thetypedwriter

[thetypedwriter]

All the Light We Cannot See Book Review

All the Light We Cannot See Book Review by Anthony Doerr

This probably wasn’t the lightest novel to choose to read on my honeymoon, but at least it was enjoyable. Lightest both in terms of girth and weight (my suitcase could barely fit anything else), but also in terms of subject matter. 

All the Light We Cannot See is a novel set during the rise and fall of WW2. It mainly follows two main characters, Werner, an incredibly smart German orphan who finds himself at one of Germany’s elite school where they train him in the Nazi ideology, and Marie-Laure, a blind French girl who finds her world thrust upside down with the German invasion of Paris (her home) and the subsequent events that follow. 

Heavy, right?

I don't usually love war books, not because they’re not interesting or important, but because they sit heavily on my heart. All the Light We Cannot See was not an exception. 

In addition to Werner and Marie-Laure, we see other characters and their motivations, Marie-Laure’s father, her uncle, Werner’s sister, a man on the hunt for a valuable jewel called the Sea of Flames.

All these characters intertwine with Werner and Marie-Laure, weaving an inextricable web where even the smallest choices create a large, rippling effect for others. 

All the Light We Cannot See also experiments deliberately with time. I tried to explain the plot to my now husband on our trip and found that it was difficult to relay.

The novel starts with a chapter centering around Marie-Laure hiding in her home in Saint-Malo as bombs and fire erupt around her. You then transition to Werner and his fellow German soldiers who are shooting off said bombs.

Then, in the very next chapter, Marie-Laure is five years old, Werner is a child in a rundown orphanage and the war is ten years off. 

Instead of taking the whole novel to reach back up to the climatic moment of the opening chapter, Doerr continues to alternate between these two timelines, effectively making a future present and a past present.

These two presents eventually meet two-thirds of the way through the novel. From there, the book becomes chronological until the end. 

I’ve never read a book with an intricate timeline that worked as well as this one did. While it was hard to elucidate upon, it was never confusing to read about.

Doerr did an excellent job of maintaining clarity while also crafting invisible threads that pulled tighter and tighter and tighter until it formed a knot towards the end. 

Other than the pacing and the characters, the book was beautifully written. Very introspective and thought-provoking without being pretentious or verbose.

It contained a multitude of historical details without making me feel like I was reading a textbook (an issue I have with a lot of historical fiction). 

I could get into the nitty-gritty of the plot, but you probably already have a decent idea of what it contains and how it ends. Chronicling the lives of Werner and Marie-Laure during this intense time of human history was a fascinating read, especially seeing the juxtaposition between them.

Doerr’s decision to include a main character who was blind was also an interesting choice that gave this book a fresh perspective that was much needed amongst the saturation of books similar in nature to All the Light We Cannot See. 

Including the characters, timeline, treading lightly of burdensome subject matter, and the prose itself, this novel was one that I ingested from the beginning and stayed riveted throughout the entirety of the story. 

Recommendation: As a whole, I enjoyed All the Light We Cannot See, but definitely believe that there is a time and place to read it. Some of the details are horrific to imagine, let alone realize that they occurred. Tread with caution, but also don’t miss out on a great book with a lot to offer and teach if you are up for it. 

Score: 7/10

[thetypedwriter]

When Women Were Dragons Book Review

*Spoilers for the Novel ahead*

When Women Were Dragons Book Review by Kelly Barnhill 

This book unfortunately broke my beautiful golden streak of good books. 

When Women Were Dragons by Kelly Barnhill is a surprisingly boring book for a story where women turn into dragons. Not metaphorically, but literally turn into dragons and still it was a bore. 

The whole premise is an allegory for female rage and generational trauma starting in 1950’s America. Barnhill could have done so many interesting things with this idea, but instead she swaps out civil rights for dragons rights and that’s…about it believe it or not. 

If Barnhill wanted to focus on female rage and trauma passed down from our families she could have done it in a much clearer, more subtle way than having women turn into dragons and yet act exactly like anthropomorphized people. 

The story follows a main character, Alex Green, from her childhood until her deathbed. However, the pacing of this book is utterly atrocious.

More than half of the book features Alex as a child where every adult tells her not to ask questions, to keep her head down, to be obedient, and to never, ever, discuss dragons…yet, that’s the premise of the book?

So as a reader, you’re waiting for most of the novel for some kind of explanation of why women are turning into dragons and yet we are forced to sit through chapter after chapter where our child protagonist has zero idea and actively avoids thinking about it.

Instead, we are forced to read the slog of Alex’s childhood with her negligent father, strict and cold mother, and rambunctious sister/cousin/child. 

Yup, you read that right. 

Finally, some time passes and Alex is a teenager now raising her sister/cousin/child named Beatrice after the passing of her mother and the abandonment of her father and aunt.

These chapters are depressing and uninteresting as Alex repetitively complains about how hard her life is and drones on about what she needs to do while proclaiming her love of math. 

Then, abruptly, the aunt from her childhood, and Batrice’s real mother, returns in her dragoned form along with thousands of other dragons who had just been dilly dallying for the last fifteen years or so exploring the earth. 

Alex wants nothing to do with this amphibian aunt who left her to raise her child as a teenager while she was off flying around with her dragon lovers, but eventually Aunt Marla wears Alex down.

So much so that the next few chapters are Alex living in a commune type of house with Marla and her three female dragon lovers and a halfway transitioning Beatrice. Alex attends the University of Wisconsin as she comes to terms with this new society and her shifting family dynamics. 

Then, I kid you not, Barnhill spends the rest of the novel simply summarizing what is happening in society in an incredibly mundane display of show-not-tell. We zip through years as Barnhill goes on and on and on about dragons rights, marches, education, and the impact dragons have on American society. 

Not only is it monotonous, but it’s ridiculous. Dragons can stop and sniff out bombs, are large enough to lift heavy buildings and construction parts, but also don aprons, bake bread, wear purses, and reapply lipstick?

The discrepancy between the dragon's description and their behavior is downright implausible and takes you out of the story continuously as a reader. 

You are told that they are fierce beautiful creatures who have the strength and survival skills to explore the cosmos and yet they also return just to work in community parks and attend schools?

None of it makes any sense. Barnhill’s swap with historical civil rights with dragon rights is also an odd choice that left a sour taste in my mouth. 

The only explanations of dragoning and the phenomenon it entails are interspersed chapters in the form of journal entries, medical reports, and court documents.

These entries are beyond dull, repeat the same banal information, and provide nothing of note or interest for the reader. I began to skip through them towards the end because they were so irritating and wordy. 

Speaking of the end, it was a shitshow. 

Alex finds her literal only friend from childhood, Sonja, reconnects and falls in love with her, only for Sonja to change into a dragon and fuck off, leaving Alex behind, who didn’t feel like joining Sonja as a dragon.

Then, skip decades and Beatrice is winning a Nobel Peace Prize and Alex is suddenly a retired old woman lamenting about the people in her life who have died, including some wife named Camilla (?!), and that’s…it. 

That’s the whole book. 

I’m actually speechless just writing this because it’s dawning on me how poorly written and executed this book is.

From start to finish, this book took an interesting premise and completely ruined it with a stupid and irritating main character, abominable pacing, so much show-not-tell that I felt like I was attending a school lecture, and nonsensical writing choices that made this book difficult to immerse myself in and enjoy in any capacity. 

It wasn’t the worst book I’ve ever read, but thinking about all the pieces that make up When Women Were Dragons I’ve come to the unfortunate conclusion that the book is bad and not worth the time or money I spent on it.

I didn’t even get into the gender dynamics of the book (every man being the worst piece of shit person possible with zero redeeming qualities) but I’m too tired and frustrated to do it now. Avoid this book at all costs. 

Recommendation: This book is not worth anyone’s time. If you love dragons, look literally anywhere else—Eragon, Fourth Wing, A Song of Fire and Ice—I don’t care. Just don’t turn to Kelly Barnhill. 

Score: 3/10

[thetypedwriter]

The Wedding People Book Review

The Wedding People Alison Espach Book Review

This book was so fun. In both a good way and a train-wreck kind of way. 

