost in the sarcasm and jadedness...at what point does one say, gently, 'Is this still the right place for you?'

My s.o. also read this and thought this was like a subgenre a friend was grousing about recently—twentysomething expats writing heavily autobiographical fiction about their exploits, written to appeal primarily to other expats. But I think this is more...what those twentysomething expats writing heavily autobiographical fiction write twenty years later.

This is largely compiled from a column Nandi wrote (writes?), as I understand it, and maybe I'd prefer it in column form, where one is only getting small doses at a time. Glad I read it, but if it falls off the shelves into a 'donate' pile, I'll shrug and hope it goes to a more appreciative home.