A review of Joy Avon’s Sweet Tea and Secrets

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

Really cute cover, isn’t it? 

I was really excited when I saw Joy Avon had written the next book in her Book Tea Shop series. I really did enjoy In Peppermint Peril and I assumed Sweet Tea and Secrets would be no different. 

I’m going to sum up my experience with this book in a really concise way and it’s going to feel a little cold, but here it is: you won’t regret reading this book because it is enjoyable, but if you don’t read it, you will miss nothing you couldn’t get from a million other books (and honestly, done much more expertly).

 As much as I really did find this to be a quick, easy, light read, there were some things that just ruined the experience for me. 

I couldn’t stand to read Joy Avon’s attempts at dialogue. It was so awkward! She uses dialogue for things that could be shown in exposition, to over explain things to lead a reader, to do anything but develop character: all the characters talk exactly the same! They all constantly answer questions with the phrase “of course,” for example. They all deliver frequent monologues. I suspect they all talk like Joy Avon, to be honest. While the characters are charming and nice, their dialogue is uncomfortable and dull. The big reveal goes on for pages because the person who reveals the secret repeats what has already been said over and over. It’s really, really hard to read because it’s just bad writing.

There were two major reveals in this books. The first reveal was no shocker. I knew the answer at about 18% into the book. The first time I met the character who solves the whole thing (trying not to give spoilers), I was like, “yep.” The second was a little more surprising, especially because as a reader you kind of get the sense that the first reveal will make sense of the whole plot, but even with that going for it, Avon spoon-feeds the reader too much. There are too many blatant clues so that even though you’re surprised that there’s another twist, by the time you get the answer you are already prepared and it’s a pretty big let down (not to mention it comes with even more of that painful dialogue).

The last thing that really bugged me about this book was the dynamic between Falk and Callie. As I wrote about in my review of book one, Falk and Callie don’t seem to have much chemistry to start with and, once again, she seems to annoy the fire out of him about 90% of the time. I can kind of forgive that because if I’m being honest, I annoy my husband about that much out of every day and we’ve been married a decade. At the end of the first book, I was willing to buy that something happens between them even though it’s left open and we don’t see what.

The whole. Second. Book. Callie is pining over Falk and wondering why he’s ignoring her emails when we find out that nothing happens after their flirtation at Christmas and it been six freaking months since she saw him. Seriously, Callie? What did you think: that a forty something year old man is gonna just wait around for six months for a girl he flirted with for two weeks?

Yes. Apparently the answer is yes. This is a spoiler, but one that you are going to expect if you’ve, like, ever read a book. He is feeling insecure, but still likes her and they end the book together in a completely bizarre and sudden coupling that feels jarring and inauthentic, but somehow sweet. 

Honestly, that’s the whole book. It never feels like it could be real, it’s not well written, but I just kept reading it and actually found it super pleasant. I have no idea how to rate it, but like I said, if you read it, you’ll probably be glad you did, but you aren’t missing anything incredible if you don’t. 

The Art of Getting Back Time Spent on Mediocre Books: My Review or The Art of Losing

Thank you to NetGalley and the publishers for the ARC of Lizzy Mason’s The Art of Losing that I was given in exchange for a fair and honest review.

I’m just going to say it: it’s been a good book year. I’ve thoroughly enjoyed the last dozen or so that I’ve read and I’ve been incredibly impressed by the willingness of the authors to build complicated, interesting characters and take on dark, innovative plot lines. I’ve read some books that I would call great and many, many that are solidly good.

So maybe The Art of Losing never had the same chance it would normally have. Maybe I’m comparing it to all those great books in my head. It’s not like I hated the book. It’s not even like I disliked it. It was easy to read and it entertained me all the way through. I felt like Harley was a decently well-developed character and there was something about her that compelled you forward in the text. Her voice was just engaging. 

To me, though, the rest of this book was just meh. I read a lot of other reviews that talked about the importance of this book and how it will stay with them and I couldn’t help but wonder... why? Is it just the subject matter? Yes, teenage alcoholism is real and relevant and a concern that we all should maybe talk about more. Yes, there are real risks and from a medical standpoint, those risks are handled well in The Art of Losing. Is that all it takes, though? A good topic that’s written about in a mediocre way? 

The only topic that is addressed in a way that felt valid and reflective was body image. I felt Harley’s self consciousness about what she perceived as her own imperfections. I felt every awkward lift of her shirt, the embarrassment about her legs, the pain in comparing herself to people thinner than her. That part resonated with me and I can see where it might be really nice for a young girl with similar insecurities to see how common her struggle really is.