The Wedding People by Alison Espach was a book I couldn’t tear myself away from. It’s not the best book I’ve ever read, but it was indulgently entertaining. 

The whole book revolves around Phoebe Stone, a thirty-nine-year old recently divorced professor who has hit rock bottom.

She decides to go to Rhode Island and stay at the Cornwall Inn, a decadent hotel that she had always dreamt about, but her ex-husband and her never traveled to. 

She leaves everything abruptly behind without any notice, plans to sip the finest champagne on her luxurious balcony, eat expensive room service food, and…end her own life. 

That is—until she meets the bride and her entourage of wedding people. 

Phoebe becomes embroiled in the wedding, so much so that ending her own life becomes a thing of the past and she decides instead to live fully, speak her mind, and go after what she wants for the very first time in her whole life. 

This book hit me at just the right time. As someone who is also getting married, it punched me in all the feels. Phoebe was inspiring—her mentality of going after what she desired and being true to herself for the first time really struck me.

It’s not easy to do and Phoebe showcases that after almost 40 years of life. 

This was a rare case where this book wasn’t the best written and the characters weren’t utterly fascinating, but it affected me all the same and I devoured it in two days. It was also incredibly funny.

Like my other most recent read, Unlikely Animals by Annie Hartnett, it wasn’t a book I anticipated being funny due to its serious subject matter, but the juxtaposition of the wedding people compared to the seriousness of Phoebe's mental state was the perfect concoction for humor, inspiration, and gratitude. 

Recommendation: This book is a riot. If you are getting married like me, or attending a wedding, or just want a charming, yet comical time this book is an absolute treat. 

Score: 8/10

[thetypedwriter]

Unlikely Animals Book Review

Unlikely Animals Book Review by Annie Hartnett

This book was so magically cozy. 

Set in a small New Hampshire town where everyone knows everyone (relatable) and ghosts narrate throughout the whole story (less relatable), this book was the pure piece of comfort that I needed in my life. 

A murmuring (gathering) of Starlings is the main focus of Unlikely Animals. Emma, the prodigal daughter, finally returns to the East Coast after years of being in California and avoiding her family.

Clive Starling, Emma’s dad, is dying of an unnamed disease that makes him constantly forget what he is doing and allows him to see ghosts, specifically the ghost of Ernest Harold Baynes, history’s real life Dr. Doolittle. 

Emma’s mother is struggling with her husband's degeneration as well as still coming to terms with the affair he had a few years ago. In the meantime, she’s trying to look after her other child, Emma’s brother who is also a recovering addict, working at the university, and running the historical society. 

While the book sounds simple—and to some degree, it is—it is also profound and beautiful. The Starling family, cracked and fissured, still obviously love each other despite their differences and conflicts of interest.

I didn’t expect much from this book, a book club pick from my high school, but found myself loving it.

While the beginning was slow, the novel stole my heart as the pages continued, bringing me further and further into the lives of this town and the people inhabiting it. 

I adored the small-town feel, how every time Emma left her house she would run into this neighbor or that neighbor, something I’ve experienced a lot living near where I grew up.

I also cherished all the characters. While none of them were perfect—far from it—they all felt distinctly human. They all struggled, loved, and hoped for various things. Nothing about their lives was fantastical, but that’s what it made it so heart-warming to read about. 

Last, the book was hilarious, so much funnier than I expected from a novel where the dad is dying, the brother is an addict, and the mother is absent. Every other scene had me laughing out loud at the absurdity of the situations that the characters got themselves in. 

Recommendation: If you’re looking for a cozy, technically magical realism story, then this book has something for everyone. Cute animals? Check. A loving, albeit dysfunctional family? Check. A Stars-Hollow-esque setting? Check and Check. Read Unlikely Animals and with a nice cup of tea and laugh your worries away. 

Score: 8/10

[thetypedwriter]

Lessons in Chemistry Book Review

Lessons in Chemistry by Bonnie Garmus Book Review

*Spoiler Warning for the entire novel

I’ve been on such a pleasant book binge lately!

Lessons in Chemistry by Bonnie Garmus is the latest book I’ve read in an attempt to explore more adult literature. I’ve really found myself enjoying realistic and upmarket fiction lately and Lessons in Chemistry is certainly no exception. 

The novel revolves around chemist Elizabeth Zott, unusual for a woman in early 1960’s America. It starts with a prologue-esque chapter detailing Elizabeth’s life as a university student and why her Master’s in chemistry got derailed.

From there, Elizabeth meets the eccentric and brilliant Calvin Evans—rowing fan and scientist extraordinaire. 

Calvin is quick to find that Elizabeth has both beauty and brains. They fall deeply in love thereafter. Their romance is short, but passionate, ending in tragedy with Elizabeth in mourning and pregnant after Calvin’s unexpected passing. 

The remainder of the book details Elizabeth blossoming as a mother, unexpectedly becoming the host of a TV cooking show with a methodical spin, and her slow and agonizing climb to better herself and her education in a world that wants to keep women firmly in the kitchen and out of the laboratory. 

This book as a whole I really enjoyed. The characters were interesting and I got invested in Elizabeth’s story—her fight against sexism and gender inequality was as heartbreaking as it was inspiring, especially in the field of science.

One of the best characters was Elizabeth’s dog, Six-Thirty, a notable character in his own right that added to the story more than I ever could have envisioned. 

I really only have three flaws with this story. One, Elizabeth spends the rest of the novel lamenting on how much she loved Calvin and how beautiful and profound their relationship was. Such an important part of the story should have been longer. I felt like I just got to know Elizabeth and Calvin together when Calvin suddenly dies, leaving Elizabeth alone. 

I understand that the story revolves around Elizabeth and Elizabeth only, not on her romance, but I still felt like their chapters together were too short for me to feel any kind of sadness for Elizabeth.

When Calvin died I was surprised, but not upset—a crucial difference. It made me less sympathetic towards Elizabeth because I never had the time to grow attached to them as a couple, something that I could have done with a little more time. 

Additionally, our last scene with Calvin shows him intentionally going behind Elizabeth’s back to help her out at work—something she explicitly asks him not to do over and over again.

While a kind gesture, it was misplaced and then bam! He dies. Calvin and Elizabeth needed more pages together to create the emotional attachment Garmus was trying to achieve. 

The pacing of Lessons in Chemistry in general was off. The beginning with Calvin and Elizabeth’s love story was too short, the middle was way way too…well, middling and long with not much changing, and then the ending was so quick it was like a blow to the face.

The middle needed to be cut down in order to give the beginning relationship and the ending epiphanies room to breathe and exist. 

Second, this book will make you believe that men are the most vile living things on the planet. They are all satirically evil and predatory. Almost every man Elizabeth encounters is a jealous piece-of-crap with the fragilest of egos and a high percentage of being a sexual abuser. 

While I don’t think men as a whole were very forgiving, kind, or understanding in 1950's-1960's America, the sheer amount of despicable men was almost unbelievable to me. 

There are…two men in the whole story that are sort of decent? And even then, not really, as one is a lying priest and the other is a cowardly fool who watches terrible things unfold around him and does nothing to stop it.

I get that Bonnie Garmus was trying to make a point, but the point was too hamfisted and brought me out of the story on several occasions. 

Third, Elizabeth is very progressive for this time (desires working in a STEM field, doesn’t want children, never wants to get married, etc) in an implausible sense.

Elizabeth Zott has the mindset of a woman in 2025, not 1955. Not that any woman couldn’t have thought those things, but Elizabeth feels so strongly about these modern values and refuses to accept any kind of help, even though one of her main characteristics is being logical.

You would think a highly logical woman would accept help when needed in order to improve her own life versus hanging onto her own ego. 

Despite my complaints, I still really liked Lessons in Chemistry. The flaws were there, but the story was enjoyable, fun, and galvanizing in a way that made reading it a positive experience. My favorite part (other than the POV’s from Six-Thirty) was Elizabeth treating her cooking show like a scientific procedure.

This was such a cool and fascinating way to subvert the idea that women only belong in the kitchen that I found both clever and entertaining. I wish the show existed in real life!

