Wednesday, September 30, 2026
Review: "What the Ancestors Say" by Sierra Biidaaban Nadeau
Published September 2026 via Broadleaf Books
★★★★
It strikes me as strange that Indian boarding schools are always referred to as schools. The focus of these institutions was hardly ever education. That word was just a fancy bow, designed to hide the fact that the US government was eager to exterminate Indigenous people in any way possible. (loc. 158*)
Nadeau was working on a news story—the remains of hundreds of children who attended one such school had just been found—when she stumbled across the last thing she expected: the names of family members, ones who had attended one of those schools. Nadeau knew about the Indian residential schools, of course (more detail on them in a moment, if you're not familiar); surely there is nobody in her community who does not know about them. But she didn't know how close to home that history came.
I must be missing something, I think. No one in my family has ever spoken of Indian boarding schools. No one has mentioned that entire generations of our family attended one of the largest institutions that operated in Michigan. For decades. (loc. 233)
I've been making an effort to read more from Indigenous authors lately, for a number of reasons but not least because these are voices that (still) too often go unheard. As Nadeau notes (loc. 570), the Indian boarding schools are not really about Native history; rather, they're about the history of colonization and colonizers. And yet they're part of a history that had (has) a devastating and ongoing effect across generations. These schools operated across the US and Canada, and the aim was simple: take Native children away from their culture and instruct them in the ways of the White people; teach them to be maids and cleaners and laborers so as to build a servant class while erasing entire civilizations. Some parents sent their children to these schools voluntarily (or more or less voluntarily), hoping they'd get an education, but authorities also forcibly removed many others. Mortality rates at the schools were shockingly high (I read a report recently that referenced one school, in Canada, that had a mortality rate of 47%), and those children who survived were often not allowed to go home for years at a time.
What Nadeau was able to find out about her own family's history with the residential schools is limited. Most of what she finds is then more general; some stories of individuals who survived these schools or whose family did, but much of this is broader history. I cannot fault her or the book for not including more about her family, because erasing stories was one of the things the boarding schools did well, and anyway, even if they hadn't, nobody should be required to trade on their family's pain. Personal stories do tend to resonate best with me, and because I recently did quite a bit of fact-checking on Indian boarding schools for a work project, much of the general history was familiar to me already. So...didn't learn quite as much as I might have hoped, but I'd very much recommend this to those looking to learn more on the subject.
I think of the homesick ones, the traumatized and terrorized ones, the angry ones, and those who longed to burn it all down. (loc. 1826)
*Quotes are from an ARC and may not be final.
Thanks to the author and publisher for providing a review copy through NetGalley.
Tuesday, September 29, 2026
Review: "From Beijing, with Love" by Bei Lin
Published September 2026 via Alcove Press
★★★★
Daniel's trying to push back against his instincts and be spontaneous—except, spontaneity lands him in China at the exact time that his best friend isn't around, and frankly, changes in plans are not really Daniel's forte. Luckily, his friend has booked him a local tour guide...
I do love a travel book, so this felt like an obvious fit. There's a lot going on here: Daniel is way out of his comfort zone in China, and neurodivergence impacts his experience in ways that people around him might not consider. Meanwhile, Yang—a PhD student making some extra cash as a tour guide—is putting everything he has into advancing his career, though he's hampered by the fact that what he's really passionate about does not quite align with his advisor's interests. Add to that that Daniel, a Canadian living in Amsterdam, is used to being out and proud about his sexuality, but Yang does not feel the same freedom (legal is one thing; socially accepted is another). There are a lot of reasons they shouldn't work...and yet.
Altogether, this made for a super solid read. I loved the travel details; Daniel manages to see a fair amount (and eat delicious-sounding food) while working to balance his discomfort with the unknown with his desire to go outside his comfort zone. What I liked best, though, was the way that Yang, upon registering some of the things that make navigating the unknown more difficult for Daniel than for the average traveler, adapts accordingly—figuring out the small things that can make situations a bit easier for Daniel and then treating those small things as a matter-of-fact attitude. (Honestly something that is underrepresented in romance.) I didn't really need the academic mystery in the book, but it ended up being a smaller part of the conflict than I had feared, so it worked out. I want more books like this—where the characters are fundamentally good people who are figuring things out...and where there's a bit of travel to boot.
Thanks to the author and publisher for providing a review copy through NetGalley.
Monday, September 28, 2026
Review: Short story: "High Side" by Jaime Oliveira
Published September 2026 via Amazon Original Stories
Since his accident, Billy's world has narrowed to a tiny scope: his father's (now his) failing auto-body shop. Then his brother turns up and offers him an out: rob some banks, get some cash, get out and disappear.
This is your classic action short story—most of the characters we're following are realistically the bad guys in the picture (yes, they're aiming not to injure anyone, but they're still, you know, busting into banks while carrying serious firepower.
I think I might have preferred fewer characters. They each had a role, but it was hard to be all that invested in what happened to each one when there was very limited time to get to know them. (And: Especially when some of them are less committed than others to nobody getting injured.) I'm reminded a little of Oceans Eleven, although probably that's because my pop culture references are limited and dated. Interesting to read this after The Spider Silk Scarf, which also asks the reader to sympathize with the person (or here people) committing crimes; in this one I found a bit less sympathy.
Thanks to the author and publisher for providing a review copy through NetGalley.
Sunday, September 27, 2026
Review: "Izzy, Willy-Nilly" by Cynthia Voigt
Published 1986
★★★★
It's the 80s, probably, and Izzy has it pretty good—smart enough, popular enough, a cheerleader, a happy home life. And then she goes out with a popular older boy, and in a moment her life changes forever.
This was a childhood favourite—for whatever reason, I never got around to reading Voigt's Tillerman Cycle books, but I read and reread Izzy, Willy-Nilly and The Wings of a Falcon (reading this one triggered a reread of that) as a tweenager. Here, Izzy loses her leg in a car crash and has to deal with the fallout: the permanent physical effects, of course, but also the way she understands her place in the world and the way other people interact with her.
This was the 80s, remember: Izzy has very little context for physical disability, and she can't exactly open up TikTok and search for people with similar experiences. It's safe to say that Izzy's life has been very sheltered and that her bubble has been very white and very privileged. She has excellent medical care and excellent familial support, but her friends quite frankly don't know what to do with her now that she falls outside their norm. (Like: a friend calling while Izzy is still in hospital to make sure that Izzy is going to protect the boy who drove drunk...? Hopefully in a modern-day version of the book their friendship would not survive, purely on this basis.)