The alcoholism..... SPOILERS.

What’s the message here? Harley can’t date one alcoholic, but she can date another? I get it, I get it. Raf is an appropriate partner because he has accepted he has a problem and wants to change. He is also kind. Mike is mean and doesn’t see her problem. Still, I really think what we have is a young girl who simultaneously has a savior complex and wants a savior and who is jumping from one codependent relationship to another. I don’t think it’s healthy and, while I don’t think a book needs to be a moral guideline (so it’s fine that the relationship is unhealthy as that’s reality sometimes) all the book really has going for it is its status as kind of a warning to the youths and it fails there. Ultimately, this is a meh book. There are a lot of books that address this same topic and do it much better. This one is fine and nothing more than fine.

3/5

Our Year of Reading This: a review of Rachel Lynn Solomon’s Our Year of Maybe

Thank you Net Galley for the ARC of what might be my new favorite book. I loved Rachel Lynn Solomon’s Our Year of Maybe.

I just want to dive right into the praising and say how impressed I am by how well this book accomplishes something really difficult: Our Year of Maybe features a protagonist with a chronic medical condition, but totally keeps that from being the central plot of the book. I know some will argue that it is a central part because without the illness, Peter’s indebted feelings towards Sophie wouldn’t exist. I get that, but I still argue that even then, the book isn’t about a kidney disorder or a transplant. Those things are mentioned, but this is not a sickness story. In fact, if a friend came up to me and said: “gee, Bib, what’s this book about?” I wouldn’t even mention Peter’s illness. My one sentence summary would be: a pair of teenagers who have spent much of their lives enmeshed with each other have to figure out whether their relationship can survive each one’s search for independence. 

And damn did this book deliver on showing that struggle. I have almost never read teenagers who were written so well. Peter and Sophie were neither giggly,  shallow, vapid vapors, nor were they the too smart for their own good, pretentious creatures that are so beloved these says (although Peter might be borderline). They’re real. They are immature and selfish while also shockingly insightful and complex. They are exasperating and exhilarating, frustrating and inspiring.  Sophie, to me, feels particularly real because teenage girls are so susceptible to defining themselves by their relationship to another person, whether that person is a significant other or best friend. I loved watching Sophie grow.

I’m not going to lie: Peter’s bisexuality was my favorite thing about him. I hate saying things like that because ideally sexuality is a meh type issue, but bisexuality is so often treated like the invisible step sister in young adult writing. A friend and I were talking about it recently and in all of fiction, we could only think of Callie from Grey’s Anatomy and Jack Harkness from Torchwood/Doctor Who we’re the only bi fictional characters we could think of (I know there are many more—like Leah—-but in that moment, that’s all we could come up with). To me, when there is such a huge absence, seeing more representation gives me all the feels. I won’t bore you with my “why representation matters” spiel, but it does.

All in all, read this. I can honestly say that I loved it. 5/5

Read This, Not That: Review of TJ Stimpson’s Picture of Innocence

As always, thank you to NetGalley for the ARC of this book, Picture of Innocence by TJ Stimson. 

I really liked this book, but there are some things that I think a reader should know even before they go forward in this review. In addition to the death of an infant, which is a main part of the plot, this book also deals with child abuse, both physical and sexual. It was very hard for me to read and I have never lost a child, so I can’t imagine how hard it would be for someone who has.

That being said, this was a great read. Don’t get me wrong, Maddie was sometimes hard to read and even after the ending, Lucas rubbed me the wrong way. I felt like Maddie was too quick to take the blame for everything and something about her inner weakness was very hard for me to vibe with. I wanted to shake her. Given everything she was dealing with, I’ll be the first person to say that’s probably an unfair reaction; if she was too resilient, it probably would’ve been unbelievable. Lucas seemed like a man’s version of what would be a woman’s ideal man versus what most women really want. Except for the couple times when Stimson was trying to mislead us about who Lucas was and what his character was (specific as I can be without giving spoilers), he just felt so flat, like a cardboard cut out of a man. 

Every other review I have read said that the reader was so shocked by the ending: I wasn’t. By the time I realized “Lydia” was a character who existed in both time streams, but under two different names, I guessed who she was. Ditto to the final twist. There were a LOT of clues and—no shade—it makes me wonder how closely people really read their books these days. Then again, I’ve been told repeatedly that I overthink, so maybe that’s my bad. 

