Review: "We Loved to Run" by Stephanie Reents

 

We Loved to Run by Stephanie Reents
Published August 2025 via Hogarth
★★★★

On a day like this when the whole world unspooled slowly and leisurely, we loved to run. (loc. 1316*)

It's the early 90s, and at a small liberal arts college in Massachusetts, the women's cross country team is on fire. They are smart, and they are fast, and they swing between being the closest of close friends and being ready to tear each other's throats out. They are all fast, but some of them are faster; some of them are faster, but the slower runners' times count, too, in their meet placements. They are all thin, but some of them are thinner; some of them are thinner, but some of them know how dangerous that slippery slide can be. They tell each other secrets and break each other's confidences; they push each other to be their best and knock each other down; they run.

Reents plots a course here that is partly in third person singular and partly in first person plural: Emotions did not behave predictably under physical duress. We loved each other, too, the love as dark and sticky and intense as blackstrap molasses. (loc. 116) There are too many characters to follow each one closely, but a few are highlighted and a few more run through the chapters again and again. Some of them are more palatable than others, but that's kind of the point. In some ways I found Harriet and Chloe to be the most interesting characters, Harriet because she subverts a lot of literary expectations of how a character with an eating disorder is written, and Chloe because she can't quite get a grip on her teammates finding her tedious.

What you make of the book will probably depend largely on how you feel about the first person plural. It worked for me, but I think partly because we also had those sections in a single character's head. (Having numerous POV characters also allows for multiple dramas, small and large, which never hurts...) I'm guessing that the choice of timing (the 90s rather than a contemporary setting) has something to do with Reents's own experience as a college runner, but regardless, it was a nice choice; I think I wouldn't mind reading a bit more fiction set in, say, the 80s through early 2000s—contemporary enough, but minus everyone being constantly glued to their cell phones and social media.

*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: "Jesusland" by Joelle Kidd

Jesusland by Joelle Kidd
Published August 2025
★★★★

It's strange the responses you garner when you tell strangers, friends, and new acquaintances that you're writing a book about "evangelical Christian pop culture of the 2000s." (loc. 25*)

As a child, Kidd knew enough to fall in line with the people around her—but inside, questions burned. As an adult, having stepped away and looked back, she returns to ask just what it was that she went through—and why evangelical pop culture is so powerful.

I'm reminded of Rapture Ready!, which I read more than a decade ago. Where Rapture Ready! investigates the phenomenon of Christian pop culture (think: books and bookstores, movies, theme parks, and on it goes) from an outsider's perspective, Kidd was in it—she knows just how insidious the messaging can be.

Ideas about gender were being marketed alongside, and becoming entangled with, religion. Every pink Bible and God's Precious Daughter T-shirt was also selling a script, and every glossy issue dropped in a millennial teen's mailbox had lots to say—about purity, modesty, and gender compliancy. (loc. 365)

I escaped this particular phenomenon when I was growing up (merry heathens and all that), but as an adult I find it fascinating, even moreso in light of the current political situation. Kidd did not grow up in the US, so her experience of evangalical religion was in some ways more muted than what we see in the US, but in other ways...well, her school was stocking the Left Behind books, and mine was not. A lot of this book ends up being about power (who has it, and how they're using it to amass more power and more money) and the ways in which certain savvy individuals and organizations have capitalized on...on a willingness to buy anything branded with a particular set of beliefs, I suppose. And the ways in which pop culture has been used to twist those beliefs and dig them in deeper and deeper.

It's a disturbing book but an interesting one. Probably the best fit for those who have a little more American evangelical Christian background than I do (and who can look back with at least one eyebrow raised), but also one for those who just, you know. Read the news and are a little too curious sometimes.

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

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

Review: "Starting from Here" by Paula Sanders

Starting from Here by Paula Sanders
Published August 2025 via Random House
★★★

René dreams of dancing—but 1970s South Dakota is nobody's first thought when it comes to ballet. And so René finds herself living with strangers in Arizona, in Colorado, in a precarious existence designed to somehow get her to a place her family can't really understand.