But on the whole, this stands up to the test of time. There are some extremely 80s attitudes, yes (Izzy's understanding of race is one of them), but there's also a lot of interesting work around privilege and class and friendship and priorities. Needs to be taken within its context, but I'd read this again in a decade or two.
Friday, September 25, 2026
Review: "Someday Perfect" by Kat Schneider
Published April 2026 via Random House Graphic
★★★★
Meg is off to Bible camp for the summer. She'll be back with her friends, and after a recent switch to public school it's something of a relief to be back around people who share an upbringing. But this year, she's also starting to feel the restrictions of Bible camp in ways that she hasn't before, and starting to notice the differences in how boys and girls are treated. And there's a boy, and she likes him, and she thinks he likes her too—but the rules make it hard to know what to do about it.
This was a very highly anticipated book for me this year. I've read a strange amount about conservative American Christianity for someone who did not grow up with religion, but then, conservative American Christianity feels more and more politically relevant these days. And Someday Perfect feels so terribly on point and aligned with just about everything else I have read on the subject. Meg loves Bible camp...but she isn't so sure that camp is fair. She believes what her parents and teachers and pastors have told her...but she's starting to wonder if there are limits to that belief. She's excited to have a part-time job at camp...but doesn't think it's fair that the girls should pay to wash their own clothes, but that the boys have their clothes washed (also by the girls) for free. And she definitely doesn't think it's right that a skirt that falls just above the knee, and that her parents are presumably okay with, should get her in trouble.
The climax of the book is almost tangential—that is, it's relevant to one of the book's major plotlines, but the biggest difference (Meg starting to question the unquestionables she's grown up with) is subtler. I think this one will punch hardest for those who grew up with conservative religion and have since rethought some things, but it's an excellent book regardless of your background.
Thursday, September 24, 2026
Review: "The Hearing Test" by Eliza Barry Callahan
Published March 2024 via Catapult
★★★
A young woman in New York—not named until the very last page—wakes up to hearing loss that is both abrupt and progressive. It throws an enormous wrench into her personal and professional life, and she drifts through the next year from appointment to appointment and half-baked connection to half-baked connection.
It's an odd book. Very stream-of-consciousness, which will work for you or won't. I found it helpful that I knew going in that it was stream-of-consciousness, which isn't really my jam but at least set my expectations appropriately. It was fairly quick going, though I had to stay quite focused, as the narrator's train of thought switches tracks very often. There are also lots of literary and other references, though I stopped trusting their accuracy when the narrator mentioned a plane crash and said that the sole survivor's mother (who was also on the flight) was never found; as it happens, I've read about that plane crash, and that's not true.
I know nothing about Callahan other than what's in her bio (and even that I only skimmed), but a few things made me wonder whether there are parts of this story, like that last page, that are her own. Maybe literally nothing more than the bare bones of her bio, and in any case it doesn't really matter, but I suppose I can make a bit more sense of it if there's some element of personal experience here.
Recommended mostly (or only) to those who are in for stream-of-consciousness and general malaise.
Wednesday, September 23, 2026
Review: "Beyond Limits" by Shelley Sella
Published June 2025 via Beacon Press
★★★★
Sella was an abortion-care provider for decades, in Kansas and then in New Mexico, though her interest in reproductive health long preceded her specific calling to third-trimester abortion care. In Beyond Limits, she follows six patients—three with fetal indications for abortion, and three with maternal indications—through the paths that led them to her clinic and then through the steps of a third-trimester abortion.
Third-trimester abortions are rare, but the situations that drive women to seek them are not. What really differentiates third-trimester patients from those in the first and second trimesters is the degree of desperation they feel. (loc. 158)
I'll keep this short: This book will not change the minds of people who believe that third-trimester abortion (or abortion in general) is never acceptable; Sella herself nods to this in the book. What it can do, though, is speak to people who simply want to know more, and to those who have ever wondered why someone wouldn't just get an abortion earlier, or go the adoption route, and so on. Sella does discuss these things, directly and in detail, but also:
There are better questions to ask instead of why did she wait so long? And the answers to these questions should inspire compassion rather than judgment. What were the barriers to abortion care the patient faced when confronting an unwanted pregnancy? What were the life circumstances that compelled her to seek an abortion in the third trimester? (loc. 2390)
Wholly recommend to anyone looking to learn more.
Tuesday, September 22, 2026
Review: "Abider" by Melissa Crowe
Published September 2026 via University of Pittsburgh Press
★★★★
But this morning / in the wet grass I saw rotting / windfall pears clustered with bees / who, vibrating, seemed both / ravenous and surprised by their luck. (87*)
Meditative and lush, full of wanting and requited and unrequited yearning, people who fit just right at exactly the wrong time and those who used to fit and no longer do.
I like having to work for poetry (me with my prose-laden, non-poet brain), and work for this collection I did. I read this slowly, a poem here, a few poems there, to allow each page time to percolate. Lots of layers here, lessons learned and unlearned, a balance of learning where the writer belongs and knowing that there are so many possibilities, but they can't all be true at once.
I'm not so wild anymore. / Even untutored, I learned how a woman's / meant to temper her hungers, cross her legs // and shut her mouth. But I taught myself to feel / good. Can't unlearn. (18)
Thanks to the author and publisher for providing a review copy through NetGalley.
*Quotes are from an ARC and may not be final.
Monday, September 21, 2026
Review: "Damned if She Does" by Sarah Stankorb
Published September 2026 via Broadleaf Books
★★★★
In Disobedient Women, Stankorb zeroed in on women who forced a church reckoning. Now, in Damned if She Does, she steps back to look at women who, on the whole, concluded that they couldn't make the change that they wanted to—and so they cut their losses and left.
This is a book about women and the church. But it's also a book about where people start to draw a line within a community to which they once were willing to give their time and money and entrust their children. (loc. 125*)
I've found religion fascinating for a good long time, though what interests me is generally less the specifics of a person or community's beliefs and more how they interact with those beliefs. This sort of thing has been incredibly topical of late, as certain strands of religion get wound ever more tightly around the neck of American politics, and in many ways that's exactly what this book boils down to: What happens when people take a good hard look and ask themselves how much of what they've been taught to believe is about belief and how much of it is about power.