The twist didn’t really matter to me, if I’m being honest. I guess this book ultimately has some elements that would categorize it as a thriller, but that’s not what the book is about. It’s about family, loss, grief, shame, the nature of evil and, ultimately, forgiveness. It’s a very human book that not only kept me turning pages, but kept me reading. This is another must read.

4/5

Review of Megan Abbott’s Give Me Your Hand

Big thanks to Net Galley and the publisher for my ARC of this book. It was absolutely awesome.



I have spent as much time as I can trying to formulate my thoughts on this book. I absolutely must talk about it now.

First, I’ll warn that it’s a bit of a slow burn and as someone who really really likes the action to start immediately, I get that that’s not everyone’s cup of tea. For me, I will say there was a lot of lag in the beginning where there wasn’t much happening and the main theme seemed to be jealousy. I was still here for it, because I could see it turning into commentary on internalized misogyny and women’s mistrust of other women, etc., but nah. It’s not about that.

It’s really about the connections women have to each other, even when they don’t know it. About how, even when you look at another chick and vehemently deny that you two could have anything in common, being women does connect us because there are some experiences that connect us.

I keep coming back to that word: connect.

Connections are a huge part of this book in basically every sense. Connections as in nepotism and favoritism style connections. Romantic connections. Family. Friendship. We get to see how incredibly complex all these relationships are but how, much like the human brain, each part is connected and works to make us function (or not).

Okay, I guess I’ve spent enough time on a kind of vague overview, so let me give you a more concrete look at the book: Give Me Your Hand (and I’m sorry it’s not italicized; for some strange reason my phone is not letting me select the title) is the story of two women, Kit and Diane, who share a strange kind of rivalry from childhood. It’s the kind of rivalry most people hope to  experience at some point in life: they are in competition with each other, but they initially bond over that competition and use it to make each other stronger rather than tearing each other apart. As the two girls grow closer, a Secret ultimately drives them apart while simultaneously connecting them in a way that will last for their lifetime.

Initially—actually for a lot of this book—I thought Kit was wrong not to trust Diane. I won’t go into more spoilers than that, but even after you read the “reveal” you won’t feel that differently about anything. It’s strange because the book is a thriller and there is a very tense, climactic scene... but somehow the climax isn’t the part that matters or sticks with you. It’s truly a book about how much women are cast aside and underestimated by others in their lives, even other women. There’s a constant devaluing that happens and it changes us, I think. Anti-feminist types, I can see your eyes glazing over, but pause: you’ll like it, too. Like I said, there’s a twist. There’s a climax. There are a dozen threads that all tie together at the end. But there’s also something deeper. There is an honest look at the complex lives of women. And, with the focus on the PPMD study, there is an honest look at the fear of female bodies, not just by men; but ourselves.

Last year, when teaching the movie Rosemary’s Baby, I was bringing in the reproductive element of the film when I found an article that argued that the central fear in Rosemary’s Baby is a fear of women’s bodies during pregnancy because of the mystery and power that comes from the changes required to create life. One of those changes is blood: “the blood is the life” as Dr. Severin would say. My husband has only told one joke through the years that made me cringe: “never trust something that bleeds for seven days and doesn’t die.” While this makes me literally want to vomit because of its misogyny, it holds a kind of truth that is constant in this book: men are terrified and angry when women are too powerful and the blood of menstruation.... it’s both an excuse and a reason to hate us.

Wow. I could really say a lot more about this, but you should do yourselves a favor and buy this book.
I loved this book. It’s definitely a must read. 5/5

Can You Keep a Secret? A Review of Karen M McManus’s Two Can Keep a Secret

Wowzers. What a book.

I want to start out by saying that I had my fingers super tightly crossed in hopes that I’d receive an ARC of Two Can Keep a Secret: I loved One of Us is Lying, so the idea of not having to wait to read Karen M. McManus’s next book was very exciting. When I got approved, I couldn’t wait to read this text, and I am so, so glad I got the chance. So thank you Net Galley for this thrilling ARC!

There is a lot going on in this book: absent parents, overall family disfunction, being the new kids, a teacher mysteriously killed in the opening.... a lot going on. At first, you kind of feel like it might be too much: how is this reasonably short YA book going to tackle all these themes and plot threads in this text? Well, it does. It’s a deeply satisfying book with a (sighhhhhhhh of delight) deeply satisfying ending. And I’m so glad because satisfying endings have really been missing from my life lately. 