This is a fairly quiet story, designed to peel away whatever glamorous veneer the reader has attached to ballet and show the grit—the unsophisticated grind—behind it. René's parents support her dancing, but they also resent the financial burden; her mother, in particular, seems to resent that René has opportunities that she was never afforded. What she doesn't see is the cost those opportunities carry for René, who understands early on that hers will be a lonely journey and one with precious little comfort.

I read this as a standalone book, but after finishing I looked up the author and saw that her previous book features the same characters, just younger; I wonder now whether this is best read as part of a family saga. (In the context of a first book, and based on where this book ends, it would not surprise me if there were to be a third book in the future, following René's early days in...well, her next adventures. I wonder, too, how autobiographical these books are meant to be (not that it matters, of course, but I'm afraid I'm perpetually—even terminally—curious).

One of the two things that interest me most is the understated nature of René's experiences. Or—I'm not sure "understated" is the right word. Rather, she has some dramatic moments and lands in some dangerous situations, but they're just part of her broader experience rather than single defining moments of the book. It makes for a very coming-of-age feeling for the book but also leaves some things feeling a bit unresolved. (Again, I wonder whether this book is best read in tandem with The Distance Home.)

The second thing that interests me is the focus on...I'm not sure how to put this. The focus on someone who isn't "making it" in the traditional sense but who is striving towards her dreams nonetheless, I suppose. René wants to dance in New York—she doesn't know the ballet world well enough to be more specific than that—but she's from a working-class South Dakota family; this is not a story of a girl studying at top-tier studios or elite academies, and it's not a story of a girl who is going to be scouted and catapulted into success. She also doesn't have laser focus; she's a teenager who gets distracted and somtimes makes questionable decisions. It's an everygirl story, the sort that is more realistic and more common but seems less told in fiction.

One for a day when you want something quiet and low-drama.

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

Review: "The Burning Season" by Caroline Starr Rose

The Burning Season by Caroline Starr Rose
Published May 2025 via Nancy Paulson Books
★★★★

Opal is a fourth-generation fire lookout—or she will be, now that she's turned twelve and can start learning the ropes for real. She's grown up in a fire tower in the Gila National Forest, living with her mother and grandmother. But Opal has a secret: she's afraid of fire. She'd rather go to school in town, in person, next year instead.

Fire lookout has long been on my list of dream jobs, ever since I read Philip Connors' Fire Season. Rose takes certain liberties here (among other things, as she observes in the author's note, Opal and her family wouldn't be living in a lookout tower year-round, and Opal wouldn't be living there at all), but those liberties are taken with a purpose, and the result is great. There's lots of detail about fire here, including the importance of letting some fires burn (because trying to stamp out every flame is what has led to recent megafires...), and Opal is altogether relatable. I read this in an evening (novels in verse go quickly) and would have kept reading.

Review: "Misty Copeland" by Henry Leutwyler

Misty Copeland by Henry Leutwyler
Published Septemeber 2023 via Steidl
★★★

Gorgeous pictures, of course (I don't imagine that Misty Copeland takes very many bad pictures), but o how I wished for more text!

This is a coffee-table book full of photos that could easily be framed and hung on walls. It's a mix of poses—in some photos Copeland is simply standing; there are a few close-ups (e.g., on her pointe shoe); in some photos she has taken flight. But the words are few: there's a page of commentary on page 8 about 1) a single photograph and 2) the way in which Copeland and Leutwyler are both artists, and this is the product of their mediums working in tandem. And then there's an author's note on page 68, about how Leutwyler met Copeland and they started working together.

And again, make no mistake: the pictures are lovely. But...I'd love for them to tell more of a story, and barring that, I'd love more words. The ankle and foot in battered pointe shoe on page 6: how close to dead is that shoe, and what is the brand, and did it come in a color other than light pink or did (as I suspect) Copeland have to color-match it herself? The pictures on pages 12 and 28 where Copeland is folded in on herself, first on pointe and in a black leotard, and then feet flat and in a white leotard: how did those come about? (They are striking, and they are unlike any ballet that I have seen.) How did Leutwyler (or the publisher) decide on the cover photo, in which the only things that give Copeland away as a ballerina rather than a non-ballerina athlete are 1) her pointe shoes and 2) the fact that she has Misty Copeland's face? (There's a pair of photos, taken front and back, in which Copeland is on pointe on one foot and in full extension over her head with the other, and dang it, they'd have made a great pair for front and back covers.)