Stankorb handily ties together personal stories with broader looks at history and context—why women, in particular, are leaving churches; why men are staying. (Short answer: power. Slightly longer answer: Power structures within churches are typically set up to reward men, not women, who are involved.) What "leaving" means varies, of course, and what this will look like in the long term (how many will leave, and how many will stay, and what trajectories those groups will take) remains to be seen—but in the context of the US right now, it's pretty on point.
Thanks to the author and publisher for providing a review copy through NetGalley.
*Quotes are from an ARC and may not be final.
Sunday, September 20, 2026
Review: "Someone to Daydream About" by Sydney Langford
Someone to Daydream About by Sydney Langford
Published March 2026 via Farrar, Straus and Giroux
★★★
Natalie just wants to make enough money to save the Deaf Center her family runs—and Felix, pop star extraordinaire, needs an ASL tutor and is willing to spend $$$ to have Natalie on call 24/7. It's a match made in heaven...if they can just get their dang teenage hormones in line.
I have a habit of reading a book description once, putting the book on my TBR, and then completely forgetting what it's about by the time I read the book. Why reread the description when you already know it's something you want to read? By the time I picked this one up, I'd forgotten that deafness (which I suspect was why I shelved it in the first place) was a feature of the book, so I had the unexpected/unplanned experience of reading a bunch of books involving deafness in a row—The Queen's Granddaughter, which has a significant side character with hearing loss; Someone to Daydream About; Mother Tongue, which is a memoir about deafness and deaf culture; and (at the time of writing, one of my current reads) The Hearing Test, which is about a woman who experiences sudden hearing loss.
I like getting the different takes, and I love that Natalie is so passionate about making sure sign is accessible to her community. There's some quiet conflict about money and accessibility, which makes sense—if Mother Tongue reinforced anything, it's that the deaf (and Deaf, for people who prefer the capital letter) community is continually and systematically pushed to the margins.
I did wish that a bit less of this book had been so...awash in teenage hormones. I thought for a while that I would have liked the book better if it had been coded more adult romance (with older characters, etc.) and less YA romance, but I think the author might be quite young, which makes the target audience make a little more sense here. That is...maybe I'm just over the hump of my YA reading days (and so this book is for many people, just not so much for me), but I'd still have preferred a little less teenage dramatics. I enjoyed this a bit more in theory than in practice.
Saturday, September 19, 2026
Review: "Half Light" by Mahesh Rao
Published September 2026 via Pushkin Press
★★★★
2014: Two men meet in a hotel in Darjeeling. Neville, a hotel guest, sees promise of a hookup; Pavan, a hotel employee, sees mostly the likelihood of ruin.
2018: Pavan and Neville meet again, by chance, in Mumbai. The country is changing, and the Supreme Court is on the verge of handing down a decision that will (in effect) determine whether homosexuality is decriminalized.
In a few weeks they would be told by the court whether this time they would be allowed their freedom. The news pieces said it would be the last such opportunity in their lifetimes. It was written down for anyone to read and so Pavan supposed it was true. But it felt like a distant matter, which would have no bearing on his life, whatever was decided. (152*)
This makes for a fascinating read. I like stories about experiences and cultures that are not my own (I always learn something), but more than that, what interests me is the ways in which Neville and Pavan are so deliberately different. Neville isn't wealthy, but his family is comfortably middle-class; he has education and opportunities and, perhaps more than anything, the cosmopolitan and (when he wants it) anonymous background of Mumbai. Pavan, meanwhile, is from a rural place with far fewer options and far more opportunities to fall through quicksand; materially, he has less to lose, but he also has a whole lot less of a safety net than Neville does. Experience has taught Neville that he can push the boundaries with impunity; experience has taught Pavan that the closer he stays to the straight (no pun intended) and narrow, the safer he will be.
For much of the book I wasn't sure whether this was a pairing I was meant to be rooting for. It's not a pairing Pavan wants, necessarily; his risk–reward calculations are different than Neville's. It is a pairing Neville wants, but that's less because of Pavan himself and more because...well, initially because Neville is bored, perhaps, and later because he's not used to being told no. But if Neville doesn't come off terribly well, it's intentional and what makes him and interesting character, and I'd rather have interesting characters than bland perfection. (Though they way my heart leapt into my throat at the climax!) They're from different classes and possibly different castes (my partner, who is from India, asked if Pavan's last name was mentioned, which would tell him something about caste dynamics between the two men; I could not find a last name, so who knows, but in any case let's assume layers upon layers of complicated dynamics), and their actions cannot help but be informed by their individual backgrounds and circumstances. No tidy endings here, but a lot of food for thought.
Recommended as a snapshot of a time and a place and perhaps of human fallibility.
*Quotes are from an ARC and may not be final.
Thanks to the author and publisher for providing a review copy through NetGalley.
Friday, September 18, 2026
Review: "Becoming the Ocean" by Erin Russ
Published September 2026 via Twenty Fourteen Press
★★★★
Upending their lives and taking to the seas was supposed to solidify their marriage. Instead, what became clear was that something had to give.
We had never sailed alone together on the ocean, and never overnight. [...] Neither of us had ever stepped foot onto a sailboat until we owned our own, so we had to learn everything: from how to raise and lower the sails, to how to avoid hitting rocks and capsizing. (loc. 304*)
Despite an irrational dislike of boats (I am an excellent swimmer, but there's just something about the idea of being out beyond the sight of land and knowing that you're too far out to swim to safety if need be), I have a thing for "packed up my life and sailed away" sorts of books. Russ went into the sailing adventure with limited (though, for their purposes, adequate) boating experience and even more limited confidence.
Brian oozed competence—it's what had drawn me to him all those years ago. He had all the qualities I desired and wanted to attain for myself: he was confident, capable, and knew who he was[...]. Initially, I'd hoped some of his confidence might rub off on me. But over the years, I'd ended up hiding behind it at the expense of my own. It was easier to let him take the lead than to risk making a mistake. Now, I couldn't see past him. Everything I knew about myself—from my likes and dislikes, to my sense of who I was—had taken shape within the confines of our relationship. And I only knew how to be the person Brian wanted me to be. (loc. 332)
So it's a sailing story and a relationship story and a self-discovery story. It's evident early on that the status quo of the relationship suits Russ's husband well, but Russ less well; the question becomes what to do with that, and what their relationship will look like when all is said and done. The events of the book took place some number of years ago, which for book purposes is great; it means that Russ has had the time to think it over and process and figure out how the pieces fit together. The emotions are still there but not the same kind of raw that can come across when the story is still new. I'm curious about more of the what came after, but I also understand why it's out of the scope of this book.