Okay, so basically this is the book: Ellery and Ezra, fraternal twins, are sent to live with their grandma in their mom’s home town after their mom is sent to court ordered rehab; the night they arrive in their new town, they happen upon the town’s most popular teacher, killed by a hit and run. 

I will say the hit and run plot line is my least favorite because, while it is tied up eventually, it’s abandoned very early and not really mentioned. While I do get that this is addressed by the characters in the book and they discuss why it’s abandoned, it’s still lacks believability to me. Even after threatening messages show up throughout the town, I think a small town would still mourn/discuss/investigate the loss of a beloved teacher.

Don’t let that dissuade you from reading, though, because I think most things work. Ellery and Malcolm, a local teen, share the job of telling the story and both characters are likeable and have easy voices to read (even if Ellery does have that one annoying trait). My only complaint there is that, of the two twins, Ezra was much more interesting to me and I would have almost rather it be told from his perspective than Ellery’s, but I still think it was the right choice from a literary standpoint. Because of Ellery’s personality, her voice telling the story brings everything much more full circle.

Let me tell you about the ending without spoilers. Okay, I know I’ve touched on it already, but let me ask: any Gilmore Girls fans in the house? Remember all the build up over those “last four words?” And how disappointing they were? This book ends on a reveal and it’s not disappointing at all. It isn’t five words and they feels great to read. So read it!!

5/5

First and foremost, a huge thanks to Netgalley for the ARC of this breathtaking novel.

Warning: this book is not for the faint of heart. As a mom, certain parts of this book broke my heart and took me to dark places I really didn’t want to think about. I cried while my husband grabbed my Starbucks. I cried on the way back from Target. It really got inside my heart and made me feel more than I wanted to feel.

The premise of the book was such that I knew there’d be very little chance of mediocrity with this book: it would either be insightful and lovely or stupid and ridiculous. Luckily, I found it more the former than the latter.

There were things I didn’t like: I thought Astrid’s boyfriend was a bit terrible, going back and forth between controlling and selfish. Actually, you know what? That’s the only thing.

One thing I don’t tend to focus on tons that really stood out to me on Kate McGovern’s Fear of Missing Out was pacing. I liked the way things built in intensity and then slowed down as we waited at the end. I liked how McGovern wasn’t scared to steer the text away from our expectations as she reached the end. I miss won’t go into that more because there’s no way to really explore what I’m saying without giving spoilers and it’s not exactly what you’d call a plot twist, but things definitely don’t end the way you expect they will. The book, to some extent, reads in a way that has you believing there are two possibilities for the ending and the actual ending was a third option.

None of this would work without Astrid. I really liked Astrid and I don’t mean liked her as in thought she was cool  and would like to be friends with her. I mean she was a really great character. Her voice felt so authentic; she had the snark of a witty, bright girl, but without that unrealistic precocious tone that some writers give their teens. The perfect mix of bright, but also deliciously imperfect. Stubborn and impetuous, she’s the perfect girl for what feels more like a Bildungsroman than just another YA cancer story.

This is a beautiful read that will stay with me for a long while. Read it.

You Know You Want to Read This—Kristen Roupenian’s You Know You Want This

Thank you To Net Galley for the ARC of this fierce short story collection I was given in exchange for a fair and honest review.

The thing about short story collections—and I’m pretty sure I’ve said this before—is that the experience of reading one is similar to buying a new cd was in the 90s. There was at least one track you knew that had compelled you to buy the album (in this case “Cat Person” is the story equivalent of that track. After you experienced the whole, you’d find some tracks that were amazing, som that were okay, and usually several that you could skip forever. Kristen Roupenian’s You Know You Want  This  is no exception. Some stories—“Biter,” for example, really stood out as impressive, while others, like the much acclaimed “Cat Person,” actually, were less stellar.

Let’s talk about “Cat Person.” It’s basically out a college girl who dates a guy that she doesn’t really like, then does kind of like, then doesn’t like again. She is incredibly dishonest about her feelings and has horribly ugly thoughts about his age, body, etcetera and then, after he does nothing wrong and treats her pretty well, she ghosts him. Then, in the end, he is turned into a “nice guy syndrome” type who lashed out when he’s rejected. Let me say this: huge feminist over here, so I’m not trying to justify his abusive, slut shaming texts at the end of the story (at this point I’m not protecting against spoilers as this story was totally viral last year), but she is pretty awful to him. She just disappears when he hasn’t done anything wrong instead of talking to him about her feelings. It’s hard to root for this shallow girl. At the same time, you can’t conpletely rule out “Cat Person”  because even though the tone towards overweight people is pretty gross, the voice is authentic and the interaction at the end—a guy online suddenly lashing out after facing rejection—is incredibly relatable.

