Review: "The Unlikely Heir" by Jax Calder

The Unlikely Heir by Jax Calder
Published August 2023 (self-published)
★★★

There are a lot of people the heir to the British throne isn't supposed to fall in love with—commoners, for example, or Americans, or anti-monarchists. This goes double when the heir was until recently 11th in line, and is an American himself at that, and certainly not expected to get anywhere near inheriting...and triple when he unexpectedly falls for a man...and quadruple when, uh, that man is the prime minister, and royalty isn't supposed to get involved in politics. So that's Callum's life in this book. Shenanigans ensue.

Perhaps against my better judgement, I am very fond of contemporary "suddenly royal" books (shhh, we all have our quirks), and this is no exception. It's interesting in a few different ways—first, though Callum is not living a particularly privileged life at the beginning of the book and doesn't have any expectation of going anywhere but farther down on the line of succession, he's well aware of who his family is. This is not a "who is this upstart" book so much as a "hello, Gran" book. Second, Callum is a grown man by the time he takes his place as first in line for the throne, and the expectations placed on him are...different from the expectations in fiction I've read in which a girl or woman is suddenly high up in the succession line (or about to marry within it). There's no discussion of his figure, or schedules so packed they leave no time for breathing, or days upon days of etiquette lessons. To be fair, I do think this book leans heavily towards the permissive side on that score—I suspect that anyone thrown into that particular shark tank would be far more scrutinized from the Crown's side, not just the public side, than Callum ever is—but there's a point to be made about expectations and attitudes when a man is in a position of (sudden) power vs. when a woman is.

The romance is fun and full of terrible puns, which is...well, pretty much just how I like it. Callum and Oliver very quickly come up against the reality of their situation—they can't be together publicly unless one of them steps down from their respective very highly privileged and influential roles, and chances of maintaining a private relationship are slim to none—which means that the things keeping them apart tend to be external rather than internal, which I'm always fond of because the relationship tends to feel healthier.

I'm not sure Callum needed quite so many things stacked against him, though. He's 1) unexpectedly first in line, 2) American, 3) the sort of romance-novel clumsy that means that he'll spill coffee down someone else's shirt any time there are photographers around but rarely otherwise, 4) in a relationship that could become a legal nightmare, and 5) just now realizing that he might not be as straight as he thought. And that's a lot. 1 and 4 together would be enough for a book's worth of drama. 3 is probably in there as an inoffensive character flaw, but there's a limit to how many "charming but clumsy" hero/ines I can take, and I hit that limit a good decade ago. I'm ready for a new standard inoffensive character flaw! 2 definitely creates drama, and I suppose 5 is in there so that Callum and Oliver can spend time as friends (and without sexual tension) before getting together, but for those I could take them or leave them.

All told, plenty of fun—will likely appeal to fans of Red, White and Royal Blue or American Royals.

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

Review: "Hungry Ghost" by Victoria Ying

Hungry Ghost by Victoria Ying
Published April 2023 via First Second
★★★

Val is smart, popular, and under pressure—mostly from her mother, who cannot interact with Val without telling her that it's better to be thin, that it would be bad if she gained weight, that whatever she's eating is too much, that she should be careful so that she stays thin. Val has found a workaround: she eats, and then she throws up. It doesn't change her mother's comments—but it keeps her thin.

The art here is lovely; not as precise as the cover image, but with soothing, consistent shades of a foamy blue-green, a pale salmon, and a soft, purply grey. I would have liked to see some more from the side characters, though—although Val's best friend, Jordan, and her mother both get a reasonable amount of page time, there's very little from her mother that is not either grief (due to a mid-book plot point—I have rarely related to a character so much as when Val observes that I haven't really been able to think too much about my dad. I've just been trying to hold my mom together (119)) or food-shaming. It seems clear that her mother has some major issues of her own, but because we never see any of that (and very few gentler moments with Val) she's relegated to this role as, well, food-shamer extraordinaire. (I'm not sure if there's supposed to be a cultural aspect here—parent reluctant to give too much praise—but I don't want to assume, because neither that nor the background of the title is discussed.) I'd also have loved to see more of Val's brother, more of why she's interested in Allan, more of her world in general.