Readers looking for more along these lines might like Love with a Chance of Drowning.
*Quotes are from an ARC and may not be final.
Thanks to the author and publisher for providing a review copy through NetGalley.
Thursday, September 17, 2026
Review: "We're All Going to Die Tonight!" by Veronica Bane
Published September 2026 via Delacorte Press
★★★
It's bad enough that the Coastal Canyon debate team didn't do well at their competition—first a flat tire forces them to trek through the woods to their Airbnb, and then there's no Internet. And then comes the blood...and the body.
This made for a fast-paced, quick read. Not quite a locked-room thriller (the teens aren't sure whether there's someone outside or whether one of their own is responsible for the blood and the body and so on), but they're in over their heads pretty much before they even know there's something to worry about.
We get the story from all of the teenagers' perspectives, with each chapter moving from one character to another. All seven of them have their POV moments, though the chapters aren't evenly split (i.e., we're in some characters' heads significantly more than others). I had mixed feelings about so much changing between characters. The voices are distinct, which is helpful, but I still found myself flipping back to check whose perspective I was reading (harder with seven voices than with, e.g., two!). On the other hand, multiple POVs makes it harder to predict who will and won't survive (since only one POV suggests that that character, at least, will). There's some effort to make at least some of the characters possible to root for, which also helps; we have some seriously toxic characters and some people I wouldn't want to be stuck in an elevator with, but we also have characters who are imperfect but doing their best.
The actual mystery ends up being a bit convoluted. I guessed some of the pieces before the end, but not most of them, and while I am fond of mysteries where I don't figure it all out, I do think that any semicompetent investigator would have a field day unpicking the real story. (To say nothing of what they would have made of the scene if the original plan had gone exactly as planned!)
Would be good as a beach read, or for travel—keeps the attention and doesn't require too much thinking.
Thanks to the author and publisher for providing a review copy through NetGalley.
Wednesday, September 16, 2026
Review: "The Secret to Belonging" by Megan E. Freeman
Published September 2026 via Atheneum Books for Young Readers
★★★★
It's the 80s, and our narrator dreams of a fresh start in college—somewhere far away from California, far away from her brother's addiction, far away from the parents who have poured so much of their love and energy and focus into helping (or enabling) her brother that it often feels like there is none left for her. And when they use her college fund to pay for yet another round of rehab, well, there is her college dream gone to dust too. And so she finds herself, on little more than a desperate whim, applying to study abroad and accepting an opening in Norway, a place she can barely locate on a map.
Because I am predictable, I read this for the setting—I always want more fiction, and more YA fiction specifically, that takes place in far-flung but less-travelled places. (I love a good book set in Paris or Rome, sure, but those are also easy to find; give me travel fiction set in Finland or Botswana or Kazakhstan, please.) And when our narrator goes in, she goes all in: Again, it's the 80s (though this is only mentioned in passing, well into the book), and she cannot spend her time in rural Norway on the Internet; she can write letters to friends, yes (and home on occasion), but mostly she learns to study and socialize in Norwegian, and she learns what it is like to live in a family that does not have her family's demons.
the post arrives / a letter from Alison / a postcard from Maura / you feel giddy / you feel rich (loc. 763*)
(Every family has its demons, or at least its skeletons in the closet. But for our narrator, it's still refreshing to think that there is something out there beyond what her own family has been able to offer her.)
It's a complex book with a lot going on. I enjoyed the use of verse here—it made for a fast read without feeling as though it was just short sentences with extra line breaks. The characters, too, are allowed complexity. Perhaps my favorite thing is the quarter the narrator is given, relatively early on in the book, and what happens with the quarter; I don't want to say too much about it, but it's such a small moment that speaks volumes about the narrator and the way she views her family situation.
Really glad I picked this one up. I hope it makes it into lots of high school libraries and encourages kids to think beyond the confines of their towns.
*Quotes are from an ARC and may not be final.
Thanks to the author and publisher for providing a review copy through NetGalley.
Tuesday, September 15, 2026
Review: "Game On" by Zarah Detand
Published September 2026 via Storm Publishing
★★★★
Stellan's job is straightforward, and also not: He engineers opportunities for people to stray...and if they do, someone is in place to get photo proof. He does it because he's good at it, but also because it's one of few opportunities he could get as someone with an underprivileged background and limited education and resources. And that's fine...until he realizes that his current job doesn't involve catching someone cheating, but outing someone who isn't ready to be out.
Detand has yet to disappoint. This is a premise that would make me nervous in the hands of a lot of romance authors—actually, I've read a book with a very similar premise before (minus the queer outing), and it drove me batty, not in a good way, that the "hero" of that book spent most of the book hiding the fact that his job involved making public other people's indiscretions of various shapes and sizes...and once the heroine found out, it of course all still worked out fine, even though he'd been plotting to bring her down (not because there was anything wrong with what she was doing, but because $$$) for most of the book. And that's what interests me so much here: In so many books, Stellan would be hiding his role in things for a huge chunk of the book, at which point Matt would find out and there'd be a huge conflict. Instead, here, Matt knows more or less from the beginning who Stellan is and what role he played in those pictures of Matt...and that's something they have to find a way to work through (or not, as the case may be).
As ever with Detand's books, the dialogue and pace are tight and the characters ones you'd like to spend more time with. I'm going to have to go through her full backlist at some point (so much to read, so little time), but in the meantime I'm thoroughly enjoying reading what comes my way.
Thanks to the author and publisher for providing a review copy through NetGalley.
Monday, September 14, 2026
Review: Short story: "Love Antidote" by Brynne Weaver
Published September 2026 via Amazon Original Stories
Isla has a target, a deadline, and a problem—the problem being the maybe-a-restaurant-critic who has eaten the poisoned dessert meant for her mark.