Recommendation: Not the most amazing novel you will ever read, but having a main female character’s focus be on herself and her love of science over the love of a man was a breath of fresh air that I won’t be forgetting any time soon. If you like clever women, cleverer plot points, and even cleverer dogs, then you will fall in love with this story like I did. 

Score: 7/10

[thetypedwriter]

Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine Book Review

Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine Book Review by Gail Honeyman 

This book was more than completely fine—it was totally great!

Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine by Gail Honeyman is not a new book, but it’s the first time it’s come across my radar. Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine was published in 2017 and never once did I hear about it. 

However, I’ve been on a big slice-of-life kick lately and when I was looking up awards on Goodreads, this book came up as a notable selection for fiction. I jumped on it—a decision I wholeheartedly stand by. 

This book’s plot is nothing special. A thirty-year-old woman named Eleanor Oliphant says she is completely fine before realizing that she is missing out on essential life moments and significant experiences.

This epiphany comes after meeting and befriending the new IT guy at work, Raymond, and it dawns on her that while she is alive, she isn’t living. Not truly. 

The book then progresses to show Eleanor’s attempt to choose happiness and improve her life. Not over night, not in a day, but slowly and carefully choosing hope and prosperity instead of expected complacency. 

I really loved the characters of this book. No one was super archetypal, stereotypical, or even amazing, really, but that is the beauty of it.

They are just people.

People trying to live their lives, excel at work, make friends, fall in love, and deal with the rollercoaster that is life. 

It was so refreshing to read about that I fell in love with Raymond’s bad attire, Eleanor’s wit, and all the side characters like Eleanor’s coworkers and Sammy’s family. 

While this book deals with heavy themes like loss and childhood trauma, never at any point was the trauma the focus. Never did the book wallow in angst and melancholy. Instead this book is the epitome of hope and looking to the future. 

It’s the idea that meeting someone—a friend, a family member, even a cat—can change your life. It shows that people are influenced by others for the better, that people need people in their life. 

It’s not enough just to go to work, go home, drink vodka, and repeat. 

Eleanor realizes this. 

It’s so simple, but so beautiful and realistic. 

I’ve thought about that myself: am I making the most of my life? Am I truly living or am I coasting by?

These are the questions that Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine covers in an eminently human way. Eleanor’s inexperience with life makes her a delightful narrator.

Not that she’s the kindest, if anything she can be candidly rude, but that makes it all worthwhile. Even Eleanor, who thinks she doesn’t need other people and sees herself as above them, realizes that she does and that being with others is the key to living a good life. 

Recommendation:

People need people,

To walk to

To talk to

To cry and rely on,

People will always need people.

To love and to miss

To hug and to kiss,

It’s useful to have other people.

To whom to moan

If you’re all alone,

It’s so hard to share

When no one is there.

There’s not much to do

When there’s no one but you.

People will always need people.

To please

To tease

To put you at ease,

People will always need people.

To make life appealing

And give life some meaning,

It’s useful to have other people.

It you need a change

To whom will you turn.

If you need a lesson

From whom will you learn.

If you need to play

You’ll know why I say

People will always need people.

As girlfriends

As boyfriends

From Bombay

To Ostend,

People will always need people-

To have friendly fights with

And share tasty bites with,

It’s useful to have other people.

People live in families

Gangs, posses and packs,

Its seems we need company

Before we relax,

So stop making enemies

And let’s face the facts,

People will always need people,

Yes

People will always need people.

–Benjamin Zephaniah

Score: 8/10

[thetypedwriter]

Don't Let the Forest In Book Review

Don’t Let the Forest In Book Review by C.G. Drews

I thought I was going to like this book so much. Everything was up my alley: angsty boys pining for each other, a brooding environment at a dark academia-esque location, fairytales and dreams, beautiful writing, the list goes on and on. 

But…I didn’t. 

I seem to be the only one. All the reviews I’ve looked at online have people raving over Andrew and Thomas, their relationship, and the plot, all of which I never felt like I could connect with. 

Don’t Let the Forest In is the second book by C.G. Drews, an author that I have a strange past with. I never read Drews’ first novel, The Boy Who Steals Houses, but I used to love following Drews on instagram.

I was first drawn to them because of their beautiful color-coded library pictures, but then I started reading their book reviews and found myself agreeing with them most of the time. 

This never happens. Reading and rating books is so subjective, but my alignment with C.G. Drews was almost uncanny.

However, I’ve lost track of them the last few years only to see them name stamped on a gorgeous book over at Barnes and Noble and topping the New York Times Bestseller list. 

Don’t Let the Forest In is that book. 

Because I respected C.G. Drews so much I thought I would love their novel. We agreed on so many things and yet…Don’t Let the Forest In didn’t do it for me. 

The book revolves around two boys: Andrew and Thomas. Andrew is a melancholy, anxiety-riddled teenager who can only write dark stories and obsess over Thomas. Thomas is a volatile, aggressive artist who is suspected of killing his parents.

The whole book deals with the two boys going into the forest next to their school to kill monsters at night, monsters of their own creation. They must stop these creatures before they come after the boys themselves and innocents at the school. 

I’ll say the first and only thing I liked about this book: the writing. C.G. Drews is a surprisingly talented writer. Their writing was fluid and aching, albeit dark and brooding, but still overall evocative in nature and compelling to read. 

Now I’ll get into everything else. 

First, the characters. Thomas and Andrew were the people who mattered in this story and yet, I couldn’t even remember which one was Thomas and which one was Andrew.

Maybe it’s because I read The Foxhole Court, which includes a short aggressive character also named Andrew. So I kept confusing Drews’ short spitfire (Thomas) with Sakavic’s (Andrew).

Or maybe Thomas and Andrew felt so indistinct to me that I had a hard time distinguishing their names, even if they had different personalities. 

Personalities which mainly included being obsessed with each other, playing the martyr card, and being starving artist sorts. The whole book shows the boys pining for each other, but being too scared to say anything, and getting badly injured in intervals from disturbing beasts in the forest that they concocted themselves. 

Why didn’t they just leave the school, you ask? Especially since they didn’t give a shit about anyone else and were tortured daily by stereotypically cruel bullies and callous teachers?

No idea.

There was no good reason they didn’t and yet…they stay night after night to “protect” the school by going into the forest to kill monsters and get maimed in the process. 

The overall environment of this book was also very…dark. I didn’t realize until later that it is touted as a psychological thriller and horror, which is very apt.

There is also a ton of body horror elements that really disturbed me. I get that this is a personal problem on my end, but I found this book more horrific than the last true adult horror book I read called Home Before Dark by Riley Sager, which was way more cartoonish and entertaining than C.G. Drews’ young adult novel. 

But, if you like horror you may end up really enjoying this book despite its plot holes. I personally couldn’t jive with the forest growing inside of Andrew and all the squeamish detail that entailed. 

Lastly, and most importantly, there is one thing I hate more than anything. My top pet peeve that books sometimes do: ambiguous endings. 

If I am going to read your 300+ page book, I want answers. I want a solid ending that wraps up all the pieces. I don’t want to have to guess or wonder or decide on my own.

And that’s exactly what C.G. Drews did. Did Andrew imagine everything? Is he dead? Is Thomas dead? Are they sharing a heart? I have no freaking clue because she wanted me to be confused…

Sigh. 

Mission accomplished. 

Putting all these pieces together, Don’t Let the Forest In was a book I actively avoided reading. I’m glad that others seem to enjoy it and maybe a younger me would have had my curiosity piqued by two obsessive boys, but I’ve had that particular niche filled by much better books—The Foxhole Court, as previously mentioned, and I saw others compare it to The Wicker King by K. Ancrum and These Violent Delights by Micah Nemerever, both books I’ve read and liked more (although I had my issues with both of them as well). 

Recommendation: You’re better off reading the books mentioned above than Don’t Let the Forest In. Save yourself the teen angst and read about (and fall in love with) the OG Andrew instead. 

Score: 4/10

[thetypedwriter]

Remarkably Bright Creatures Book Review

Remarkably Bright Creatures Book Review by Shelby Van Pelt

I’ve known forever that I love character-focused stories. 

However, I’ve also realized after reading this book that in order for me to love these kinds of stories, the characters have to be good. 

Unfortunately, Remarkably Bright Creatures, a debut novel from Shelby Van Pelt, doesn’t fulfill this requirement. 