That said—I think the the themes of body image and grief will resonate heavily with many readers. Although I'd say that Val clearly has bulimia or purging disorder, not the vaguer 'disordered eating' claimed in the book, she's managing her eating disorder in a way that hasn't torpedoed her life (yet), which is, to most, probably more relatable than the more-common-in-YA-fiction eating disorder that rapidly turns into something imminently life-threatening and requiring hospitalization. Where Val might go from the end of the book is up to the reader's imagination, but hopefully it's to happier places.

Children's books: "An Unexpected Thing", "Is a Worry Worrying You?", and "My Brilliant, Resilient Mind"

An Unexpected Thing by Ashling Lindsay (Frances Lincoln Children's Books)
Is a Worry Worrying You? by Ferida Wolff and Harriet May Savitz, illustrated by Marie LeTourneau (Tanglewood Publishing)
My Brilliant, Resilient Mind by Christina Furnival, illustrated by Katie Dwyer (PESI Publishing)

Diving into the world of children's books! This time, it's all about that old monster—worry.

In An Unexpected Thing, Fred's life is ruled by fear—but his (new?) friend Coco helps him see that sometimes uncertainty can be wonderful.

This makes for a lovely, compassionate look at anxiety in kids. I have a friend (diagnosed with anxiety from a very young age) who might have benefitted from this sort of book as a child, and I expect many adults will also know children for whom this would be helpful—children who can't quite bring themselves to fling themselves at the world with abandon.

The illustrations are rather rougher than the cover image suggests, but the use of color is really nice, especially as the book transitions from Fred's view of the world to Coco's.

In Is a Worry Worrying You?, worry is an uninvited monster that has crashed your picnic, tripped your best friend, and taken up residence under your bed. Do you ever have a worry that won't go away? What is a worry, anyway?

But not to worry! No swords are needed to battle this monster. Instead, the book subtly walks young kids through redirecting their thoughts and finding alternative solutions. The illustrations are dark but playful, and they remind me a bit of Where the Wild Things Are—not only a book for worried kids but one for monster-loving kids!

All in all, an excellent addition to any collection of books aimed at helping kids understand and work with their emotions.

Designed as a mix of playful rhymes and useful tools, My Brilliant, Resilient Mind walks kids (and their parents) through negative feelings—and some ways to cope with them and hopefully turn them around.

The rhymes vary somewhat in scheme, usually ABCB or AABB. They're a bit slant in places, but I'm guessing that kids won't notice, and the rhyming would be a good way to help some of the strategies (variations on reframing and positive thinking, mostly) stick in one's brain. The art is simple but effective, something like a mix of colored pencil and watercolor. My favorite thing, though, is a simple little choice: the twins are a boy and a girl, and it's the girl who loves soccer and the boy who loves art. It's inconsequential to the story, but it's so nice to see that tiny choice to buck stereotype and subtly reinforce that interests aren't gendered.

Not sure this is one kids are likely to return to over and over again for the story, but it's a useful addition to a bag of tricks for teaching kids about managing emotions.

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

Review: "The Ministry of Thin" by Emma Woolf

The Ministry of Thin by Emma Woolf
First published 2013
★★

In 2012, Woolf published An Apple a Day, a memoir (drawn from a Times column that she wrote) about trying to recover from anorexia. In 2013, she followed up with The Ministry of Thin, in which she takes an extremely unscientific look at the pressure that girls and women are under to look and sometimes act a certain way.