This makes for a fast, fun short story with just a bit of Mr. and Mrs. Smith coding—I mean, different plot and setup, and maybe (almost certainly) my references are dated, but something about "competing spies" is always going to read Mr. and Mrs. Smith to me. Here, the characters have to figure out who they can trust and just how far that trust should extend...and then whether or not they can get the job done. One way or another.
There's actually a little less poison in here than I expected, but then, it's a short story. Is it weird that I think it would be fun to have a whole set of short stories about assassins, each of whom has a different specialty of ways to kill?
Thanks to the author and publisher for providing a review copy through NetGalley.
Sunday, September 13, 2026
Review (Deutsch): "Die Schwestern vom Buchladen" von Alice Hoffman
Herausgegeben von Amazon Original Stories
Eine Geschichte von Schwestern. Interessant, diese Geschichte auf Deutsch zu lesen—ich habe schon ein paar von Hoffmans kurzen Geschichten über diese Familie gelesen, aber nur auf Englisch.
Hier haben wir zwei Schwestern, die jetzt nicht wirklich...eng...sind. Die jetzt nicht wirklich Freundinnen sind. Sie sind aber immer noch Schwestern, und, na ja, man tut, was man für die Familie tun muss.
Ich mag Schwestergeschichten (und Freundinnengeschichten); Liebesgeschichte, nicht so viel, aber meistens geht es hier um die Geschichte zwischen Isabel und Sophie. (Es gibt eine Romanze, aber sie ist relativ klein.) Insgesamt ein bisschen zu süß für mich, aber das war schnell gelesen.
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.
Saturday, September 12, 2026
Review: "Pining for You" by Stef Ferrari
Published September 2026 via Simon & Schuster Books for Young Readers
★★★
Bennie just wants two things: To get into film school so she can make queer holiday movies, and to get her first kiss. A chance encounter with a cute girl at the Christmas tree farm where Bennie works increases the chance of the latter...if she can just find the girl again. And what's Christmas if not a chance to take a road trip to NYC, attempt her first-ever documentary while she's at it, and get the girl?
I like a cute Christmas book, I like queer romance, and (if we're being honest here) I really like punny titles. And this was good fun—Bennie has a solid friend group, all with well-developed senses of adventure, and they get up to some good-natured minor chaos in NYC. (I also appreciated that this wasn't their first time in the city; they're still functionally tourists, but slightly less wide-eyed than they might be.)
Bennie's "documentary" plot felt a bit thin; she puts down her camera every time someone does or says something that doesn't fit with her view of Christmas magic, even if it's an objectively interesting moment (or if there's something more interesting to say than "look! magic!"). I did like the way her film school arc plays out—not unrealistic—but I was waiting and waiting for a moment when it would get through to her that she was going to have a hard time making her documentary if all she was filming was a montage of context-free happy moments, and that moment really never comes. (And...I know I'm old, but 27 uses of "ya know" is at least 25 uses too many.)
The romance is fine; I see what Bennie likes in Eve, though their romance is really based on vibes and fumes (could turn out great! Just, the entire book is kind of an extended meet-cute, so who knows how things would go once they actually got to spend real time with each other). In the end it's a cute, fast, fun holiday read, albeit probably one that won't stick with me.
Thanks to the author and publisher for providing a review copy through NetGalley.
Friday, September 11, 2026
Review: "The Queen's Granddaughter" by Diane Zahler
Published March 2026 via Roaring Brook Press
★★★
Blanca of Castile loves her life just as it is—but when her grandmother comes calling, Blanca finds that she must embark on her first true adventure, a move to France for a politically advantageous marriage.
Now, I read this almost entirely for the grandmother. Eleanor of Aquitaine is my historical heroine, which has nothing to do with her politics (which were horrific and Isamophobic and often extremely violent—it was not an accident that she went on the Crusades) and everything to do with the fact that she had an astonishing amount of power for a woman in the Middle Ages, and while power itself does not make a person interesting (and a great deal of privilege went into that power), she didn't end up with that kind of power by being wet behind the ears. More on her politics in a moment, but I'm always delighted to find a new take on Eleanor of Aquitaine, and this comes at it from a perspective that I haven't seen before: Eleanor in her later years, as seen by one of her granddaughters.
The late 1100s were of course a very different time. Travel was an Ordeal. In The Queen's Granddaughter, Blanca's mother (Eleanor, Queen of Castile, named for her own mother) says that she hasn't seen her mother (aka Eleanor herself) since she was twelve, presumably not long after she married. And of course this sort of thing is not unheard of now—some children are still pushed into marriage, and some children are still separated from their parents for years or decades because of conflicts or borders. But in the late 1100s this was, you know, normal. (Or at least normal for those for whom marriage was heavily political.) I will note that Zahler says in the history section at the end of the book that Eleanor (the OG, not the queen of Castile) was born in 1122 and married at the age of fifteen, but to the best of my knowledge the year of her birth isn't actually known (at the time she was born, she was "just a girl", and nobody had reason to think that she'd end up being the powerhouse that she was, so a record of her birthday wasn't important...or if there was a record, it's long since been lost), and while she might have been born in 1122 a lot of scholars think she was born in 1124, which would have had her married at thirteen, not fifteen. On one level it doesn't matter, but I'm not a fan of the choice to present one of those years as fact, without any acknowledgement of the unknowns.
But I digress. This isn't Eleanor's story: It's Blanca's. Blanca's best friend and confidante is a girl named Suna, who has a level head to Blanca's rasher nature. Suna is hard of hearing following childhood illness, and her family is Muslim, which in Castile (at least according to this book; I do not know any history of the area) is a nonissue but in Eleanor's France is...more of an issue. (See: Crusades.) I appreciate that the book makes an effort to address this—both Eleanor's prejudices and the difficulty of being in a minority religion, anywhere and anytime. There is some element of glossing-over (I find Eleanor fascinating but, again, wildly problematic; even in her old age I'm not convinced she'd have come around in the way she does here), but one that makes sense in a middle grade book.
Blanca I didn't love. She's twelve in the book, but I didn't know that going in (I know—it's the first line in the description—but I shelved the book months before I read it, and I don't usually go back and read the description in between), and when Blanca was first introduced I genuinely thought she was about seven: listening at doors and stomping her foot when she didn't get her way. It's not that I think that twelve-year-olds, then and now, don't do that, but twelve in the Middle Ages was a different thing. Twelve was old enough to get married, old enough to be doing a lot of household work and preparation for the future. It's not that I think that twelve-year-olds were more mature in the 1100s than they are now, but I think they were maybe expected to be more mature anyway, and that doesn't really jive with stomping around like an elementary-school student having a fit. I suppose she's written for the modern twelve-year-olds, but I didn't love it.
