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Monday, January 27, 2020



Line breaks
    mean something
and shouldn't be used
for artistic appeal.
         -Bib With a Blog

thanks to netgalley and the publishers for the eARC I received of Amanda Lovelace's Break Your Glass Slippers in exchange for a fair and honest review.

amanda lovelace (Amanda Lovelace?) is very popular and I get why.

Typical poetry is not the easiest to read. You know there is hidden meaning there and it's hard to get at. It makes readers feel frustrated and stupid. It is hard to know when to turn the page because you are battling over whether you have sat with the poem long enough to fully get it.

amanda lovelace's poems don't have that effect. they are bite sized and easy to digest. They contain little bits of self-help that teach you how to love yourself in a patriarchal world that seeks to destroy women. The titles of her books are lovely and the poems themselves are easily quotable. They fit perfectly on an Instagram page.

If I sound scornful, I know that's petty. There is nothing wrong with lovelace's poetry and, as a mom, I have to say that when my teen daughter begged for lovelace's last volume, I was thrilled. Poetry that actually speaks to people. That people actually want to buy. That is genuinely exciting.

Follow that up with the fact that these particular poems are inspired by fairy tales and I so, so want to like them! I think lovelace is doing something fun and cool here and I don;t want to be the Debbie Downer that pees on her parade. Besides, I am not a poet. Who am I to be down on her writing?

But I just don't love it. It reads like Hallmark cards: shallow. Easy. Cheap. there's not much below the surface. While it speaks to people and addresses issues that I think are very relate-able, it does it with little in the way of artistry. Her line breaks read as particularly shallow, like she literally breaks just to turn little snippets of advice into poetry. As I so often am, I am torn on this work because I always want to be kind to works of writing that I wish I liked, even when I don't. this is one of those. It's a work where I feel like if she would just push a little more, add a bit more depth, I could like it, but as it stands, it's just too simple. By her third collection, I think lovelace could be doing more.

Monday, October 7, 2019

Dear Ali: a review of Dear Girls by Ali Wong

Dear Ali: a Review of Ali Wong’s Dear Girls


Thank you to NetGalley and the publishers for the arc of this book I received in exchange for a fair and honest review.

Dear Ali,

I was caught off guard by how much I enjoyed this book.

I’m not going to lie; I’m not a huge fan of comedy. I often find the jokes too easy and I don’t like laughter that feels so inorganic. This makes me really popular with the hubby as I am sure you can imagine. 


I was still excited to read your book, though. While I don’t always like stand up, I (for some reason) really like to read the memoirs comics write. Yours was, frankly, significantly better than most.

You were so frank and honest and it was touching to read how direct you were in a book that is marketed as a letter to your children. It was so sex positive and, as you know, it’s so unusual to read something that treats sex as so natural without handling it with kid gloves. I like that you were real about your mistakes, but just as real about how beneficial some mistakes can be. 

I loved that you talked about your bush. That probably sounds weird, but again, it feels like most writing about body positivity is so contrived. Like people are always complaining about the same body parts in the same ways. The truth is, body hair can be really annoying and embarrassing and I love that you highlighted such a non-cliché struggle women face. And fuck that guy who told you that you had too much hair! Did he shave his balls? I’m guessing no.

No one asked for a favorite thing about the book, but I have to say, it’s your views on Motherhood. You are so real, so authentic. Again, its not the same old story of that time you accidentally sent the baby to school in mismatched socks (gasp!). It’s a look at (and a laugh at) how relentless and exhausting and worrying motherhood can be. 

This book was at once light and funny and also serious and profound. It was dark truths told in a way that made you stifle a guilty giggle. It was fun, and decadent, and irreverent, but also clever.

Dear Ali, I loved it.

4/5

Friday, September 20, 2019

One Night Read: a review of One Night Gone by Tara Laskowski

Thank you to NetGalley and the publishers for the arc of this book that I received in exchange for a fair and honest review.


Now I have to actually write that review, and that is the hard part. It’s going to be hard because, frankly, I was just so in the middle about this book. Nothing was horrible, but nothing was particularly good, either. 

One Night Gone is going to be a hard one for me to review, simply because I feel really ambivalent about it. I liked it. It was a fast, easy read, which—lets be honest—is what you want out of a mystery. The multiple perspectives format seems to be almost the norm in a thriller these days, so that was almost expected. The storyline itself was fine. 