In what is far and away my favourite photo of the bunch, on page 58, Copeland is again on pointe, one foot raised high above her head. Her arms are crossed—casually—and she's looking a little above the camera, unperturbed, maybe a bit thoughtful. Unfortunately I have a conscience, or I would tear it out of the library book and frame it for my wall. I'm guessing (semieducated, but not expert, guess) that it was one of those split-second-pose moments and a further split second later she was back with two feet on the floor, but the poise and the coolness with which she stares above the camera are impeccable.

Anyway. Gorgeous photos. One for your coffee table if you want something to flip through idly. Not one for your coffee table if you're a word nerd and like overthinking.

Review: "The New Girl" by Cassandra Calin

The New Girl by Cassandra Calin
Published June 2024 via Graphix
★★★★

Lia's not excited to move to Montreal—a new country, a new language, and getting her period all at once just seems like a bit...much. But off to Montreal it is, and she dives in, with occasionally mixed results and occasionally mixed enthusiasm, to figure it out.

This was lovely. Beautiful (and detailed) art with lots of colour, and plenty of themes to keep the book from feeling repetitive: new school, learning a new language (Lia speaks a bit of English but almost no French at the beginning of the book), family dynamics, new friendships, crushes, and on it goes. I love the friendships she builds with the other girls in her French immersion class—they all have different backgrounds, and in another context their lives might not overlap, but they're all fish out of water together and good at cheering each other on. (I did wish we could see a bit more of their lives and backgrounds!)

I read Uprooted just before this, so I was interested to see how Calin addressed different languages—here, it's a different colour of speech bubble for each language that is spoken (Romanian, French, English). Before Lia's French improves, a lot of the other characters' speech is depicted as scribbles, but the more comfortable she gets with French, the less space those scribbles take up, and the less fractured her own speech gets. It's well done.

Mostly one for the middle grade crowd, but especially for middle grade or young adult readers who are starting a similar adventure of their own.

Review: "Goat Magic" by Kate Wheeler

Goat Magic by Kate Wheeler
Published August 2025 via Oni Press
★★★★

Trill's life and magic are tied to goats—which she loves, but she also dreams of something more. And she just might find that when her story intersects with that of Alya, who is usually a princess but currently a goat...

This was super cute. I love the way Trill in particular is drawn, and her attitude is great—she's competent and a bit snarky; she's practical and stubborn in a way that she miiiight have learned from her goats. Alya has a bit more to learn; she's lived a privileged life but never had to prove herself in a real way. If anything, life as a princess has set her up to be a disappointment, and finding a way to de-goat-ify herself (and, oh yeah, save her kingdom and her mother in the process) is the first time she's had to step up in a way that has stakes.

The villain is intentionally tricky (and that's all I'll say about that), and there's plenty of tension to carry the book through. I didn't really need the romance (a platonic friendship story would have been just fine), but as written it's sweet and low-key, and very little of the tension is relationship drama, which is nice. Really, I'm mostly only sorry that Goat Magic wasn't longer—it felt complete, but I would have kept reading.

I hope this one makes it into a lot of middle school libraries.

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

Review: Short story: "Love & Other Killers" by Brynne Weaver

Love & Other Killers by Brynne Weaver
Published August 2025 via Amazon Original Stories

Is serial killing a crime if you only kill other serial killers...? Asking for a friend.

This rather gruesome short story is set in the same world (and with the same characters) as Weaver's Ruinous Love trilogy. I haven't read the trilogy, but a short story can be a pretty good way to get a feel for a series...and hey, it looks like maybe there's a character in town who's left some space for more books down the line. It can be read as a standalone, but there was definitely some context that I didn't have, so if you're planning to read more of the series, I'd start with book 1 rather than with the short story.

I say gruesome, but this is fundamentally a dark but smutty romance with some murder thrown in. I have no real complaints about that (reminds me of a particular bounty-hunter-romance series I've read some of), though I wouldn't have minded 1) a bit more care about things like leaving a trail a mile wide and covered in DNA and 2) some discussion about a live capture might be better for the sake of maybe getting some answers. But then again, maybe there's more of that in the full-length books...