Still, it's a lively adventure story and an interesting look at a different part of Eleanor's life than we usually get. This one was a priority for me from the moment I saw it was coming out, and even if I've aged out of it somewhat I'm glad it's out there for the actual twelve-year-olds to enjoy.
Thursday, September 10, 2026
Review: "She's a Doll" by Barbara Truelove
Published September 2026 via Bindery Books
★★★★★
Lucy's dead—but death isn't going to stop her. She's a little messy and a lot angry and oh, by the way, she's currently possessing a bride doll.
I don't read a ton of horror, but I was so curious about this one that I just couldn't resist. There's something just so delightfully creepy about a haunted doll, and even better that the book is told from the perspective of said haunted doll.
Lucy's refrain throughout the book is simple and heartbreaking:
Why did he do that to me?
Why couldn't I stop him?
What's going to happen now?
This isn't a one-off lament—even without the minor detail of being dead, Lucy's been through some serious trauma, and there aren't really simple answers to any of those questions. She struggles throughout the book: with anger, with physical limitations, with getting used to what she can and cannot do as a possessed doll, with loss after loss. This isn't just the loss of her life; it's the loss of her future, her family, her dog, any romantic aspirations, her freedom as she knows it, the ability to taste food and take a shower and communicate freely.
It's messy. Lucy is messy. The friendship she develops with Nicola, eventually, is messy. The beginning of the book notes that Lucy is a liar, but for most of the book it's not even that she lies; it's that she's so desperate to get vengeance for her murder that she can't see past her own nose. Or, sometimes she can see how hard things are for Nicola too, but rarely can Lucy hold on to that long enough to rein herself in. It makes for such a complicated relationship and such a complicated book, even as Lucy is storming around in a mold-infested body with cracks in her porcelain head and a stick for a makeshift arm. It's dark and it's fabulous.
I said I don't read a ton of horror, and that's true, but honestly, between this and Bethesda maybe it's time to rethink that?
Thanks to the author and publisher for providing a review copy through NetGalley.
Wednesday, September 9, 2026
Review: "Morfran, Dark Lord Reformed" by S.B. West
Published September 2026 via Ace
★★★★
Morfran is tired of beheading his subjects—tired enough that he has ended his marriage to the gleefully violent Ravana, fled his castle, and reinvented himself as Bernard, a goat farmer (and of course expert jam-maker). But when his goat farm is burned down by Ravana's soldiers, and he finds himself saving a group of rebels, he is forcefully adopted by said rebels...and they want Bernard to help bring down Morfran. As in, himself. As in, oops.
This is best read with tongue firmly in cheek and a well-developed sense of absurdité. I actually regret reading this almost as soon as I got a copy, because frankly I could use a light and irreverent read now!
"Is that my sword?" Morfran sat up as high as he could, angrily incredulous to the image. His sword had become something of an icon to his legacy as Dark Lord of Ruthven™. Black and wicked-looking, it was forged with sweat, tears, and red food dye #7, and a blood amber topped off its devilish appearance in the pommel. It was so popular kingdom-wide that his men had taken to having their swords styled in a way just like it, and Morfran was quite pleased to know he was a trendsetter among his villainous peers. (loc. 546*)
The whole book goes a bit like this—there's plot, and there's character development, and there's quite a bit of fighting (and of course a romance along the way), but it's cloaked in satire and silliness. High notes include (but are not limited to) Bronwen's curse and Morfran's constant thwarted attempts at escape...not to mention the goats.
I will note that while I loved the book, I didn't love the way Morfran was eventually asked to atone for his actions. It makes some sense in the context of the story, and certainly it's in line with the tone of the book, but it also felt a little easy (not to mention as though it could cause big other problems in the future). The flip side is that his atonement had to be very big gesture (his entire previous identity was wrapped around killing people), and not much else would likely do the job, so that that as you will.
*Quotes are from an ARC and may not be final.
Thanks to the author and publisher for providing a review copy through NetGalley.
Tuesday, September 8, 2026
Review: "With All My Haunted Heart" by Isabel Sterling
Published September 2026 via Berkley
★★★★
Pippa's magic business is struggling—but when her friend asks her to go against her usual instincts and bring ghosts to his new B&B rather than banishing them, well...it's a challenge. But one she's up for. Especially because her friend's business partner is just about as intriguing as the magic challenge...
This was super cute. I'm reminded a bit of The Faraway Inn in the way magic works here—there are kinks to work out, but it's mostly fairly light. For Pippa, magic is something creative; she has, for various reasons, turned away from the type of magic her family uses, and her days (when she has the clients, anyway) are spent counteracting curses and banishing ghosts. Haunting (instead of un-haunting) a B&B has its own unique set of challenges, starting with finding ghosts who will be a good fit for the place, and I thoroughly enjoyed Pippa's thought processes as she figured out what was possible and what was necessary.
The stakes stay relatively small in the book (big for the people involved, but not always more broadly) but there are some pretty heavy themes. I avoid spoilers, but readers who have had significant loss might want to check the trigger warnings. They're in there for a reason, though, and those themes inform the way the relationship shakes out. I like the relationship quite a lot—both characters taking care to ensure that they help the other with their baggage—though I think I would have liked to learn a bit more about Elle. I'm not sure Pippa really gets the closure that she deserves (her family, man!), and I did wonder whether there might be setup for a future book, or if not setup then at least a door left intentionally open.
I'd love to see a future book that involves the ghosts more; there are some fun characters among them, and it would be super fun to see what hijinks the ghosts get up to when...well, when they're bored, or when there's a problem that can best be solved by people without corporeal bodies...I don't know if this is meant to be a series eventually, but I'd happily read more.
Thanks to the author and publisher for providing a review copy through NetGalley.
Monday, September 7, 2026
Review: "The Camino" by Anya Niewierra
Translated from the Dutch by Eileen Stevens
Published August 2026 via Simon & Schuster
★★★
A year ago, Lotte's husband died violently on the Camino; now, she's walking his same route in his memory, trying to understand what drove him to end it all.