One Night Gone is the story of Allison, a recently divorced meteorologist who takes a job as a house sitter in a beach town while contemplating her next move. While there, she meets Tammy, a local, and is quickly embroiled in a decades old disappearing person mystery. There are all the basic themes that we’ve all come to associate with small beach towns: class issues, family secrets, and lots and lots of infidelity. 

I don’t really have any problems with One Night Gone except that there was a lot of what felt familiar and kind of cliched and everything interesting and different fell flat. We have these characters with rich potential: Allison has some mental health issues, Maureen is a carnie, Tammy has an ailing mother that she is responsible for. All this great potential to deepen the story, but instead we have mostly interchangeable characters with little that sets them apart. Like the rest of the story, it was just fine. To me, this is a book I could recommend to someone who sees it in stock at the library, but wouldn’t recommend buying. It’s a quick read, the story is very easy to get into, and it’s entertaining. It’s just nothing to write home about.

3/5

Thursday, September 12, 2019

This book would definitely be banned in Big Burr: A reviewof Under the Rainbow

A review of Celia Laskey's Under the Rainbow

Thank you to NetGalley and the publishers for the ARC of Under the Rainbow that I received in exchange for a fair and honest review.

I really liked this book and not just for the obvious reasons. Yes, it had an interesting plot that really drove the story. Yes, the characters were well-written and felt very authentic. But there is a lor more to it than that. The style, that of a composite novel told in non-repeating shifting perspectives (which I was really resistant to at first) actually showed the evolution of the town and the way all the interactions did eventually feed off each other. It really served to make Big Burr the main character, as it should be.

This book reminds me a lot of Sherwood Anderson's Winesburg, Ohio, and not just because of the composite novel form. Also, in many ways its almost like an update of the plot: a quiet, idyllic small town where one would suspect innocence is really harboring darkness beneath the surface. Not too earth shaking when I describe it like that, but mixed in with the idea that this small town (Bigg Burr Kansas), "the most homophobic town in the country" is--and I am struggling to find the right word because everything that captures how the residents would feel, like invaded by, feel problematic to be as a staunch LGBT supporter--visited by a task force of LGBTQ advocated who have agreed to spend two years trying to bring around the bigoted community, it is really a pretty complex and engaging novel with a lot of really interesting moments.

Tuesday, September 10, 2019

Deep and Darkest Page Turner: a review of Anna-Marie McLemore’s Dark and Deepest Red

Thank you to NetGalley and the publishers for the ARC of the beautiful Dark and Deepest Red that I received in exchange for a fair and honest review.


With a talent for weaving a story that rivals that of Neil Gaiman, Anna-Marie McLemore has created a dazzling and heartbreaking fairy tale with her newest book, Dark and Deepest Red

Starting with the fascinating story of the dancing plague of 1518, McLemore crafts a tale that challenges the idea that the past ever leaves us alone. 

Emil is a scientist, Rosella a strong willed artisan, Lala a girl who loves with all the loyalty and fire she can muster. Despite two timelines that keep their worlds separate, the three lives intertwine as each struggles to find their own spot within their culture, family, and community. Faced with the same question, each must come to their own question: should they deny what makes them unique in order to blend in to their communities, or should they reclaim their own roots to fulfill their own destinies? How do you save yourself from the curses of the past? 

The novel Dark and Deepest Red is one that will stay with me— fitting for a novel that teaches the importance of history. Pushing all that aside, straying from ideas of themes, all I can say is that this was the most beautifully written, breathtaking story I might’ve ever read. Anna-Marie McLemore’s lyrical, poetic language dances alongside the victims of the fever, capturing you more and more with its spell. I couldn’t stop reading it. At times, I couldn’t stop the tears. I was so invested in the fates of these characters that at times, I could barely catch my breath.

Despite the praise I’ve lavished upon the text, I won’t say that it’s perfect: the more modern timeline is ever so slightly less compelling than that of the 1518 Strasbourg timeline. But that’s almost not worth mentioning and resolves itself in time. How can you really care about that when you have a novel that takes one of the most fascinating phenomena in history—the dancing plague—and weaves it into a gut wrenching fairy story of love and passion? Short answer: you can’t. It’s beautiful. Buy it now.