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

Review (Deutsch): "Was du nicht erwartest" von Jan Cole

Was du nicht erwartest von Jan Cole
Herausgegeben von Monika Fuchs, Juni 2022
★★★★

Ich denke, ich sollte die Geschichte von vorne erzählen, doch leider weiß ich nicht genau, wo der Anfang eigentlich liegt. (loc. 2486)

Eine Geschichte in einer Geschichte! Hier haben wir zwei Teenager, die nicht genau wissen, wie sie in der Welt passen. Nik ist Autist und kann nicht verstehen, warum so viele Leute sich so unlogisch handeln. Mai ist magersüchtig und kann nicht verstehen, das ihre Krankheit ganz gefährlich ist. Und zusammen beginnen sie ein Abenteuer...

Am Anfang habe ich etwas ein bisschen anders erwartet. Die beide Figuren finden sich in einem Programm für Teenagers mit Problemen—nicht wirklich eine neue Geschichte (aber immer noch etwas, dass ich lesen werde...). Nik ist da, weil er wissen wollte, ob er in ein Mädchen namens Stella verliebt ist; er hat ein Experiment probiert, das schlecht lief. (Nicht problematisch—Nik ist ein guter Typ—nur schlecht, weil es ihm schwerfällt, die meisten Menschen, z.B. seine Mutter, zu verstehen.) Ich hatte gedacht, vielleicht ist das Mädchen im Programm Stella...aber nicht.

Es dauert nicht lange, bis Nik und Mai etwas, naja, ganz dumm probieren. (Sie sind Teenager!) Und dann haben wir etwas ganz interessantes, und ganz Neues: die Geschichte in einer Geschichte, die Jan Cole Bücher, die Druckerei... Und durch alles, Nik lernt ein bisschen von der Welt, und Mai...Mai hat ihre Dämonen, die sie nicht als Dämonen erkennt.

Normalerweise lese ich ganz langsam auf Deutsch, aber mit Was du nicht erwartest sind die letzten Kapitel nur so geflogen—fast dreißig Prozent des Buch in einem Tag! Beispiellos.

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.

Neue Wörter:
Urknall: Big Bang
Rotz: snot
Mühsam: laborious
zappeln: to fidget
Wangenknochen: cheekbones
Wangenknochenmädchen: cheekbone girl
Schmelztablette: dissolvable tablet
Röntgenblick: x-ray vision
Hampelmännern: jumping jacks
Folter: torture
Schachmatt: checkmate
durchgeknallt: crazy
Essichnich: not eating
ein Ass: an ace
losplappern: to chatter
Gehstock: walking stick
Elsässer: Alsatian
Katzenminze: catnip
Hellseher: clairvoyant
pfeffern: to pepper, to fling
Tippfehler: typo
Trauerweide: weeping willow

Review: "If You Don't Like This, I Will Die" by Lee Tilghman

If You Don't Like This, I Will Die by Lee Tilghman
Published August 2025 via Simon & Schuster
★★★

He wasn't interested in me. He was interested in the online version of me. At this point, I was still aware that those were two separate things. (loc. 1034*)

Millennials were the first generation to live our lives on the Internet, and though things have (obviously) changed quite a lot since the 90s and early 2000s, Tilghman was invested from the early days. Back then, it was AIM and LiveJournal and eventually the early days of Facebook. Instagram and TikTok weren't even on the horizon, and influencers didn't exist. But people were already in it for the clicks and the views and the followers—and it wasn't long before the landscape shifted, and Tilghman realized that her social media savvy could get her free stuff. Could earn her money. Could be a career.

Now...I understand that The Youths these days view influencing as a viable career path, the way my generation dreamed about being a musician or an athlete except perhaps without the requirement of outsize talent. I can't really imagine wanting it as a career path (the constant search for external validation from strangers on the Internet, but with the added pressure of that external validation being necessary to pay your bills), but for some still undetermined reason I'm invested in books on the topic. And so here we have a memoir by an influencer who got into it in the earliest days of influencing, who rode the high (and was often pretty miserable in the process), who fell down and got out—and then who jumped back in again. (Though I'd never heard of Tilghman until I saw this book, and it doesn't go into the "back in" part in any detail, so I'm not entirely sure what that means—fewer sponsored posts, more Substack?)