I'll very happily read most things about the Camino, even more than a decade after I walked it myself (on different routes than Lotte), and it's been a delight to see a bit more fiction coming through about the experience. For a while it was mostly memoir and the occasional nonfiction treatise, and I love both of those things, but I also love variety. The Camino is billed as a thriller, although I'm not sure that's entirely accurate. The plot hinges on a complicated backstory, some of what Lotte learns as she goes and some of which we get through letters throughout the book: Her husband, whom she knew to have been a refugee following the Bosnian genocide (she's never known details), was living under a false name, and—given the awful way that he died—Lotte is desperate to know whether his past contributed to his suicide. So that's one part of the mystery, but the other part is in the...accidents...that keep happening around Lotte.
The parts about the Bosnian genocide are complicated and (I overuse this word, but it's accurate) fascinating. They're also hard to read in places; the book doesn't shy away from the horrors of neighbors turning against neighbors, of nationalism turned violent, of not knowing who you can trust or where is safe to be. There's a lot the reader (to say nothing of Lotte) doesn't fully understand until close to the end, including who held what perspectives and roles during the genocide; there's also some really interesting discussion about what all of this means for the present day, and whether it's possible to truly reinvent onself.
Lotte, though, I struggled with. I didn't really need all the attempts on her life (I lost count of how many there were, but suffice it to say that the attempts are pretty well constant); I think the historical mystery was enough mystery for me, and I could have done without the constant murder attempts (none of which Lotte understands as anything other than coincidence until very close to the end). Lotte thinks she's pretty aware of her surroundings, but it takes her quite a long time to put together the pieces, and when she starts deciding who to trust based largely on hormones, I started thinking she was a bit TSTL (too busy telling people she's a chocolatier to focus on possible consequences?). The number of men falling in love or in lust with her also stretched the bounds of my imagination, and by the end of the book I think I was just a little over Lotte.
So a mixed bag. For the Bosnia material alone, this would be four stars, but mixed with other things it ended up somewhat lower for me. Your mileage may vary, especially if you read it in the original Dutch or in a different translation—always hard to know how much that might impact the experience.
Thanks to the author and publisher for providing a review copy through NetGalley.
Sunday, September 6, 2026
Review: "When I Fell from the Sky" by Juliane Koepcke
Translated by Ross Benjamin
Published 2011 via Titletown Publishing
★★★★
In December 1971, Koepcke got on a plane with her mother in Lima to return to their home in the Peruvian rainforest. It was a trip they'd made many times before and one that should have been uneventful—except that the plane crashed, and when Koepcke regained consciousness, she found herself alone among the trees, with a broken collarbone and nobody else in sight. Eventually she heard search planes circling—but she understood almost immediately that the vastness of the forest and the density of the trees made her chance of a rescue next to impossible, and so she set about rescuing herself.
Later I will learn that at that time the entire river was uninhabited. If I had simply lain down somewhere and stayed there, I would never have been found. (98)
I've had this book on my radar for some time (Wikipedia rabbit holes and all that), but I recently read a middle grade take on Koepcke's story, and it seemed absurd to have read someone else's take but not her own. Koepcke shifts back and forth throughout the story, between her time in the rainforest and the time after she made it back to safety. What I most appreciate is that she talks about the long-term process of moving forward as well as the immediate impact. There's just no way for this to not change your life immediately and totally; in addition to being the sole survivor of a terrible accident, Koepcke lost her mother and in some ways emotionally lost her father, who was of course devastated by the loss of his wife. And yet although it turned her life upside down, it doesn't sound like it turned the trajectory of her life upside down, at least not overall.
One thing of note: The world is a terribly cruel place sometimes. I mentioned this when I reviewed Follow the Water, too, but it bears repeating in Koepcke's own words:
Later I was accused in the press of simply leaving selfishly, without worrying about the injured. In other newspapers it was even written that the survivors were wandering around in the forest, screaming and crying, and I ran off on my own. The truth is, I found no survivors. I don't know what I would have done if I had actually found injured passengers and possibly my mother. Probably I would have stayed with them and we would have perished together. (78)
Hopefully this wouldn't happen today, but man, the cruelty of making this sort of thing up about a child (Koepcke was 17), and one who had just survived something horrific and lost her mother no less, just to sell some papers.
At any rate, the book is an interesting and measured read. Koepcke was so terribly unlucky in some ways, but so terribly lucky in others—to have injuries that she could still walk with; to have her mind push her pain away until she was safe; to have grown up learning to navigate the rainforest and thus to be at home and knowledgeable in her environment when so many others would not have known what to do (and, as she notes, when in a different environment she also would not know what to do). Well worth the read.
Saturday, September 5, 2026
Review: Short story: "The Spider Silk Scarf" by Ana Reyes
Published September 2026 via Amazon Original Stories
When Nora steals, it fills something of a gap within her. She steals things that make her happy, and so far she hasn't been caught. But the spider silk scarf is something else entirely—a rarity, yes, and one she knows she has to have, but one that will require breaking into an old woman's home. And, surprising perhaps no one, things do not go to plan.
What interests me most here is what is asked of the reader: Nora's not a bad person, but she is also, objectively, a criminal; some of her thefts are petty, but others are markedly more significant. And yet the story asks you to sympathize with Nora, at least partially, to hope that she doesn't get caught and (maybe) that she'll come away with her booty. And on the whole, it works: I found myself, if not entirely supporting Nora, at least hoping that she wouldn't be caught in too ugly a way; I didn't really want her to be able to steal the scarf, but...well, it's some interesting work.
Again, things do not really go to plan for Nora. I figured out well before she did what might be going on, which in this context of this story makes some sense. Nicely ambiguous ending, too, or if not ambiguous exactly then at least not all tied up with a bow.
<i>Thanks to the author and publisher for providing a review copy through NetGalley.</i>
Friday, September 4, 2026
Review: "Just Between Us" by Adeline Kon
Published February 2026 via Dial Books
★★★
As a skater, Lydia is at the top of her game—her technical prowess is unmatched, and she's confident that she can win any competition she sets her sights on. Her attitude, though...that leaves something to be desired. Enter Elaine, against whom Lydia has competed for years; Elaine does not have quite the consistency or skills that Lydia does, but she still finds joy when she steps onto the rink.