The story has a simple premise and switches off between the two main characters, a young man with a chip on his shoulder by the title of Cameron and an old Swedish woman named Tova.

Other characters have random, interspersed chapters, but the only other character or…animal of note that dominates a few POV’s is a giant Pacific octopus named Marcellus McSquiddles. 

Marcellus is by far the most interesting character in the book and the novel would have been ten times better overall if more—and longer—chapters were told by Marcellus.

Incredibly intelligent and observant, Marcellus figures out the plot of the novel halfway through the book, frustratingly earlier than Tova or Cameron, who are dim-witted beyond belief. 

The plot revolves around Tova’s son, Erik, who disappeared thirty years prior when he

was 18-years-old. Tova never got over this disappearance and it only punctuated her loneliness following the death of her beloved husband.

Since losing both of her family members, Tova lives by herself and is afflicted with loneliness, but stubbornly refuses the emotional comfort of the friends around her, instead opting to live in a retirement home far away that would remove her from Sowell Bay, her home of many years. 

Cameron’s whole character can be boiled down to this: annoying. Because his mother is a drug addict who left him as a child, Cameron’s whole life has been in shambles.

He can’t keep a job, a girlfriend, or save up any money. Instead of blaming himself and his choices, he condemns everyone around him and refuses to take any accountability for his actions or where they have led him. 

Cameron finds himself in Sowell Bay looking for his father with only a cockamie idea of who the man might be and some borrowed money from his aunt in his pocket.

Solely due to the kindness of the people in the community does Cameron manage to not live on the streets and go hungry, but he still decides to bitch about his circumstances to everyone and anyone. 

The “mystery” surrounding Tova’s son Erik only gets deeper with Cameron’s appearance, whose mother knew Erik back in high school and may have had to do something with Erik's “drowning”. 

The plot of this book is paltry and not that interesting. It’s laughably easy to put together as a reader that Cameron, and by extension his mother, are tied to Erik and Tova, and yet Cameron and Tova themselves can’t put two and two together until the end of the novel for...reasons.

And yet a captive octopus has no issues solving the so-called “riddle”.

The majority of the book instead focuses on Tova’s realization that she is growing old and has no one to support her. Meanwhile, Cameron slowly, slowly, mind-numbingly slowly recognizes that he is in control of his own life and the actions he takes. 

Honestly, if the whole book was told from Marcellus’ POV this would be a much better book. 

I love slice-of-life stories that focus on characters and their emotional depths. However, Cameron and Tova did not deliver whatsoever on this front.

Cameron’s inability to recognize his own faults wasn’t fun or entertaining to read about and Tova’s staunch coldness made it hard to sympathize and connect with her. 

The pacing of the book was at a molasses speed with next to nothing happening for most chapters other than infinitesimal character growth that I didn’t find interesting to begin with. 

I had such high hopes for this book after hearing from several people that it was an enjoyable read. So much so that I recommended it for my fiance’s Thanksgiving book club. It was even nominated on Goodreads for 2022’s Nominee for Readers' Favorite Fiction and Nominee for Readers' Favorite Debut Novel.

I…don’t understand how such a nothingburger novel could earn such high favor and acclaim. And as I’ve said over and over again, I adore character-driven stories. I prefer them, in fact. 

They just need to have good characters. 

Recommendation: Read a summary on Goodreads of the “mystery” of Tova’s son and then only read Marcellus’ chapters. They’re the only chapters worth consuming.

Score: 4/10

[thetypedwriter]

Home Before Dark Book Review

Home Before Dark Book Review by Riley Sager

Happy Halloween! 

Just in time for the spookiest of months, I read Home Before Dark by Riley Sager as a part of my school’s monthly book club. As I discussed in my last book review, I have been on a journey of sorts. A book club journey. 

As a part of this odyssey, I’ve been reading books far outside my normal fare, novels that I wouldn’t pick up for myself because it falls outside of the YA category or simply because they don’t seem interesting to me. 

Home Before Dark follows this trajectory. Lauded as a psychological thriller that takes inspiration from the book The Amityville Horror, Sager’s novel would have been the last thing I would ever pick up. 

I am not a fan of horror. 

In fact, I actively dislike horror in almost every case, even benign ones. The only slightly horror-ish novel I’ve even consumed in the past few years is Stephen Chbosky’s Imaginary Friend, which ended up being more surrealist and bizarre than anything else. 

However, Home Before Dark is a true horror novel, one that I surprisingly enjoyed. 

This book is about a haunted house, a missing 16-year-old girl who disappeared 25 years ago, and the main character, Maggie, is determined to find answers to questions that have plagued her whole life.

Namely: is Baneberry Hall truly haunted?

The beginning starts off slow. I didn’t want to read the book and it certainly didn’t help me along. The chapters switch between adult Maggie Holt returning to the home that has destroyed her life—Baneberry Hall—and 25 years earlier when she was a child at Baneberry Hall with her parents. 

From the beginning you are told that Baneberry Hall is haunted, that Maggie and her family fled the house under mysterious circumstances never to return, and that Maggie’s father, Ewan, wrote about their “true” experiences in the haunted house and turned it into a bestselling novel, a novel that has shaped Maggie’s whole life for the worst.

The chapter switches, at first confusing and annoying, become fun later on as they parallel each other 25 years apart—30-year-old Maggie living in Baneberry Hall and discovering the truth and Ewan buying Baneberry Hall, moving in, and finding his family’s life turned upside down because of the spooky misgivings that occur. 

 The beginning, while slow and meandering, turns into a middle that delves into the mystery of Baneberry hall, Maggie’s involvement, the suspicious townspeople, and her parents’ secrets, which then in turn pivots and becomes an action-packed ending with snake-like twists and turns. 

Maggie and Ewan, while not the most interesting or likable of characters, get the job done as double protagonists. They’re not that deep, nor are they that smart or complex, but this novel isn’t about character progression and growth.

It’s about a haunted house filled with snakes, ghosts, and an abominable past filled with death that has cursed a girl for most of her life (among other girls).

The other characters are also simply pawns to be moved around by this book’s plot. However, that’s fine. I felt similarly to the characters in Agatha Christie’s Murder on the Orient Express. They were interesting, sure, but not deep and layered. But that wasn’t the point of Christie’s mystery novel and it’s also not the point of Sager’s. 

The purpose of Sager’s novel is to thrill and entertain. While I never found myself scared, which is saying something since I’m the most easily scared person on the planet, I did find myself enthralled by the plot’s “thrill” and the “spooky” moments that present themselves. 

This book was really fun. More fun than I anticipated, especially considering the dull origin. The ending’s action and double twist solidified this book as a juicy story that made me gasp out loud and giggle in simultaneous delight and ludicrousness.

I’m sure most horror fans would disagree, but as a horror novice, this book is pleasurable and downright fun in its originality and uniqueness compared to other books I’ve consumed the past few years. 

Recommendation: If you’re a wimp like me, but craving something bewitching for the Halloween season, then you will love Home Before Dark. It has things that go bump in the night and contain moments that are silly and mysterious, but not terrifying.

It’s a perfect Halloween read that won’t leave you plagued with nightmares for weeks to come. 

Score: 7/10

[thetypedwriter]

Klara and the Sun Book Review

Klara and the Sun by Kazuo Ishiguro

I have been on such a journey lately. A journey of rediscovery. 

For a while now, I have felt…bored with YA. Don’t get me wrong, there are some absolute gems. Dark Rise by C.S. Pacat and Divine Rivals by Rebecca Ross come to mind.

However, a lot of the other YA books I’ve read in the last year or two have felt incredibly mundane, cliched, and tropey. They all feel the same.  

So lately, I have been getting out of my comfort zone. I’ve been reading less YA and instead as many books as possible in as many myriad genres as possible.

It has been enlightening.

I feel invigorated with reading again, falling in love with words and pages like I did so long ago that set me on this path of creating book reviews and becoming an English teacher and writing my own book. 

I haven’t written reviews for them all, but I’ve read Brave New World, The Outsiders, Murder on the Orient Express, The Women, and plan on reading an adult horror novel called Home Before Dark by Riley Sager and Remarkably Bright Creatures by Shelby Van Pelt soon. 