It’s kind of a shame because Roupenian handles the idea of the “nice guy” beautifully in other stories: “The Good Guy,” which tells the story of a classic nice guy who demeans women horribly while convinced he’s actually the ideal kind of guy, reads as so authentic it was almost painful. As a reader, watching Ted become more and more mysoginistic while still protesting that he was a decent, authentic man provided a lot of insight into the dangers of our toxically masculine culture. Poor Ted.

“Biter,” too, stood out as a really great story. It was the shortest in the collection, but despite its short length, it really packed a punched. The story of mild mannered and forgettable Ellie, “Biter” was a perfect display of the way people crave. I’m not going to lie, I was really rooting for her to give in to her desires far before she did.

All in all, this was a really great collection. Again, there were a few weak stories—I didn’t like “The Night Runner” at all—but I received my copy last night and have already finished it. The fact that I couldn’t stop feasting, binging, gorging on these stories says all that needs to be said.

3.5-4/5: Read This.

You Owe Me a Better Ending: My Review if You Owe Me a Murder by Eileen Cook

First, thank you Net Galley for the ARC of this book I was given in exchange for a fair and honest review.

So, it finally happened. I’ve started missing the protagonist you’re meant to hate trend. That’s largely because hating a protagonist is much better than having no feelings at all, especially when the reason is that the character is incredibly blah. It’s not that Kim, our main character, was stupid (she was) or hopelessly clingy (she was that, too); the problem with her character was that she simply wasn’t interesting. It wasn’t compelling to be inside her head; she wasted so much time being mopey over a boy she’d just met (right after the last guy she was hung up on had been murdered in front of her). And can I just say, I even kind of get that; I was boy crazy at her age. It’s just such a leap that she goes from being so hung up on Connor to being so Gaga over Alex that she can’t stop moping around even while trying to solve her problem.

Nicki is far more interesting, but even she is kind of cheated on the end. I won’t give a real spoiler because what’s the point in reading a review if you aren’t going to read the book, but I’m not really sure about how they reduce her whole story to a girl being salty over a guy. It’s a little insulting that the book boils down to two supposedly smart women being completely willing to implode their whole lies because what? They were scorned in love? Nope, not a fan.

I did like Alex, though. Yes, I get the slight irony of me being angry at these two characters for letting a boy be the center of their world when a boy was my favorite part of the book, but I can’t help it. He was so sweet and endearing....although his character, too, was flawed. There was all this commentary about him being a needy homeschooled boy and being so awkward, but he was actually a pretty smooth operator. He wooed Kim straight out the gate and always knew exactly what to say. It felt very much like that thing where people pretend to be geeks because geek is chic now and I’m not really here for it.

It kind of bums me out how easy the ending was because I think the concept was really cool. The idea that human beings can be capable of so much more ugliness than we give them credit for was one that could have been so much more flushed out if the characters were more compelling. They just didn’t Have the psychological depth for this storyline.



3/5 stars. Not a hard pass, but you could miss it.

ICYMI: Edward 2.0: My review of Jenny Han's To all the Boys I've Loved Before

I am so mad I used my Audible credit on this book.

Like  a lot of people are doing right now (according to Goodreads this is one of the most read books this week), I decided to read To all the Boys I've Loved Before after seeing the adorable, still recommended Netflix version of the film. After all, we all know the rule: if the movie is good, the book has to be better, right?

Not in this case.

First, the love story falls flat because the characters have little to know chemistry. Peter K. is dull, oafish, and frankly, pretty damn problematic. In fact, while reading this book and some of his expectations for Lara Jean, I was constantly reminded of Edward Cullen from Twilight and I wanted to scream: being controlled and bossed around my some douche hat is not romantic!

Let's start with the plot line because you will need to know it to get my rage: Lara Jean Covey is an intensely shy, naive high school Junior who quietly pines over boys by writing them love letters. One day, her younger sister gets mad and sends them all out, which leads to chaos. One of the "boys she loved" is her sister's ex-boyfriend and her neighbor, Josh. In order to distract him from the letter, she enters a fake dating plot with another letter recipient, the recently dumped-by-Genevieve: Peter K.