But what intrigues me more is the disconnect between 1) walking away from curating her life for an online audience and 2) writing something of a tell-all book that is basically a different curation of her life for public consumption. It's not a total disconnect—the story isn't "I shared my whole life online, learned the error of my ways, and am now sharing my whole life on paper"—but it is still kind of..."let me peel away the facade of the curated life I showed you online and show you an equally curated mess underneath". That's not entirely criticism; all memoir is curated, one way or another. Documentaries are curated. "Reality" TV is not just curated but masterminded. But I guess I'm left thinking that Tilghman clearly came away knowing how damaging her influencing career was for her (whether it would have been possible to do it in a healthier way, I don't know), but it's less clear that she's aware that her job was part of a broader problem. I'm left with the sense that if she'd been able to find a better work-life balance (and if she hadn't eventually faced backlash, albeit not about sponsored posts), she'd still be making her living from Instagram. Maybe not. Maybe still deleting comments asking for accountability, and maybe not. But either way, where does that leave us?

I'm still glad to have read the book. It aligns with some of my odder reading interests, and it does shed a certain degree of light on...well, if not necessarily the darker side of #influencerlife, then at least the sheer grind that can go into making a living from sponsored posts. Under other circumstances I might recommend it to teenagers who think that influencing is their dream job, but it's too explicit for me to actually follow through with that recommendation (Me, texting a friend: Welp, I'm 7% in and she's describing, in some detail, being pressed into giving a blow job to a guy she barely knew and getting caught by her father). It still makes for interesting reading, though—something to pick up if you're looking something simultaneously light and grim, or if you've been as equally curious and repelled as I have by the idea of a career built on "likes".

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

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

Review: "Uprooted" by Ruth Chan

Uprooted by Ruth Chan
Published September 2024 via Roaring Brook Press
★★★

When she was a teenager, Chan's parents uprooted her: they moved from Toronto to Hong Kong, both for a job opportunity and so that Chan's mother could be closer to her family. Chan didn't want to go: she'd only been to Hong Kong once, years earlier; her spoken Cantonese was shaky; and above all she loved her life in Toronto.

I was eager to read this, because I've read so many books about people migrating from East to West, but so many fewer about people moving from West to East—and with the latter, it's almost always adults who are making the move of their own volition rather than because their parents have made the decision. Plus, I've never been to Hong Kong, and I like reading about places where I've never been.

As a story, it's engaging. As a graphic memoir, it wasn't my favourite—the art is very cartoony, and while there's nothing wrong with that it's just rarely what I gravitate towards in a graphic memoir (or novel). I also couldn't figure out how old Chan was at the time of the story; it's not stated, and while some of the things she mentions (first kiss, etc.) made me think fourteen or fifteen, other things (the way some of the bodies are drawn) made me think ten-year-old. (The author's note tells us that she was thirteen—but that's not until the end! It made sense for the story, but I wished that had been worked into the first couple of pages.)

It was, though, interesting to see how Chan dealt with a character experiencing the world in multiple languages: some parts of dialogue is written in black, others in grey, to denote whether English or Cantonese is being spoken; Cantonese that she didn't understand at the time is written directly in Cantonese. It's effective, and it was also interesting to compare it to The New Girl, which I read on the heels of Uprooted and which took a similar route but with a twist.

Unlikely to return to this one but am glad to have had a chance to read it.

Review: "Last Stop on the Winter Wonderland Express" by Rebecca Raisin

Last Stop on the Winter Wonderland Express by Rebecca Raisin
Published August 2025 via Boldwood Books
★★★★

Aubrey is ready for her wedding day and her honeymoon on a slow train through Europe—except her fiancé, as it turns out, isn't. And so she finds herself on a solo honeymoon, seeking her solace in a merry band of solo-traveler misfits.

I'm a sucker for a travel story, and this hit some sweet spots—train travel, Scandinavia (well, for some of it), Christmas markets...it is hard to go wrong with those things. Aubrey is upset about her fiancé's abrupt ghosting, of course, but she's also pretty rational about it: she doesn't know what's next, but she's not looking for an apology and reconciliation; she's level-headed enough to take this as a sign that something wasn't right in the relationship and to go from there.