Wednesday, August 14, 2019

Yay, the feminist is coming: Lindy West’s The Witches are Coming

Thank you to NetGalley and the publishers for the ARC of the amazing The Witches are Coming that I received in exchange for a fair and honest review.


From her stint as a writer for Jezebel to her amazing book Shrill, I’ve been a fan of Lindy West. I was so excited when I saw that The Witches are Coming was available to request from NetGalley that I smashed that request button. Later that evening, when my request was approved, it’s possible that I squeaked in delight.

The Witches are Coming did not disappoint. With West’s sharp tongue and shrewd observation, I found myself in a constant state of underlining and nodding. With passages such as: “Art has no obligation to evolve, but it has a powerful incentive to do so. Art that is static, that captures a dead moment, is nothing. It is, at best, nostalgia; at worst, it can be a blight on our sense of who we are, a shame we pack away,” West sums up the battle currently being waged in America between those who long for a more compassionate, sensitive type of entertainment and those who want only to preserve, despite the lack of merit in doing so. Making no apologies for the truth she speaks, West is a soldier with her pen. 

The best piece in this collection, I think, was “Joan,” a piece that really highlights the complexities of being a female entertainer. She points out the ways in which female entertainers are pitted against each other, although she adds that it is not as bad as it was when Joan Rivers was struggling to make her way to the top. No longer can there “only be one.” 

This book is a must read for anyone interested in gender, intersectional feminism, or simply pop culture. Witty and clever, West doesn’t disappoint at entertaining. 


5/5

Thursday, June 27, 2019

So, Everything I “Knew” was Wrong: a Review of Dave Cullen’s Columbine

I was a freshman in high school when Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold committed their heinous crime against their peers at Columbine High School. An unpopular, often bullied teen girl,I didn’t relate to the two boys, but I did feel sad for them. So shunned and alienated that they felt they had no other option, they had resorted to the unthinkable...

So imagine my surprise when I found out that nearly everything I remember from the media coverage surrounding the shooting was wrong. The boys weren’t in the “Trench Coat Mafia.” They weren’t bullied (and in fact often bullied younger students and people from marginalized groups). They came from normal families with decent incomes and Eric even had a date for prom. In other words, after reading Columbine by Dave Cullen, it seems more like Eric and Dylan we’re bored suburbanites suffering from mild affluenza than the outcasts I have spent my life believing they were.

While the correction of the media portrayal of Dylan and Eric was by far the element that I was most interested in, that’s not the only revelation the book discusses. Cullen explores the impact of the shooting on local religious groups, the truth behind the alleged martyrdom of Cassie Bernal, and the personal effects: things like depression, the dissolution of marriages, and more.

Columbine shone an in-depth and vivid, yet respectful, light on what will always stand out to me as the very unfortunate beginning of something. While the massacre at Columbine was certainly not the first school shooting on America’s soil, it is the first I was aware of and the one that stunned me to my core. It was the one that made me wake up to the fact that bad things could happen at school. Now, twenty years later, school shootings get a day or two of media coverage and are largely forgotten. Columbine, as Dave Cullen tells his audience, was first page news in The New York Times every day for two weeks. 

While this book doesn’t have a blatant message, it definitely shows us how much our culture has changed as school shootings have become all too common. Constantly showing a new angle, yet easy to follow and understand, this book was a page turner from the opening. I would recommend this very strongly with the warning that it isn’t easy to read.


4.5/5

Monday, June 24, 2019

ICYMI BOOK PICK: Every Heart a Doorway by Seanan McGuire (Wayward Children #1)



I know you are never supposed to judge a book by its cover, but sometimes they're just so beautiful, I can't resist. This is one of those; a sturdy wooden door with a forest backdrop. A sunset. It gave me all the feels as soon as I picked it up.

Seanan McGuire's Every Heart a Doorway is the first in a series, but from what I've read on Goodreads, they each seem to be standalone (at least to some extent). the first book is focused on Nancy, the newest arrival at Miss Eleanor's home for Wayward Children. At first, I was hesitant to read this book. The name of the school sounded a bit too much like a Home for Peculiar Children rip-off but, while there are definitely similarities (supernatural elements, outcasts living under the roof of a loving, eccentric woman), that's not the case. The children at Miss Eleanor's are all united by a different quirky detail: they have all been kicked out of their magic
worlds (think Wonderland, Narnia) and have to acclimate to being back in the "real world."