Now, I cannot relate to either of these characters on a skating level: I can just about keep my balance on the ice, and that's where my skill starts and ends. But skating is fun to watch and fun to read about, and the illustrations here do a great job at capturing the athleticism and grace required to be competitive at skating.
The characters I didn't love. Or rather: Elaine's character felt a bit indistinct. She's pretty close to unfailingly kind, a golden girl who gets along with just about everyone and is highly respected in her sport to boot. She's also hiding a thing or two about her personal life. But...not a lot beyond that. Lydia, meanwhile, has isolated herself from just about everyone around her; her response to kindness or rudeness or praise or concern is to snap at the person in question and, if they too are a skater, to remind them that her ranking is higher than theirs (or if they aren't a skater, to tell them that they don't understand the pressures of being on top). Part of Lydia's journey throughout the book is of course to let her walls down a bit and be...a bit kinder to people...but until she gets to that point there's quite a lot of bitterness and ego, and after that point there's quite a bit of teenage angst. Had its moments, but by the end I was ready to move on to something else.
Thursday, September 3, 2026
Review: "Concrete" by Stephen Parnell
Published September 2026 via Bloomsbury Academic
★★★★
Here we meet the first of concrete's famous paradoxes: concrete is both inherently and simultaneously precise and messy, depending on the material's state and on one's viewpoint. (loc. 99*)
Back to my favourite nonfiction series! In Concrete, Parnell dives into...you guessed it...concrete. Parnell is an architect, so concrete is something he knows well, being as it is a major player in contemporary architecture. (My architect husband, when asked, described concrete as "almost like a mythical material" but said that he's against its use now, on climate grounds...but more on that in a moment.)
Much of this book is about architecture, and the types of architecture that the development of concrete has enabled. Brutalism is the obvious style, of course, but Parnell argues that concrete has a great deal more versatility than is often ascribed to it. I highlighted some lines because they interested me, but I highlighted many more because there were so many buildings to look up later (I'm particularly charmed by Ricardo Bofill's reinvention of a disused cement factory into a living and working space).
I was concerned for a while that the book would not touch on the climate impact of concrete, but of course I worried too soon: [Concrete] is responsible for about 8 percent of global CO₂ emissons, more than aviation (2.5 percent) and not far behind agriculture (12 percent). [...] if it were a country, [the cement industry] would be the fifth largest emitter (behind China, the United States, India, and Russia. (loc. 1418) Or, well, perhaps I didn't worry too soon, because I knew concrete wasn't great for the environment, but I didn't know the numbers were so damning. Or consider this:
One recent study estimated that 14 percent of the United States' and 60 percent of China's coastlines are now made of concrete. (loc. 1431)
What a grim image! Concrete has its place...but it's time to consider other, more environmentally friendly options.
Thanks to the author and publisher for providing a review copy through NetGalley.
*Quotes are from an ARC and may not be final.
Wednesday, September 2, 2026
Review: "On Their Frontlines" by Marina Lisa Komiya
Published September 2026 via Takumigraphics
★★★★
Japan in the 1940s: Haru and Yoriko are would-be lovers, kept apart by convention (the 1940s is not an easy time to be a queer woman) and circumstance (their entire lives have been torn apart by war). The war never ended for me, says one of the women, and never have truer words been spoken.
I found this line in the preface really valuable context while reading: As you read this story, you may find yourself vexed by certain elements. This is not a story of strong, independent women, but one where the female characters find themselves having to rely on the kindness of soldiers from the winning side in order to survive. Those who come into this story hoping to find a narrative about female empowerment, where all the women stand on their own two feet, may find themselves especially disappointed. However, the characters I wanted to depict were those unremarkable, vulnerable people who were forced to bear the brunt of the overwhelmingly dismal state that Japan had fallen into in the wake of losing the war – those people who never had the chance to live their lives as they pleased.
As somebody who of course always wants the women in a story to be able to stand on their own two feet, and who also wants stories to make sense for the time and place they're set in, I really appreciated having that commentary right up front. Because it's true: These are not particularly independent women, but they're also not women who have ever had the opportunity for much independence. Neither of them is looking for a prince in shining armor (or a prince at all), but at some point they both realize that they might have to settle for something they don't particularly want in order to get, or stay, out of an even worse situation.
This is volume 1, and I'm curious to see how many more volumes this story might have and whether Haru and Yoriko might eventually cross paths again. I don't need a perfect happy ending for them (see: stories that make sense for the time and place they're set in), but it'll be interesting to see where their stories go.
Thanks to the author and publisher for providing a review copy through NetGalley.
Tuesday, September 1, 2026
Review: "The Pomegranate Is a Grenade" by Maha Hashwi
Published September 2026 via Central Avenue Poetry
★★★★
it's not easy being told you are incomplete because you are uncovered / or being told you are dangerous because you are covered (37*)
A thoughtful collection about faith and discrimination and love, whatever love means. I am fairly specific about the poetry I read—I am no expert (there is a reason I steered clear of the poetry department during my MFA), but I know what I like, and the things that I like include solid themes (though that's not strictly necessary) and crisp imagery, and The Pomegranate Is a Grenade (hello, that title!) has both.
In another language grenada is pomegranate / The pomegranate is a grenade. / The grenade breaks a mother's hands open / Tears two hearts apart from one another / Forces the release of thick red skin (73)
This made for a decent but imperfect fit for me. Thematically, it's very on point; I like reading about religion, and a number of the things Hashwi discusses are unfortunately very topical right now (read: discrimination and just general ignorance). I do love the titular poem, and there's one that compares prayer to (sometimes!) phone calls with distant relatives that made me think quite a bit. The language is often simpler than I prefer, though; I tend to lean towards...lines that read less like sentences, I suppose, and that do more with wordplay.
3.5 stars; still worth the read, but I'm not sure how many of the poems will still be with me in a month or two.
*Quote are from an ARC and may not be final.
Thanks to the author and publisher for providing a review copy through NetGalley.
Review: "Get a Grip" by Alyson Shelton
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Three Ordinary Girls by Tim Brady Published February 2021 via Citadel Press ★★★ For all that I've heard about the strength of the Dutch ...
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The Keeper by Tana French Published March 2026 via Viking ★★★★ Book three—of three—in the Cal Hooper series. Time has passed: Trey is growin...




