And...I can only think that Woolf was still deep in her disorder when she wrote this. She speaks of anorexia as a thing of her past, but she also says that I literally don't go near butter (loc. 267); wonders whether, despite her anorexia, she was ever actually mentally ill (loc. 2597); describes women who don't have 'fuller figures' as 'the perfect ones' (loc. 3167); argues repeatedly that size is purely down to behaviour rather than, e.g., genetics; and tries unconvincingly to argue that she doesn't have a problem with fat bodies:

This [fear] is the way I feel about fat in food. However, fat as body shape seems quite different. It interests me. I wonder what it would be like to become very large. (loc. 606)

but then continues with fun things like this:

I know it's easier than it sounds. I know that, despite having come close to death, I would still choose battling anorexia over battling obesity. No one wants to be fat. Everyone wants to be thinner. (loc. 760)

The book isn't entirely about body size—Woolf also talks about, for example, the pressure to be made up a certain way (she tells us that the fact that she sometimes leaves the house without mascara is down to 'my own laziness' (loc. 1643))—but as far as I can tell most of this book is her attempt to delude herself into thinking that she's perfectly healthy and normal now, and any residual terror of butter or disdain for fat people is just natural because she's a woman in today's (or 2013's) society. I do not recommend reading this if you have ever had an eating disorder. I do not recommend reading this if you have a bigger body. I do not recommend reading this in general.

Woolf was still only very recently into some semblance of recovery when she wrote this. It's been ten years, and I really hope that things have continued to improve for her. But...somewhere along the way, I wish an editor had looked at this and said, 'Look, interesting concept, but let's table this for a few years until it feels less raw and you can think about actual science and research instead of your continued tithing at the Church of Thin.'

Children's books: "Explore Under the Earth" and "Explore the Rainforest" by Carly Madden

Explore Under the Earth by Carly Madden (Happy Yak)
Explore the Rainforest by Carly Madden (Happy Yak)

Diving into the world of picture books!

Explore Under the Earth takes Evie and her dog Juno down through the layers of—surprise—the earth, learning a bit about each layer as they go.

I love the varying sizes of the pages, which allow for something tactile and colorful. The order seems backwards to me (surely the pages should get smaller as Evie and Juno go down deeper into the earth?), though it would take a total and probably difficult rewrite to start at the earth's core and work outwards, so I can see why the author opted to do otherwise. It's easy to see how this concept would translate well to other shaped board books—a triangular mountain book, perhaps? Another partial circle for one about rainbows? The possibilities go on and on.

Young readers can continue Evie's adventures in Explore the Rainforest, which takes Evie and her dog Juno up, up through the layers of the rainforest, each page a bit larger as they climb through the trees.

This makes for a colorful and instructive read, with lots of layers in the illustrations and plenty of little details to attract young readers. The format is a lot of fun, combining whimsy and practicality. (The font is quite small, though—adults, have your reading glasses at hand!) Either of these would make a fun gift for a young child who is curious about the world.

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

Short story: Review: "A Welcome Reunion" by Lucinda Berry

A Welcome Reunion by Lucinda Berry
Published August 2023 via Amazon Original Stories

A chilling look at what comes after: when Hannah knew her before, Janie was a violently abused child—someone in need of help, support, love. But Janie's disturbances went far deeper than that, and there was no recovering from what she did.

She's eighteen now. An adult. Released from juvenile detention, her record locked, going by a new name—and prepared to set the world on fire. And Hannah isn't prepared to see it burn.

This story is set sometime after Berry's The Perfect Child. It's not necessary to read that first—I have not, and I didn't realize until I'd finished the story that it's a follow-up to a full-length book. I suspect (having skimmed some reviews for the book) that this will go a ways to satisfy readers who hoped for more of an ending to the book, but the creepiness of the violence in this story tells me that I will have to save consideration of the book for a day when I'm in the mood to be unable to sleep at night.

All told, a satisfyingly creepy shot of writing that begs the question—how far would you go to keep your world in one piece, and to keep someone else from destroying it?