Nancy is an outcast from the Land of the Dead and she is not into the brightness of the world around her. She's all about stillness, so the characters living around her are a bit much, particularly her roommate. It seems like Nancy is going to quietly bide her time until she can get home, but before that can happen, the borders start.

Part fantasy, part mystery, this book is ultimately a whodunit and why novel. The setting gives it a new depth and I found the idea behind it (what happens to kids who come back from fairyland) really fun and unique. All in all, great premise. The characters, too, were pretty cool: Kade, a trans boy who had to leave his land when he couldn’t be a princess, Jack and Jill, sisters, from some sort of war zone, and Nancy, who is asexual, all provided some diversity and I was about it. Nancy, though, was pretty flat and whole that’s part of her storyline, it felt lazy to me. Something could’ve made her a bit more dynamic. While I enjoyed the book, I was still glad her particular story was over. That said, the ending, too, was too easy. I won’t go into detail to avoid spoilers, but the ending felt too sudden and just wrapped things up too neatly. There were huge pacing issues. At just under 200 pages, there was definitely room to develop the ending a bit more and take some time to explore. As it stands now, it’s very abrupt.

All that said, I liked this book a lot more than I disliked it. The whimsical plot and lively cast of characters kept me entertained. I’ve already checked book four of the series out of the library (obviously I hate to read things out of order, but since they didn’t have the other two and these are standalone, I said what the heck) and I’m excited to read the therapist’s story. I’ll let you know what I think.

Happy reading!

Wednesday, May 22, 2019

An Even and Rewarding Short Story Collection: We Love Anderson Cooper by RL Maizes


First, a big thank you to NetGalley and the publishers for the ARC of We Love Anderson Cooper written by R.L. Maizes.


This was a pretty even short story collection. While there were some standouts, none of the included stories were bad or particularly weak with one exception that I will explain below. They all shared a very subtle style and they all touched on different elements of humanity.

The standouts, to me, stood out in a big way. "We Love Anderson Cooper," the story of a soon to be Bar
Mitzvahed young man who was struggling with his sexuality,  was both heartbreaking and hilarious. It was particularly strong because the plot of the story never overshadowed the authenticity of what I saw as the real struggle: figuring out that becoming an adult means balancing your own needs with the way your actions affect others.

Another really strong story was "Tattoo," which I read twice and would like to revisit a third time. Of all the stories in the collection, this was the one that most sucked me in because there was something happening below the surface that I wanted to figure out. I'm not sure I have. don't misunderstand me: this isn't some confusing, dark and twisty story. While there is definitely magical realism at work in this one, the plot itself is very straight forward. There's just a lot of social commentary that I want to fully think through. This story was my favorite of the bunch.

As I mentioned above, only one story in the collection really missed the mark for me and that was "Collections." It's not that I didn't enjoy the story. It was fine. It's just that it didn't reach the quality that the other stories had and, frankly, when I was thinking about writing this review and revisited the Table of Contents, I couldn't remember reading it. It was just a very bland story and I think that being mediocre made it stand out because the rest were so strong.

The rest of the stories cover some of the uglier elements of humanity: infidelity, bitterness, becoming a cat. they are solidly good, steady reads. I'll say this: if you like character driven stories over plot heavy writing, these stories are for you. They are like a tooth with an exposed nerve; they show the things about human nature that we'd probably rather avoid. This, to me, is a must read.

Monday, April 29, 2019

Monday Review: Orpheus Girl by Brynne Rebele-Henry


Thank you to NetGalley, Brynne Rebele-Henry, and the publishers for the free E-ARC I received of this book in exchange for a fair and honest review.

I have to say, I was super stoked to read this book. Let's be real: the subject matter is really hot right now. right? With both The Miseducation of Cameron Post and Boy, Erased being adapted for film, as well as a Vice President of The US who is in favor of them, Conversion therapy centers are a big part of the conversation going on. And, let's be real, it's a conversation that should've been happening at much louder decibels much sooner: these places are basically torture chambers for LGBT kids.