The surrounding cast of characters is eccentric. Sometimes excessively so—they all tend to talk as though they're in a 1950s movie, or a Mabel Maney book—but I guess they grew on me as time went on. It helped that Raisin leans into the absurd: when Aubrey impulsively tells someone that her husband is dead, her lie takes on a life of its own, with different travelers believing different things (and, of course, each tale getting wilder than the next). I didn't need the lie (it would have been enough of an impediment to the book's primary romance for Aubrey to say, reasonably, "I just got dumped, and I'm not ready for something new"), but if it was there...well, I enjoyed the tongue-in-cheek element.

From a writing perspective, this is middling, but Aubrey's attitude won me over: not just about her ex, but also her overall perspective on travel (lots of it, please, but on a budget) and her honest self-interrogation about what she wants in a relationship...and whether or not that involves a white picket fence. It's nice to see. (Also nice: the fiancé eventually shows up again, and multiple sane adult conversations between various characters take place. I love books with sane adult conversations about relationships.) And, by the end of the book, two of the characters are planning a Camino pilgrimage. Please, please can there be a follow-up book that takes place on the Camino...? Aubrey's sister could walk it and find a lady lover! Or some new character! And I'd get to pretend that I was on the Meseta again...

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

Review: "Hotshot" by River Selby

Hotshot by River Selby
Published August 2025 via Atlantic Monthly Press
★★★★

This may have been the exact moment I fell in love with being a hotshot. Burning was like entering an alternate dimension. My shirt was drenched but I hadn't noticed myself sweating. The drip torch became an extension of my arm, fire a liquid expelled by my body. There was no pain. I'd been totally focused, consumed like branches alchemized from solid to smoke. I was cleansed. (loc. 672*)

Selby fell into firefighting almost by accident—but it stuck, and what followed was years in and out of seasonal work, in the wild, on the fireline. Firefighting was (still is) an industry dominated by cis White men, and Selby did not fit the mold; sometimes it was possible to forget that and just be a firefighter, and sometimes the reminders came thick and fast that some of the people on the crew wanted a crew that was exclusively firemen.

I've said it before and expect I'll say it again in the not too distant future: in another life, I want to be a wildland firefighter. In the meantime, though, I'll just keep ploughing through memoir after memoir as they turn up. And what I'm learning from memoirs on the subject is this: Wildland firefighting has always been behind the times in the US; it has always focused on suppression despite centuries of evidence that some amount of fire can be a regeneration tool. And wildland firefighting is falling ever more behind the times as the effects of climate change accelerate and fires burn bigger and hotter than ever before. As Jordan Thomas does in When It All Burns, Selby dives into both past and present, excavating history to trace the path of firefighting, mismanagement, and inadequate stewardship.

Leaving was my answer to everything. (loc. 2401)

Though it is of course the same history, the tone of the books is strikingly different. While Thomas felt out of place at times for being an academic who took to firefighting as a side gig (for money and for research), once he proved himself, he was any other guy on the crew; for Selby, firefighting was a lifeline out of a traumatic upbringing, and there was never going to be the option to be "any other guy" on the crew. It's a painful read at times, but a raw and valuable one. Recommended to those interested in climate change, gender politics, fire, and/or more generally memoir.

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

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

Review: "In Berlin" by Eric Silberstein

In Berlin by Eric Silberstein
Published August 2025 via Liu Book Group
★★★★

An unlikely friendship: Anna was living a high-speed life until a medical crisis knocked her off her feet—literally. And Batul had her life planned out, medical school and all, until the war in Syria derailed her plans. They meet in the hospital where Anna is stuck in bed, at the mercy of the overworked medical staff, and Batul is using a job with the cleaning staff to improve her German while trying to get her education back on track—and their chance connection will change both their trajectories.