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

Review: "Trail of the Lost" by Andrea Lankford

Trail of the Lost" by Andrea Lankford
Published August 2023 via Hachette
★★★★

2015: A young man goes into the wilderness and disappears.
2016: A young man goes into the wilderness and disappears.
2017: A young man goes into the wilderness and disappears.

In Trail of the Lost, Lankford chronicles three disappearances on the Pacific Crest Trail—Chris Sylvia, Kris Fowler, and David O'Sullivan—and the efforts made to find them. A park-ranger-turned-nurse, she got involved in one of the unofficial searches almost by accident, but once she was in, she couldn't turn away.

I read Lankford's Ranger Confidential in 2016, and it left me with the sense that she had loved her work but was deeply burnt out by the time she left. This proved to be a better fit of a book for me, partly because I adore both thru-hiking books and search-and-rescue memoir, but also because Lankford is uniquely qualified to write it. Lankford more than had the qualifications to take part in the search efforts, and she proves here that she also has the research and writing skills to weave a very complicated story. This is three stories in one, mixed with numerous others—because inevitably, over the course of years of searching and researching, Lankford and the scrappy team of searchers she was involved with stumbled across, or were asked to investigate, other missing-persons cases. No spoilers, but what the investigations turned up varied widely.

Most missing-person cases in the wild are resolved quickly, but that was not to be the case for any of these three. It makes for a twisty and turny ride, with leads including a cult, multiple psychics, questionable science (read: the kind of science that the book is here to critique, not to promote), drone footage, solo accidents, accidents involving other people, and much more.

One thing that might turn some readers off: Lankford has a tendency of mentioning mental illness in the context of crime ("...a thirty-two year-old man with a history of mental illness..." (loc. 3148*); "...mentally ill fugitive..." (loc. 3638); "...attacked by a mentally deranged man" (loc. 4539); etc.). It's never a main point of the story, but then, neither is any of these individuals' mental health relevant to whatever parts of the story Lankford tells. Again, not a big enough part of the story for me to draw conclusions, but enough to mention...and to remind anyone who is still reading that people with mental illness are far more likely to be victims of violent crimes than to commit them themselves.

Overall, a fast and gripping read if you're drawn to wild spaces, mysteries, and stories taking place in the intersection of those things. May be of interest to readers of Kathryn Miles' Trailed and Jon Billman's The Cold Vanish.

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

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

Review: "Skating on Mars" by Caroline Huntoon

Skating on Mars by Caroline Huntoon
Published May 2023 via Feiwel & Friends
★★★★

Super sweet middle grade read about ice skating, gender identity, navigating friendships and middle school cruelty, and grief. I picked this up for the skating aspect but stayed for the grief processing, which feels on point—shifting understandings of identities when someone important is not there to learn about it is something I've thought a lot about in the past year (though in a different context than Mars has), and it's handled in a nicely understated manner here.

Some of the gender identity stuff feels a bit more heavy handed (there are lessons here), but I think that may be reflective of the fact that not only am I not the target audience (I'm almost three times Mars's age), but Mars's generation is learning about gender identity at a much younger age than my generation did, and the lessons are correspondingly age-appropriate and sometimes simplified. (I'm not sure when I first met someone who wasn't cis—or rather, was openly not cis—but I'm guessing college, and that wasn't because I was particularly sheltered but rather because at the time we hadn't really gotten past discussing the LGB part of things. Cue a whole bunch of learning on the fly!)

It's fascinating and cool how much things have changed in a few years—fifteen years ago I was struggling to find lesbian books, let alone lesbian books that didn't involve homophobic violence, in the LGBTQ selection; ten years ago I could find trans books in the YA section at the library; now I can find books that further subvert the gender binary in the middle grade crop of books. It'll be interesting to see what comes next.

Review: "To Walk It Is to See It" by Kathy Elkind

To Walk It Is to See It by Kathy Elkind
Published August 2023 via She Writes Press
★★★

There is a saying: An adventure is not worth telling if there are no dragons. (loc. 127)

I say that I'm a semi-reformed nomad, and it's books like these that keep the 'semi' part of that in play. Surely I could lace up my boots, lock up my apartment, and go out into the mountains for a few weeks...or months?