Brynne Rebele-Henry does a really nice job of showing that in her book. With the story of two lesbian teens, Raya and Sarah,  in love, she paints a picture of just how dangerous life can still be for LGBT youth in America, especially in the rural South. With her depiction of Conversion Camps, she doesn't turn away from the pain that these kids undergo, but she also doesn't relish in exploiting that pain. I feel like Rebele-Henry does a really nice job of walking right up to the line between authentic and honest and a bit gratuitous and landing on the right side.

That said, there are a lot of things about this book that read like a first novel (which it is). It's short and feels exceptionally rushed all throughout the middle. The build up in the conversion camp is non-existent: it goes from 1-100 in a day. I'm not saying that's inaccurate: I honestly don't know what the schedule of tortures looks like at one of those places. either way, though, for a story, the pacing doesn't work.

Another issue I had with the book was that it was hyper repetitive in some places. To the point that I think some passages almost entirely repeat. I wasn't sure if that was intentional--maybe to show the slowing of thoughts due to some of the torment Raya goes through--but if it was, it could be made to read as more intentional.

Finally, I had very little sense of setting here.  I know that Raya and Sarah are from a small town and I'm guessing it's a Southern one, but when are we? The fashion of the "popular girls" (frosty blue eyeliner, especially), made me think we are in the early aughts, but then a girl at the camp said that in most places, being gay was considered normal, so I thought maybe closer to present? Given that gay marriage was only legalized in the US four years ago, it makes a pretty big difference in terms of the context of the book.

All that said, the flaws are totally forgivable issues that might make an avid reader pause, but that don't take anything away from the importance of the work. So often, I hear kids talk about how it's no big deal to be gay anymore, that there's no risk to LGBT youth, but these torture chambers are only illegal in 15 out of 50 states. That means (ignoring the increased risk of homelessness, assault, etc) if nothing else, in 35 states, they face this risk. This is a must read for people who need to know what being gay can mean, even today.

4/5 stars.

Wednesday, April 24, 2019

Love Note to the Dark Teenage Comedies of a Better Generation: A Review of Laurie Petrou's Love, Heather

"I want to burn everything to the ground and emerge brand new: a strong, happy, funny, confident Phoenix--Love Heather, Laurie Petrou


The sentiment of wanting to burn everything down isn't new, particularly when we are talking about high school students. I'm sure not all of us, but equally sure a lot of us, can empathize with that idea. Maybe you've even had it yourself a time or two. It's not even an earth shatteringly different idea for a kid in a fiction novel to try to do just that: to create chaos, to right wrongs, to get revenge. This book isn't shocking and it's plot isn't a revolutionary one. The cool thing is, that's not the point at all.

Love, Heather is about the pain you feel when you find yourself alone. High school freshman, Stevie, is alone. Her parents divorced and both her mom and her dad are more worried about making their new lives than trying to make sure Stevie's life is working out. Her best friend since childhood, Lottie, has started hanging out with a new crowd (friendship breakups: what's more relate-able than that?). In short, everyone that Stevie should be able to count on is gone.

Enter Dee, a new friend who helps Stevie find the power to burn it all to the ground. Who seems to know her thoughts from the inside out. Who is exactly what Stevie was missing.


Now, given the title and references to the book, it's pretty clear that "Dee" is just a platonic, female version of J.D. from Heathers. Even the name smacks of intertextuality, so this goes a little deeper than mild references (hello, even the title and movement within the book is a nod to the film). That's not to say you can't enjoy this book if you haven't seen Heathers, but honestly, if you haven't I have two questions for you: what's your damage? Did you have a brain tumor for breakfast? Watch it. Winona Ryder, Shannon Doherty, Christian Slater . . . there's no risk here.

Movie gushing aside, this book was really good. Personal overshare here: I have three children, so while I read more than most, it takes a lot for me to put it all on hold and read for hours on end. I had trouble putting this one down because a) there's a thing I wanted to see if I was right about and b) it was really fast paced and enjoyable.

Okay, so you know how books about high school usually fall into the two extremes of being overly precious or so overly dramatic they read like a Lifetime movie script? this one, one that had so much chance of going totally off the cliff, really didn't. It felt very authentic to what it's like to be in that weird, liminal space of adolescence. sure, Stevie was self-absorbed and had a tendency to make things about her: isn't that the hallmark of being a teenager? But the other stuff, the big, thematic stuff, worked. Petrou discussed sexuality and gender and consent in ways that actually felt like they were just things the character was experiencing, rather than some super edgy, look-at-this-social-problem manifesto. this is a worthwhile read for anyone middle school aged or older. Obviously it's a bit dark for anyone younger than that and I'm sure many will even say it's too much for a middle school kid, but. . . I would argue they are forgetting what middle school really looks like. This is it, y'all. This is youth at its meanest and most honest.