All this to say, I’ve rekindled my love for stories and characters, all thanks to the variety of novels I’ve recently been consuming. Klara and the Sun by Kazuo Ishiguro is no exception. 

Klara and the Sun is an adult novel that is told from the perspective of Klara, an artificial friend (AF). Klara is essentially a selfless robot who yearns to be put in a home and given a ward.

She watches the outside from her shop window, pining for the sun (she is a solar powered robot) and dreaming of the day she can go outside the shop on her own and be given a purpose. 

Her day comes. Klara is taken home by Josie, a thirteen-year-old girl, and her mother. What unfolds is Klara’s experience in this new place with Josie and her mother, the people in their life, the despairing world around them, and a nefarious secret with ambiguous motivations. 

I would get into the plot more, but that really is the basics. It would take an unbelievable amount of work to explain the complexities of Klara and this new life she’s found herself in and it’s better for people to read the book and see the mystery unravel for themselves.

Ishiguro as an author is really intriguing because he gives you nothing but bread crumbs. In a direct comparison to YA, Klara and the Sun gives you teensy morsels about society and the world, but never enough for you to piece things together until well into more than halfway through the book.

I only found this frustrating near the 200 page mark when I was desperate for answers. Up until then, though, I found it refreshing that an author wasn’t shoving lengthy exposition down my throat. 

I will say that the ending of Klara and the Sun was anticlimactic for me. What you expect

to happen just…happens. There’s no twist, no shock, no great revelations. When you finally realize Klara’s true purpose it comes across as a bit…problematic, but it’s not that wild of an idea once you think about it more fully and realize all the foreshadowing leading up to it. 

My favorite part of Klara and the Sun was Klara herself. I love the trope of robots becoming more human-like or learning about humanity (the movie, The Wild Robot, is a great example of this that I saw and loved recently). So I’m a bit biased when it comes to this trope in general. 

Ishiguro’s writing wasn’t beautiful exactly, but very dialogue driven which I found interesting. I liked that he didn’t push his world building in my face every opportunity he got, but I would have appreciated a little more explanation about the society and world he created.

There are still facts and details that are hazy after finishing the book that I would have expected to be more fleshed out. It would have been a better book with more of everything expanded upon. 

Recommendation: If you love robots becoming human as much as I do, you will enjoy Klara and the Sun. While it wasn’t the deepest read, nor one that I thought stuck the landing at the end, I still enjoyed the process.

I loved Klara’s POV, the ethics that arise from her place in the world, and the questions that popped up in my mind as a result from this story. As always, any book that makes me think is a book worth reading. 

Score: 7/10

[thetypedwriter]

The Women Book Review

The Women by Kristin Hannah Book Review

I have been tasked with yet another book club book. 

I am in the era of book clubs apparently (and I’m not complaining). 

The Women by Kristin Hannah is another example of a book I would never normally read. It’s not YA and it’s about war. In general, I’m not the biggest fan of fighting or bloodshot which usually discounts any war books.

However, since I had to read this for my school book club and it's from the perspective of a female nurse during the Vietnam War instead of a soldier, I was cautiously optimistic. 

Turns out, I really enjoyed it. 

For people like me, people who don’t like war or fighting or bloodshed, this book is not for you. That being said, I thought The Women offered a fascinating take on a historic event but told from the view of a group largely marginalized and forgotten: women. 

Namely, the novel follows Frances “Frankie” McGrath and her story of becoming a hero by serving as a nurse in the Vietnam War following the death of her older brother, Finley.

Wanting to make her parents’ proud and get her photo tacked onto her fathers’ hero wall, Frankie enlists as a nurse without any training or experience. 

Naive and doe-eyed from her coddled life on Coronado Island, California, Frankie finds out very quickly that life in a war is worlds away from the country clubs and sparkling oceans from home. 

With soldiers and civilians alike coming in with chest wounds, missing limbs, and burned bodies, Frankie quickly casts away the shell of her former self and adapts to life in ‘Nam. She grows and learns and leans into her one passion: nursing. 

The first half of the book is about Frankie’s years in Vietnam and the horrendous things that she witnesses and deals with on a daily basis. The details are…atrocious.

As a book about war, this was expected, but still harrowing. To read about the appalling wounds and injuries that American soldiers and Vietnam villagers suffered and endured are heart-wrenching beyond belief. 

It was almost as much of a relief to me as a reader as it was to Frankie when she finishes her second tour in Vietnam and goes home, a concept that seemed as far away and as foreign as Vietnam once seemed to a sheltered girl in the 1960’s. 

The whole second half of the book is almost as terrible as the first, but in a less gruesome sense. Frankie’s life since coming back is less than ideal…

Being assaulted at home with anti-war sentiments, people calling her a baby killer, her parents telling their Coronado community that she’s been away in Florence, people unwilling or hesitant to talk about the war, and on and on it goes. 

Frankie, who expected people to be proud of her, drowns instead in her own shame and suffering, sending her down a dark spiral accompanied by addiction, drunk driving, and the betrayal of her own morals, values, and beliefs. 

All in all, The Women is exactly what you would expect of a war novel. It includes grisly injuries beyond most people’s imaginations, the struggle to reintegrate into one’s life back home, the pull of addiction in order to numb the pain and nightmares, and the eventual finding of one’s self in the aftermath of so much pain and suffering. 

The one special caveat of this book, is, as its namesake suggests, about the women. Over and over again in the novel a variety of people say, “There were no women in Vietnam.”

Lies. There were women. Important, significant, brave women who made a difference. 

This book is their legacy, one that will never be forgotten. 

Recommendation: War books are not my cup of tea. The fighting, the sadness, the agony—it’s usually too gut-wrenching for me to consume. However, The Women is such an important tale detailing the heroic women of the Vietnam War, their contributions, and their lives.

This book taught me so much, as well as deeply saddened me to know that such a horrific event took place in human history that cost countless precious lives. 

This is not a book I picked up willingly and I probably won’t read another war book for some time (or ever), but I appreciated all that I learned. It showed me how fleeting life is and made me grateful for the life I have now. 

Any book that can remind me of my own mortality (and make me cry) is pretty powerful in my opinion. 

Score: 7/10

[thetypedwriter]

Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow Book Review

Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow Book Review by Gabrielle Zevin

This book fell into my lap. I usually don’t put much stock into other people’s opinions on books, but I had sooooo many people tell me to read this book—people I admire and look up to. So, of course, when my fiance procured a copy for himself, I decided to join him. 

Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow is a book by author Gabrielle Zevin about a boy and a girl who make games together. That’s it, that’s the whole plot. It always amazes me when authors can take such a simple narrative and turn it into a beautifully crafted tale. 

The book itself is exquisitely written, with elegant prose, tasteful pacing, enchanting characters, and a rich timeline that starts with the characters’ childhoods and follows them well into their late thirties. 

The two characters are the creative, yet self-deprecating Samson Masur and the lovely and brilliant Sadie Green. The two meet as children in the hospital where Sam is recovering from a horrific car accident and bond over playing video games.

Little does Sadie know that Sam hasn’t spoken to a single person since the accident. Not one word—until Sadie. 

Following these two characters well into their adulthood makes you feel like you really know them. They’re complicated and messy, traumatized and hopeful. They have likes, dislikes, annoyances, flaws, struggles, and dreams. 

The gift of Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow is getting to know these two characters as well as you could know a real life person—an almost unimaginable task for a writer to do.

Because the plot is so simple (albeit still fascinating to see the progress and evolution of video games from the 1990’s to the 21st century) Zevin can focus wholeheartedly on Sam and Sadie’s characters, a literary choice that pays off in droves.

The way Sam and Sadie’s relationship changes over time makes the reader reminisce on their own friendships, especially childhood ones. As a book, it highlights the beauty and nuances of having someone you can call a best friend–emotions and ties that can mean more than romance.

The way Zevin portrays their relationship is nothing less than art. That isn’t to say that Sadie and Sam don’t fight or have their issues because oh boy, do they ever. But that’s life. Life is messy and unpredictable and as human beings we are vulnerable to insecurities and mistakes. 