This is a very contemporary Berlin, and I'm here for it. What works so well for me is the way both characters are told by the people around them to limit their expectations, to give up on their dreams. It's so different and yet so alike: Anna, who wants nothing more than to do all the physical therapy she is physically capable of and eventually get back to her job, is told that she should move into a group home and be cared for by the state; Batul, who just wants to continue the education that was disrupted by war, is told that it is too difficult for a foreigner—a refugee, at that—to not only meet the requirements but to overcome the prejudice (bureaucratic and otherwise) that stands between her and medical school. Silberstein takes care not to put too fine a point on it, but there's something really lovely about these two women, whose circumstances are so different, nonetheless seeing potential in each other when nobody else cares to. (And, o irony: the same people who are telling Batul that she is a parasite for existing in Germany and trying to contribute would probably be the same ones telling Anna to give up on her dreams and let the state take care of her.)

I'm curious about the choice to set this in Berlin (as far as I can tell, Silberstein is American, though his last name suggests German heritage), but it's an excellent choice for the setup, because the context matters so much for the options Anna and Batul have. German bureaucracy hinders Batul in a different way than, say, American bureaucracy would, and speaking excellent English is helpful, but without German, her options remain limited. The book is also set in 2015, timed to coincide with the European migrant crisis. Anna, meanwhile, has better state support than she would in the US, but—like Batul—limited options in a country often tied up in red tape. (And, again, 2015: when she dreams of returning to work, she dreams only of an in-person return; remote work is not the possibility it is in 2025.)

There is a romance in the book; without getting into the details, I'm still not certain whether it was necessary...although maybe that's just me being characteristically unenthusiastic about surprise romances in books. Give me more solid-friendship books! It does go in a different direction than I anticipated, which I am glad of (that is: it is complicated rather than a happily-ever-after, when a happily-ever-after would have felt very pat). I am still less certain about the very end of the book; again, without getting into the details (no spoilers!), some (not all) of it does feel a bit pat.

Overall, though, this was wonderfully solid and engaging. Anna and Batul are both such smart, determined characters, each with her own goals and way of seeing the world. In other circumstances they wouldn't even meet, let alone form a connection, but—perhaps because they've both been written off by most of the world—they're each able to look a little closer at the other, to listen a little harder. I don't read enough science fiction to look for Silberstein's first book, but I'd read more contemporary fiction from him.

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

Review: "The Blonde Who Came in from the Cold" by Ally Carter

The Blonde Who Came in from the Cold by Ally Carter
Published August 2025 via Avon
★★★★

Book two! In The Blonde Identity, a woman woke up in the life of a spy, with no idea how she got there...but in The Blonde Who Came in from the Cold, we're following that woman's sister, who is, you know, actually a spy. This is something of a then-and-now story: in the now, Alex and King find themselves unexpectedly in danger and on the run. In the then...well, they spend a lot of time finding themselves expectedly in danger and on the run.

It is predictably unlikely. And it is a delight. You have to pay attention to what section you're in, timing-wise, because the now is now but the then moves through the past ten years, and since so many of the scenes focus on the same two characters in the same types of scenarios I sometimes needed a moment to think. But I love this sort of spy-life-as-is-only-seen-in-Hollywood book, and Carter knows what she's doing with it. Think lots of action, high octane, gadgets, jewels...oh, and a will-they-won't-they romance, of course. It's a naturally low-sugar dessert in book form—not all that nutritious, but not too sweet and completely delicious.

It's worth reading The Blonde Identity before The Blonde Who Came in from the Cold; the books are functionally standalone, but there's some significant context that will make more sense if they're read in order. Plus...that's double the fun, no?

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

Review: "Embrace Your Size" by Hara

Embrace Your Size by Hara
Translated from the Japanese by Alethea Nibley
Published November 2022 via Yen Press
★★★

Interesting look at body image (and insecurities, and positivity) in the context of Japan. I love the illustrations here—manga, which is hit or miss for me (often solely due to personal preference), but Hara conveys a lot in simple sketches, and a lot of the drawings are super cute. For the most part good messages throughout. That said, I found the book very repetitive—I think it may have been written as a series of standalone pieces, but in any case a lot of the stories/plot points were repeated over and over again.

I haven't been to Japan, but everything I've heard suggests that it's even harder there to be plus-sized than it is in the West. Hara touches on this a couple of times (in the context of wondering how things are different in other countries, and observing that for many fat women there are more clothing options in the West); I'd have loved to see the repetition trimmed out and the extra space given to some research on the subject.