You needed to know all this because once the inevitable attraction sparks between Lara Jean and Peter K., Peter is constantly jealous and controlling of Lara Jean's relationship with Josh, even though the whole thing she was supposed to get out of the relationship with Peter was the ability to be friends with Josh (she wanted things to go back to normal after the weirdness). Meanwhile, when Lara Jean expresses her discomfort at his relationship with Genevieve (who he actively loves and admits to loving), she's basically told to suck it up. don't get me wrong, I think Peter's reaction is healthy: people should be able to continue friendships after breakups and partners should trust those friendships. What isn't cool is the double standard: Peter expects Lara Jean to avoid even the appearance of a close friendship to Josh, but tells her that Gen will "always be in {his} life."

Peter K. is also incredibly controlling of Lara Jean, mocking her taste, telling her how to wear her hair, not allowing her to skip events she doesn't want to go to. He doesn't care about her comfort and bullies her into doing things under the guise of trying new things, but when she wants to do something actually healthy, like drive, he is pretty quick to be put out because of how it will affect their arrangement. Lara Jean notes this when she is afraid to go on the ski trip with him because he "has a way of talking [her] into things [she] doesn't want to do." that's a pretty common theme: Lara Jean wasn't just chosen for their scheme because everything fell into place that way: Peter seems to really enjoy having a shy, [passive girl that he can manipulate into giving him his way.It's honestly pretty predatory.

the rest of my complaints are far less serious than the toxic nature of their relationship: Peter is boring, Margot is a stuck up hypocrite, the book is super sex-negative . . .

As a progressive chick in 2018, this book was just not my thing. Maybe it will be yours. If you like bland romantic comedies, this one's probably for you.

Folklore and Neuroticism: a Review of Little Darlings by Melanie Golding

Thank you to Net Galley for the ARC I was given of this thrilling book in exchange for my fair and honest review.

First, let me say that I’m a huge freaking fan of Lore. I’m not saying that guaranteed I would like this book or anything, but it definitely help because the little blurb was misleading. This book wasn’t inspired by fairy tales, it was inspired by folklore and if you’re anything like me, you want to draw little hearts on either side of that word. It helps, too, that the use of folklore was done in a really aesthetically pleasing way; not only was the book directly inspired by twin lore and lore about changelings, each chapter was marked with an epigraph from a fairy tale or folktale that marked the theme of the upcoming chapter. These were very well selected and just lovely.

The other thing you should probably know up front is that I suffered from some postpartum mental health issues, so this book had me on edge for about 90% of my reading. The way Lauren knew how illogical she sounded, even as she tried to convince those around her that she was perfectly sound, felt so authentic! Essentially, those two themes are what the book boiled down to: is folklore real (or at least, certain stories) or is the mother in the story suffering from postpartum psychosis after giving birth to twin boys? Reading as the answer began to (somewhat) emerge was intense because it constantly felt like there was a lot at stake, not just for our protagonist, but for the majority of the major characters of the book. The fact that so much is left up to the readers interpretation worked for me, too, because it really added to the feel that the book, despite its supernatural elements, was somehow very realistic.

The character development was pretty on point, too. You never quite knew how you felt about any specific character and sometimes you could like someone and hate them within a handful of pages. One thing never changed for me: I really disliked the protagonist. I'm okay with that: I don't need to like her. Lauren, to me, was hard to root for in many places because of her superficial, sniping inner monologue. She was constantly calling minor characters ugly or putting down their hygiene; it didn't detract too much from the overall readability of the book, but it did make me cringe  a little each time. If I actually have any readers who read my blog on a semi-regular basis, you know this has been a recurring theme for me lately, but it’s not my fault. They make the protagonist pretty horrible in the vast majority of books and movies. Lauren, wasn’t as bad as some, she was just shallow. I'm going to put shallow in the meh category when comparing it to what else is out there in terms of horrible characters lately.

When looking for an image to attach to this blog post, one had a blurb across the cover: Most unsettling book of the year! You know what? that's pretty accurate. This book was unsettling because there was such a feeling of ambivalence. I can't go into that without revealing more than I want to give away, but the thing that makes this book work is right up until the end, you just aren't sure what the right choice is for our girl Lauren. This is truly a must read.

A Twist You Can't Miss: Review of Kate A.Boorman's What We Buried

Thanks to Net Galley for the ARC I was given in exchange for my honest review! This book was a real pleasure to read. 