Having double POV’s isn’t always my favorite, but in this case it was crucial. Seeing both sides allowed you, as a reader, to see how perception plays a role in us all.

A situation from Sadie’s POV points Sam as uncompassionate and unfeeling. From Sam’s POV you gain understanding and empathy—you piece together why he is doing what he’s doing, altering your omniscient perspective on the whole situation. 

It was splendidly crafted. 

As I’ve stated many many times before, I am a character driven reader. Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow is a character driven narrative all the way through.

More than magic battles or surprising plot twists, I found myself moved by the daily lives of two individuals trying their best. I was encouraged by their success and heartbroken by their losses. I felt like Sam and Sadie were my friends and I loved their story as if it were my own. 

If I were to have any criticism of this book it would be that all the problems could have been avoided if the characters just communicated with each other.

This isn’t a new issue. I have this problem with TV shows, other books, movies, etc. If people properly communicated, you wouldn’t have the challenges that arise (you also wouldn’t have a plot). 

While in some cases I can understand why Sadie and Sam would keep things from each other, for two people who spend an inordinate amount of time together you would think that they would…you know, talk more about their thoughts and feelings. 

I do think that Zevin took some liberties with how often Sadie and Sam kept each other in the dark while still proclaiming the other person to be the only soul on the planet who “really knows them” but it’s a forgivable error and one easily forgiven. 

Recommendation: If you like character driven stories as much as me (and video games to boot), then Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow will be your next addicting read. Like a video game, you’ll start it up, hit the next level, and be consumed until you reach the boss fight at the end. 

Score: 8/10

[thetypedwriter]

The Grandest Game Book Review

The Grandest Game Book Review by Jennifer Lynn Barnes

I feel like I’m writing about Jennifer Lynn Barnes constantly. 

Thankfully, this is not a case of diminishing returns. 

In fact, this might be Jennifer Lynn Barnes’ best novel yet, which is astounding to me. 

The Grandest Game is now the…fifth book in the Inheritance Games series which is insane, but it’s also the first installment in a spinoff series.

So related but not a direct sequel, although you would be lacking in a significant amount of understanding if you had not read the first four books of the Inheritance Games.

At this point, Jennifer Lynn Barnes is becoming the new Cassandra Clare.

But back to The Grandest Game, one of the key differences is instead of focusing on Avery and the Hawthorne brothers, this novel focuses on other players that have either been invited to play or won themselves a nomination. 

The Grandest Game itself is not that noteworthy, but the plot essentially boils down to this: Avery has set up a competition game where the prize money is $26 million.

Most of the game includes the players getting involuntarily put into teams and trying to solve a series of riddles and puzzles while attempting escape-room antics. 

Avery and the Hawthrone brothers are in the novel, but they’re in the periphery and largely unimportant other than the history they have with the players and the fact that they have masterminded the game. 

However, I can not emphasize enough how much better the book is by not focusing on them. Avery was never much more than a Mary-Sue from the get go and the Hawthorne brothers were all largely one-dimensional cliches.

The side characters who take center stage in this novel are a huge improvement, personality and interest wise. 

Rohan we know from the last book, The Brother Hawthorne, and his POV is fascinating. I’ve always had a soft spot for characters who are selfish and conniving, two characteristics Rohan has in droves. 

However, he also has a good motivation for playing the Grandest Game—getting money to take over the Devil’s Mercy, a secret club that he’s been a part of since he was a child. His penchant for winning always makes his POV fun to read. 

His relationship with Savannah, while predictable, was also really charming. I love relationships that are fierce and fiery, have cat-and-mouse banter, and are between two very stubborn people who don’t want to admit defeat. Every chapter with them working as a team was titillating. 

The POV I enjoyed the most was Gigi’s. Her fun, bubbly personality and bright way of connecting with people and seeing the world was fresh, fun, and authentic.

Her interactions with Knox and Brady were hilarious, but also strangely deep and intriguing, as they were both new characters with a sordid and complicated past with each other. 

Gigi’s intellect shone through while others constantly underestimated her, a plot point that never got old. Gigi trying to piece together what happened with Knox and Brady, while at the same time learning she’s bugged and trying to untangle the larger mystery of who’s on the island, was the most riveting part of the story for me. 

The last POV was for a character named Lyra Kane. Essentially, she’s Avery 2.0. I disliked her POV the most, especially as her motivation to win–saving her childhood home—while nice, was boring.

She also had the hackneyed story arc of being attracted to Grayson Hawthorne while incessantly telling herself to stay away from him (without success). 

The most interesting part of this POV was Grayson’s and Lyra’s interaction with their third teammate, Odette, an older woman who was once involved with Tobias Hawthorne.

I liked Odette’s backstory and the diversity of having an older character, but she was too cryptic throughout the whole novel and then decided to give up her spot at the end, a choice that riddled me with frustration and made her character dip in the favorite department. 

That being said, these three POV’s were still a huge improvement from the banality of Avery’s mind and the vapid love triangle she found herself in of the previous books. 

Instead, we have two interesting perspectives (plus Lyra) to carry this new spinoff series forward, a journey I am wholeheartedly ready to embark on.

Plus, all the riddles are a lot of fun to try and piece together as a reader. It may not be the most complicated of plots, but it’s entertaining and the characters propel it forward with their intersecting relationships and personal motivations. 

Recommendation: The best Jennifer Lynn Barnes novel yet. Read it and try to solve as many of the puzzles as you can (I got two of them!).

Score: 8/10

[thetypedwriter]

Children of Anguish and Anarchy Book Review

Children of Anguish and Anarchy Book Review by Tomi Adeyemi

This book was so horrible. 

No one is more disappointed than me to say that. 

I’ve gone to two of Tomi Adeyemi’s book signings, including a recent one for Children of Anguish and Anarchy.

Tomi Adeyemi herself is absolutely wonderful. She’s so intelligent, hilarious, addictively charming, and can work a room like no other. The book signing was fantastic. Too bad the book couldn’t hold up to the event itself. 

Children of Anguish and Anarchy follows as the third and last installment of the Legacy of Orisha trilogy, but doesn’t read like that at all.

Other than having the same four main characters of Tzain, Zelie, Amari, and Inan, nothing about the book concludes any issue, plot story, or character development from the previous two novels. 

A completely new villain is introduced, someone we haven't heard about as a reader in the last two books whatsoever, and obliterates any of the conflict and tension that Adeyemi worked so hard to build in her previous stories. 

Gone is the tension and literally hundreds of years of in-fighting between the Maji and the monarchy, gone is the civil war and its repercussions on Orisha, gone is even one of the main characters from the last novel, Roen, who was a significant love interest for Zelie and who has been completely disappeared in this new book all together (like, what???). 

It was incredibly lazy writing to wipe away everything the first two books created in order to “unite” against this new enemy. The sentiment is nice, but it’s not the finale we wanted or needed. 

I desired answers to Amari and Zelie’s broken friendship, closure to the Inan and Roen love triangle, a verdict on how Orisha would rebuild and who would rule. 

We get none of that. 

Instead Zelie and the others spend half their time in the book on a ship with very strong slavery parallels, and the other half in the introduced land of New Gaia.

While I thought the descriptions of New Gaia were beautiful (albeit very similar to Avatar), I was dissatisfied because the whole series at this point has been focused on Orisha and Orisha’s problems, not New Gaia and not the Skulls. 

While the plot was bad and aggrieving, the characters were even worse. 

None of the characters were interesting. They were carbon copies of each other in which all they talked about was avenging their fallen Orishan people, killing the Skulls, and protecting loved ones.

Rinse and repeat. It was boring as hell to delve into four different characters’ minds only to find that they all sounded exactly the same. 

I often had to go back to the start of the chapter to tell whose internal thoughts I was reading because they were so interchangeable and self-righteous and dull.  It is never a good sign when you can’t automatically tell who’s POV you’re reading based on their internal dialogue and tone. 

Lastly, the pacing of the book was atrocious. Everything happened so goddamn fast that I felt like I never had the chance to properly digest or internalize anything.

Oh they’re on a ship? Moving on from that. Zelie got some sort of medallion shoved into her chest?? Moving on. Wait, Maji and Titans and the monarchy are all working together after two full books of them killing each other??? Five pages and it’s done with. 