Loved it.

5/5


Saturday, April 20, 2019

If you are Lost, find this: a review of We are Lost and Found by Helene Dunbar



Thanks to NetGalley and the publishers for the EARC I received in exchange for a fair and honest review.

Before I read Helene Dunbar’s We are Lost and Found, I read a blurb comparing it to The Perks of Being a Wallflower. I couldn’t help but do a (figurative) double take since PoBaW, Stephen Chbosky’s coming of age masterpiece is pretty much my go to read when I want to really think about the high school experience for anyone who doesn’t fit neatly into a clique. In other words, a pretty high bar was set before I even started reading.

I have to say, this book totally lived up to my expectations. It was heartbreaking and raw and addressed things head on. So head on, in fact, that you flinch as you feel them coming towards you. 

We are Lost and Found focuses primarily on our main character, Michael, his best friends, Becky and James, and his brother Connor. All the male characters are young, gay males struggling with their sexualities at the beginning of the AIDS epidemic in NYC. The book asks questions that, while specific to the epidemic, are still timely today: how do teens minimize the risks to their bodies while exploring their sexualities? How can you protect yourself when it requires so much faith in other people? How can you have faith when your life experiences are telling you not to?


Tackling the issues of STIs, sexuality, love, commitment, and familial stress, We are Lost and Found is an authentic and genuine journey through the angst of adolescence. It faces these issues without being overwrought or soap operaesque. It’s painful, thoughtful, sweet, and hopeful. This is the book every teen should read this year.

Tuesday, April 16, 2019

The Perfect Review . . . of The Perfect Child by Lucinda Berry


Thank you to NetGalley for the ARC of this book that I received in exchange for a fair and honest review.

Half the time, unless I find it to be just dreadful, I don't even write about endings. Endings, to me, are such a small part of the book that unless they are just dreadful, they just aren't that important. they are a way to wrap things up, which is always my least favorite part. That's why it will probably seem unusual that for this book, Lucinda Berry's The Perfect Child, I'm going to (no spoilers!) talk about the ending first.

I wasn't bothered by the ending of this book. A lot of people really, really were. In fact, if you spend three minutes on Goodreads looking at reviews of this book, that is by far the most common review point: no ending. Now, I get that complaint. Technically, it is a bit open-ended. But seriously, only technically. Like I said above, I won't give you spoilers, but what I'll say is this: the event that the book ends on is outlined enough in the pages leading up to the end that readers should get a sense of closure. The major question that is asked throughout the book is answered (although I will say that anyone who has ever read a book will know the answer pretty much from the jump). There is official closure. The book does have an ending.

All that said, I don't know how I felt about this book.

Once I was able to get into it, I read it pretty quickly. I kind of had trouble getting myself to read it at first, but once I started *actually* reading (you readers know what I mean) I finished it in two days. It's a quick, easy read and there's enough consistent action that I was sucked in.

that said, what's with all these books having such a gross, anti-adoption undertone? Before someone says I'm reading too much into it, let's be real: the attitude is very much "because she's a bit troubled, this adopted kid is not our actual family." it is there and it is blatant enough that a family member even says it.

Now, I can already hear your protestations: but Bib, she's evil. the child is evil.

Okay, that's true, but biological children can be evil. Biological children can be rapists, murdered, thieves, whatever. There is just as much chance of that. and don't we see it on the news all the time: when children mess up in huge ways that hurt people, their parents, for the most part, are still their parents. I'm not sure it's fair to the adoptee-adoptor relationship to suggest that most adoptive parents aren't just as loyal to their non-biological children.

and speaking of not fair: Christopher, whyyyyy? why are you, and basically all men in similar books (think Baby Teeth) such gaslighting buttholes to your practical, logical wives? Do you have no respect for them? Do you think they're dumb? why do men treat their wives live crazy, irrational children in this whole evil-child genre? It's a bit upsetting.


In summation: this was a quick and easy read that, despite making me want to throw it once or thrice, was worth the couple hours it would take to read it. 3.5/5 stars.