What We Buried by Kate A. Boorman started off promising: the premise was that the parents of a surly young man and vapid young beauty pageant contestant vanish right before the judgement comes in on the case Liv (beauty queen) filed against them. What follows is the harrowing journey the two siblings must share to find their parents and the discovery of something far more valuable.

I'm going yo do this  a little backwards and start with the ending (no spoilers, don't worry). I promise neither of the two things I am about to say are humble brags, they're just true: I read a lot and endings almost never surprise me anymore. Seriously, I don't even remember the last time I didn't see an ending coming . . . until 11pm last night when I finished this book. The ending was a total surprise to me because, even though I had the thought a few times that I knew where it was going, Boorman totally lured we away with faux breadcrumbs so that I was on a different trail. I just don't want to undersell how much I appreciated that: there was surprise at the end of a novel! That being said, I do have a gripe about the ending: the pacing is not great. Throughout the book I felt the pacing was expertly handled: the story never lagged, but it never felt rushed. Then we have the ending and yeah, it needed to slow down. At certain points, I was really confused and listen--I'm a careful reader. I don't race through and skim. I had to reread the last ten pages immediately after I finished because I wasn't sure what was actually happening.

I want to talk a little about Jory and Liv now. They are siblings that both harbor some resentment, although Jory's is more for Liv and their dad while Liv's resentment is more aimed at their mother. It's a smart book in terms of the way the resentment is addressed: the reasons why each feels hurt are complex enough that you never completely despise either sibling, but you do occasionally want to shake both of them. The parents, though, are horribly superficial people who undermine both children's sense of worth: because Jory has Moebius  Syndrome, he is treated like he has little valuable while Liv is treated like her only worth is totally conditional upon her ability to win. "Beauty is her talent," as she is told by her awful, awful mother.

Speaking of the awful, awful mother, I didn't feel that the parents were as developed as they could be. I'm not saying I need a sobbing backstory that justifies their cruelty, but something deeper than what we are shown would have been nice. Right now, both parents are pretty much caricatures: pageant mom caricature and alcoholic dad caricature. They could really just be cardboard cutouts of people and some sense that they were ever, even for a day, happy would have gone really far in making the story a bit more complicated. Still, the real story is Jory and Liv, Liv and Jory, and they are handled well.

This book really flew by. Last night as I was finishing it, there were several times when I thought I should probably put it down and read more today, but I just couldn't I had to finish. And look, I have three kids, so I value sleep: that tells you what you need to know. This isn't a perfect book, but I would definitely call it a must read. 

Review of Text me when you Get Home by Kayleen Schaefer

Thank you to Net Galley for the ARC of this book given in exchange for a fair and honest review!

After reading Kayleen Schaefer's Text Me When You Get Home, I really rethought my own relationship to other women.  While I am more of  Schaefer's generation, I found that I'm really more like her mom; as a mother of three kiddos, I don't have as much time to really invest in my personal friendships and the one I do invest it tend to be the ones with easy connections: kids the same age, work together so that there are obvious time we can talk, etc. If it becomes too hard to maintain the friendship or it takes to much time from my household, I'm not that interested.

Schaefer's book is a mixture of friendship memoir and sociological commentary. It looks at the way female friendships have evolved over time and the way media has reflected that change--or, in many cases, not reflected that change. It's true still that television loves a catfight between girls. I grew up in the height of celebreality and my entertaining moments were definitely comprised of the LC/Kristen Cavallari conflicts and the New York/Pumpkin spat. NewYork, in particular, made such a career of her fighting with other women that she's still immortalized in memes almost (or more than?) a decade later. It seems like women were always being pitted against each other for fun or, most commonly, for the love and affection of a guy.

Despite the media representation, it seems like women's friendships stay pretty powerful things; I see it played out over and over on my social media timelines where women share affection and praise each other for what they bring to their friendships. They welcome each other's babies to the world and share in each other's biggest moments, get each other through the hard parts, and have fun together. Yet Shaefer makes an excellent point: their relationships to each other are not prioritized or given the same respect as familial/marital relationships. Why not? Why are women being put in positions where they have to justify who is meaningful in their lives?

This book was a great overview of female friendship and very enlightening to read. I learned a lot from it and have really decided to spend more time nurturing my relationships with other women. I'm also buying my own BFF her own copy for Galentine's Day this very year.

3.5/5