It was outrageous and insulting. 

The pacing made everything feel shallow, unimportant, and unnecessary. More than most of the plot were action scenes, while difficult to write and interesting in their own right, in this book it was so repetitive that characters killing other characters 90% of the time became egregiously tedious. 

And speaking of the action, I also found it incredibly violent and graphic for a YA book. As someone who is not a fan of gore and blood, this book had so many explicit details for no reason other than being gratuitous.

For example, at one point Zelie shoves a chicken bone through someone’s cheek. I found it repulsive and it was also incessant. 

I know some people can handle brutality, but I can’t, and found it a huge turn off and made me dislike the book so much more, especially as this was a majority of the book to boot. 

Disappointment can’t even contain my full feelings for this story. For such a wonderful trilogy to succumb to such a terrible end is a tragedy. I wish the best for Tomi Adeyemi and success for her future, but I will not read another book by her again. 

Score: 2/10

Recommendation: Read Children of Blood and Bone, a magical story that will inspire and entertain you. Read Children of Virtue and Vengeance if you really need something else, but even this book I wouldn’t recommend picking up.

Do not, I repeat, do not read Children of Anguish and Anarchy. It will leave you feeling dismayed and disheartened beyond redemption.

Bonus: Here's me, my fiance, and Tomi Adeyemi at her book signing!

[thetypedwriter]

What the River Knows Book Review

What the River Knows Book Review by Isabel Ibañez

Mystery, murder, romance—this book has it all. What the River Knows by Isabel Ibañez is a fun and thrilling young adult novel set in the late 1800’s in Egypt.

The main character, Inez Olivera, finds herself making the long trek from Argentina to Egypt in order to solve the mystery of her parents and try to figure out along the way why they always left her for six months every year to go visit their beloved Egypt. 

I want to say more about the plot, but it’s better if you go in knowing as little as possible (although the book jacket gives away way, way too much—avoid reading it if you can).

If a headstrong Latina main character who won’t take no for an answer, multiple mysteries that intersect and keep you turning the pages, a witty and actually good enemies-to-lovers romance, and a beautiful setting filled with magic and history alike sound alluring to you, then you will adore this book as much as I did. 

The characters in this book were all multi-faceted and interesting. Inez herself, while not perfect, was a pretty infallible main character, especially considering that even though she’s a sheltered young lady living in a Bridgerton-Esque society, she’s incredibly determined, intelligent, witty, brave, and not worried whatsoever about societal etiquette.

I’m not saying that women weren’t capable of having these qualities in 1884, but Inez acts like a modern, independent woman living in 2024 instead of a person from her own time period. This annoyed me from time to time, but overall, it’s a small criticism to accept in the face of such a fun book. 

The other characters all added good depth to the story, including the British love interest, Whitford Hayes, and Inez’s remote and closed off uncle, Tio Ricardo.

Instead of welcoming Inez to Egypt with open arms and charming smiles, they are cold and distant, constantly calling her a headache and telling her to go back home. 

Inez, unwilling to leave until she’s solved the mystery of her parents, slowly carves out a place for herself amongst her uncle’s archaeology team, proving herself as a talented artist and as a capable adult.

As the book continues, more characters are introduced but I found the relationship between Inez and Whit and Inez and her Uncle the stars of the show. 

Inez’s feelings around her family were complex and nuanced. Her love for her parents simultaneously warred with her anger at them, her attraction to Whit danced alongside her rejection of his alcoholism and the fact that he works for her uncle, she desired her Tio’s acceptance and love while also being wary and suspicious of him. 

These intricate relationships were one of the things I enjoyed the most about What the River Knows. However, emotions were not always Isabel Ibañez’s strong suit.

My other main criticism of this book was a strange lack of emotional beats during certain scenes. Sometimes Inez’s emotions were spot on and multi-dimensional—portraying the thoughts and feelings of a real human being dealing with enormous change and shocking events.

Other times, however, I felt like Inez focused on the completely wrong thing while enormous occasions of magnitude were occurring. I won’t spoil what these are, but she would learn a harrowing filial detail and comment for a page and a half instead on how attractive Whit was. 

….Like what? It’s the equivalent of having a tornado hurtling towards your house and only remarking instead on what your crush posted on instagram. The gravity of what Inez focused on didn’t always make sense. 

For a main character who’s supposedly so mature and smart, it was a bad stylistic choice that she didn’t reflect or even think about massively significant events happening in her life during different moments in the plot beyond a few simple phrases. It bothered me just as much as I thought it was a dead give away. 

Isabel Ibañez tries to create some twists and turns in this novel—all of which I predicted because Inez simply didn’t think about a particular issue too deeply.

Whenever that happened, it was a clear indicator that more was going to happen with said issue. I think Isabel Ibañez was trying to be sneaky and subtle, but instead it made it glaringly obvious and shallower than the book needed to be. 

While some of Isabel Ibañez’s emotional beats scored and others failed, her descriptions of Egypt always succeeded. I’ve never read a book set in Egypt before and I loved all the descriptions about it.

From the lurid details of the Nile, the history involving Britain’s imperialization, to the food, language, and architecture, Isabel Ibañez did an incredible job setting the scene and making it magical. 

And while her words were magical in of itself, Isabel Ibañez also literally made her world magical by having artifacts imbued with old world sorcery.

The small slice of life fantasy elements never interrupted the story too much, but every time a small piece of magic would arrive, I devoured the explanation of what it did, how it worked, and its connection to Ancient Egypt. 

By the time I turned the last page of What the River Knows, I had thoroughly enjoyed myself. The characters, the world, the relationships—it was all a beautiful concoction that allowed me to overlook the flaws I perceived while reading.

While I don’t think this is a perfect book by any means, it was really thought out and different from other YA books in the sense that the tropes Ibañez uses were all very well executed, especially the enemies-to-lovers romance (which is getting increasingly saturated and cliched in the YA market). 

I am excited to read the sequel and can’t wait to discover Inez’s next adventure, her relationship with Whit, more information about her parents, and the continued world building that helped make this book such a charming read from start to finish in the first place. 

Recommendation: If you want a Bridgerton-Esque tale with hints of magic, complicated family relationships, and set in the fascinating land of Egypt, this is the book for you.

Even if you don't like all those things, this is still the book for you because it’s a great book that will hook you one way or another, be it the romance, the history, the low fantasy, or the crocodile-packed action sequences.

Score: 7/10

[thetypedwriter]

Emily Wilde's Encyclopaedia of Fairies

Emily Wilde’s Encyclopaedia of Faeries Book Review by Heather Fawcett

This book was very, very cozy. 

Even though there were some objectively dark moments, like fairies getting skewered by tree branches like kabobs, most of the book was a feel-good easy read. 

The novel surrounds the life of the scholastic grump, one Emily Wilde. Instead of focusing on things not worth her time, like fashion, keeping her hair tidy, decorating, or even relationships—both platonic and romantic—Emily’s main obsession are fairies, so much so that she’s dedicated her life to researching them. 

If you think that Emily is sad and bereft with this kind of lifestyle, you are wrong. She is perfectly content, thank you very much, to be out doing field work, writing in her journal, or working on her encyclopaedia by her lonesome (which she prefers). 

She has one last kind of fae to research, the remote Fair Folk in Hrafnsvik, a tiny village in Norway where the landscape is icy and the people are even icier.

As Emily begins her investigations into the landscape around Hrafnsvik, she finds herself stymied by her lack of social skills and accidentally offending the rustic townspeople who don’t understand the mousy researcher that is hunkering down in their home.

Stubborn and deciding that she doesn’t need help, Emily perseveres until she is rudely interrupted by her academic rival from Cambrdige, the beautiful and insufferable Wendall Bambleby.

While scorning him left and right, Emily is secretly relieved to have her one and only friend join her in such an unwelcoming place, scholastic competitor or not. 

With Bambleby by her side, Emily starts to delve into the secrets of the Hidden Ones, finding along the way that opening up to people, making friendships, and relying on others is just as important and fulfilling as finishing her encyclopaedia, and is, in fact, necessary in order to achieve and succeed with reaching her dreams. 