When Elkind and her husband Jim wanted an adventure, they did that: they picked the GR5, a route that winds from the Netherlands all the way down to the south of France. As the kilometers slipped by, the route got tougher—but so did they.

This is the second book I've read in as many months about the Grande Randonnée network (the first was The Twenty, about the GR20), and my goodness it fuels the wanderlust. Elkind and her husband had pretty quiet dragons on the trail, all things considered—occasional wrenches thrown in the works, but it would be stranger if there were none in 98 days of walking! Her dragons tend to come more from within, when looking back at years past. I'm particularly intrigued by Elkind's writing about her dyslexia, for which she did not receive adequate support as a child—not learning to read until grade seven—and the fact that she ended up teaching elementary school, with a focus on reading. We teach what we need to learn, she says (loc. 775), and I wonder how much else that might apply to.

I read piles and piles of books about the Camino before I walked that, and another stack or two after—perhaps these books about the GR trails herald a new adventure? One can dream.

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

Review: "Nobody Needs to Know" by Pidgeon Pagonis

Nobody Needs to Know by Pidgeon Pagonis
Published August 2023 via Little A
★★★★

My chromosomes chose intersex. My doctors chose girl. And I was left to endure the consequences. (loc. 1337*)

Pagonis was told a lot of things about their body as a child—some of which turned out to be true. Others turned out to be warped truths, and still others turned out to be blatant lies. And then there were the things that Pagonis wasn't told.

In Nobody Needs to Know, Pagonis chronicles a journey of surgeries and imposed otherness punctuated by revelations: as a kid just starting school, as a preteen, as a first-year in college. It was that last revelation, which led Pagonis to seek out their medical records, that set them on a route to activism—in particular, a drive to change the system that made Pagonis's body not their own for so long.

I'd learned early on, in the days after the surgery while lying in that hospital bed and during all the checkups that followed, that my body wasn't my own. It didn't belong to me. It belonged to everyone else. It belonged to the people who could "fix" it, to the people who wanted to study it, to the people who would use it. (loc. 945)

I've read enough about what it means to be intersex to understand one very simple thing: the best cosmetic intervention is no cosmetic intervention. There are too many stories of infants having parts cut off or sewn up so that they look more "standard," irrespective of what that might mean for identity or quality of life, and ignoring the fact that these infants will eventually grow up to be children and then adults with opinions and feelings about their own bodies. This is just one of those stories, and as far as I know such surgeries are still the norm rather than the exception. But Pagonis highlights some other devastating experiences as well—such as being a kid in hospital expected to strip down and bare all for any set of doctors who wanted to come by and take a look, without being told the truth about why they were in hospital and without an understanding that they could say no.

Two things that I would have really liked to see here: first, though there are some ties to trans activism, I'd love to know where the people fighting against intersex rights (such rights including the right to not have nonconsensual cosmetic surgery) stand on questions of trans rights. Pagonis touches on this a little, in terms of hospital policy, but I suspect that there's a different kind of enormous disconnect in how conservative politicians view the matter.

And second, research. I do not need the hard numbers to be convinced, but that doesn't mean I don't want to see the hard numbers anyway. Late in the book, when Pagonis is talking to doctors who perform these surgeries, the doctors' argument (as Pagonis tells it) boils down to "It makes the parents happy if their kids' genitals look normal!" I desperately wanted a retort of "Here's what the peer-reviewed research says about what those kids say about their own damn genitals when they grow up"—but I don't know what sorts of studies have and haven't been done, so barring that, I'd have liked some discussion about surgeries continuing despite the long-term impacts not having been studied in sufficient detail.

If you don't pick up the book, it's still worth checking out Pagonis's Wikipedia page and reading more about their experience and advocacy work.

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

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