While this book had plenty of action, humor, and heartwarming moments, I feel like I’ve summed it up quite well in just a few short paragraphs.

The relationship between Emily and Bambleby is endearing, one that leaves you either in laughter or with a smile every time they interact. 

All the characters in the novel were very charming. I found myself forgetting which townsperson was who, Thora versus Lilja versus Margaret, but I genuinely don’t think it made that much of a difference. 

One of the best parts about this book was how fun and easy it was to read while also having substance and moments of genuine intrigue and thoughtfulness.

Emily’s steadfastness when it comes to her research is a refreshing take on a female protagonist, especially when dealing with fairies. 

The scholastic lens in which you read through the novel offers good insight into folklore as a whole, but also lends a refreshing narrative of a female character that cares more about her academic pursuits than romance with a fairy prince. 

Speaking of, while the romance in this book is very light, that isn’t to say that it’s shallow. Instead the relationship between Bambleby and Emily is so light and fluffy that I couldn’t even tell if there was something stirring between them until the later half of the book, largely in part because Emily’s whole character doesn’t center around her feelings for Bambleby. 

Emily’s journey of learning to lean on and open up to people was also very enchanting. The progression aligned well with her character and also to the events around her.

This sounds simple in theory, but I feel like authors often struggle to give characters arcs and to have them also make sense in the context of the plot. 

While Heather Fawcett has already written the sequel, Emily Wilde’s Map of the Otherlands, and while I greatly enjoyed this book, I strongly feel no need to read the sequel. 

Emily and her journey came to a satisfying end that doesn’t leave me itching for more. She completed her self-discovery, finished her encyclopaedia, realized her faults, and became better as a person. 

The only cliffhanger that remained is the status of her relationship with Bambleby, but oddly I find myself okay with that because in my heart’s canon, I know they would end up together, squabbling over Emily’s choice of fashion (or lack thereof). 

Normally when I find a book I enjoy, I desire to devour everything and anything the world has to offer to me. In this strange case, I am content to close the book on Emily Wilde and her love of fairies forever, encasing it amber without adding in a potentially not-as-good sequel. 

Recommendation: A great summer read to bask in while suntanning by the pool. You will languish in the heat as you read about the frigid temperatures Emily has to go through while conducting research.

It's a light and easy read that will fill you up with contentment and satisfaction (while teaching you more about fairies than you even deigned to know). 

Score: 7/10

[thetypedwriter]

Solitaire Book Review

Solitaire Book Review by Alice Oseman 

I’ve loved every book I’ve ever read by Alice Oseman. Granted, that’s only been Loveless and Radio Silence, but both of those books were fantastic. I never read Oseman’s infinitely popular graphic novel series Hearstopper, but I did watch the first season on Netflix and really enjoyed that too. 

So going into Oseman’s book Solitaire, had me filled with high expectations and eager anticipation. Unfortunately those expectations and excitement dwindled to something I’ve never experienced with Oseman before: disappointment. 

Apparently, Alice Oseman wrote Solitaire when she was seventeen-years-old. I’m a little confused on the history, but I’m assuming she wrote Heartstopper first and then Solitaire as a follow-up side novel.

Again, I didn’t look into the details. All I know is that she wrote this book twelve years ago, that it was her debut novel, and that it shows. 

Instead of focusing on Nick and Charlie, Solitaire focuses on Charlie’s sister, Victoria Spring. The best way I can describe Tori is that she is Wednesday Addams embodied, which is ironic seeing as Tori dresses up like Wednesday for Halloween in the novel (very on the nose, Alice). 

However, people seem to like Wednesday Addams’ despondent and cynical attitude (I don’t get it, for the record). I abhor Tori Spring. Maybe abhor is too strong of a word, but she was not a likable narrator. She’s pessimistic, apathetic, rude, judgmental, callous, and mean. 

Her whole schtick is that she thinks other people are “fake” and dislikes that people don’t act in the world, allowing the world to happen to them and only being bystanders to violence, hate, and toxicity. 

And yet…Tori does nothing? The entire novel? The person she supposedly hates the most describes the person Tori is herself.

Which I guess is fitting because Tori seems to despise herself more than anyone. You think as a reader that Tori will grow out of her depression by the end of the novel and come to some sort of understanding or epiphany. 

Spoiler alert: she doesn't. 

If anything, she spirals worse and worse, becoming increasingly sleep-deprived, paranoid, despondent, and obsessive. I get that Oseman wanted a more realistic portrayal of mental health perhaps, or maybe she didn’t think it was realistic for Tori to have a happy ending. 

However, she didn't really get any ending at all. 

Before I get to the conclusion of the story, I guess I should actually explain what the novel is about. 

Tori’s childhood best friend, Lucas, suddenly reappears in her life years later. Around the same time, mysterious pranks start occurring around Higgs, Tori’s school.

Harmless at first, the pranks pulled by the anonymous group Solitaire continuously grow in popularity and in danger, eventually leading to a boy getting beat up, Tori getting hurt by a firework exploding near her, and then, at the end of the novel, Higgs burning down. 

You might ask: why did the school burn down?

I wish I could tell you, but I have no idea. 

Apparently, Lucas was in charge of Solitaire and was doing it all to impress Tori and to bring some “joy” back into her life before the jokes spiraled out of control.

However, Lucas comes to understand that Tori is no longer the girl he knew back in primary school and that she’s drastically changed. He did it because he was in “love” with her, but then admits at the end that he was more in love with the idea of her. 

Okayyyyyy. 

Then, for some inexplicable reason, other people are at Higgs at 5am, including one Michael Holden, Tori’s new fiend and resident “weirdo.”

The ending of the novel then churns out nonsense after nonsense. Tori and her ex-best friend Becky confront Solitaire and persuade them to not burn down the school.

But then, inexplicably, Tori walks out of the room and a classroom is on fire. How? Why? I don’t know. 

I’m unsure if the insinuation is that Michael did it or if Lucas or Solitaire still managed to do it, but all I know is that I was confused. 

Instead of getting better it gets decidedly worse. 

Somehow, Tori thinks she’s going to put out a raging inferno with a single fire extinguisher and chooses now to act instead of evacating a burning building, is lead to believe that Michael is dead from the fire, and then decides to go up to the roof to contemplate suicide. 

Somehow, though, her brother Charlie, Nick, and some other people are outside telling her not to jump. Why are they out there? Some kind of reason.

Apparently Lucas tweeted about it or blogged about the fire so the whole student body is there at 5am to witness the school burning down and see Tori standing on the roof. 

But no fire trucks, police, or authority were there originally, because that would be too logical. 

Alas, Michael is not dead and shows up on the roof to tell Tori that she’s his best friend, they kiss out of left-field, and Tori is convinced not to kill herself. 

The novel ends with them driving to the hospital and with Tori realizing she’s not alone. 

….what? 

The ending was such a jumbled catastrophe that I don’t understand what really happened. It was too climactic and intense in a way that was completely at odds with the tone and plot of the story.

You don’t get any kind of meaningful resolution with Tori other than realizing that she needs a lot of help and care. 

This book was a mess. 

Tori was unlikeable, has no discernible growth as a character, and other people weren incomprehensibly drawn to her and wanted to be friends with her, despite her flat out ignoring them, blowing them off, or being uncommunicative. 

The plot involving Solitaire was ridiculous and uninteresting, culminating in an ending that made no discernible sense and lacked purpose and logic. 

I know people love Heartstopper and Alice Oseman (myself included), but this book is not it. If they decided to publish this novel written twelve years ago simply because the show is popular and they said, “Hey, why not?” they chose wrong. 

I know publishers these days have the mentality of milking a series for all its worth, but this book didn’t add anything of substance, purpose, or heart. 

If anything, it detracts from the Heartstopper universe and makes me appreciate how much Oseman has grown as a writer. The Heartstopper universe is doing just fine on its own. It doesn't need side novels about Tori or about any other character.

Leave it alone, please, I beg of you. 

Recommendation: Solitaire is a poor man’s crappy version of Catcher in the Rye—a book Alice Oseman herself mentions at the end of the novel, stating that none of her characters have read it. Well, they probably should have. It’s a much better story than Solitaire.

Score: 4/10