Review: Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine

I originally started reading this book because it had been chosen by my national sorority organization as a book club pick.... for the month of January. 

The idea that Sigma Kappas all over the world would be reading this book at the same time as me made it an alluring choice, which is probably why there were holds placed on it so heavily at my local library, that I wasn't able to pick it up until long after everyone else had finished reading it, on February 1st. Darn it!

Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine, by Gail Honeyman, starts out with an assertion that is quickly proven to be anything but true. Eleanor Oliphant has been at the same desk job since she was 21, but does not feel the need to interact with her peers or move upwards on the company ladder at all. She abides by a strict schedule, which includes thrifty and solitary lunches, drinking vodka alone on weekends, and dreading the Wednesday night contact from her distant and controlling mother. And Eleanor would be more than content to lead that life for a long time... until an unexpected encounter involving a man from work, and an elderly man collapsing on a crosswalk, shows that life can be just as fine when lived with other people.

Enrapturing and enigmatic, I adored this book, despite not having any sort of anticipation of enjoying it built up beforehand. It's not that I don't like books chosen for me by other people, it's that I don't have exactly high estimations of book club books, especially when they're titles I've never heard of before, and doubly so when the blurb for it gives no hints as to what kind of story lies inside. In my opinion, neither the cover excerpts nor the front cover illustrations itself are all that indicative of the actual plot... the UK version does fare a little better, but I honestly don't believe you know what you're getting into until you read the first few pages. 

To be clear from the start, this rating is a high-ranking four, that is almost a five, because while I truly enjoyed this book and really found it enrapturing not just for its sense of mystery, but also the sense of empathy the narrative was able to elicit, it was just a little hard for me to read sometimes. That's probably why it took me a little over a week to finish reading it, even though every time I sat down to read it, I had a great time!

The book is fantastic at maintaining a sense of privacy and internality, while also building suspense and an aura of mystery around the main character... it's not easy to spend the whole narrative in the head of the lead, while still discovering things about her throughout the whole novel! While I think it's a bit of a stereotype for English majors to enjoy reading things with unreliable narrators, there's this unique sense about Eleanor that she's not trying to deliberately hide or obscure anything, it's that there's so much she's not willing to accept. You can maintain empathy and a sense of introversion with the narration, while also understanding that you are limited by Eleanor's own lack of understanding.

It's that kind of balance between self-effacing objectivity - from the somewhat silly, like how our main character doesn't know what Spongebob Squarepants or a bikini wax is, to greater patterns of not understanding most normal cues of social interaction - and a deep sense of personal incomprehension that perform a delicate balancing act in keeping the narrative going. Eleanor doesn't know much about the world, but she doesn't know much about herself either, despite carrying on with a self-assured confidence that can't help but serve as an ironic point of humor.

In some ways, that's what made the book difficult to read. Reading people make inappropriate comments or behave improperly in social situations is always a turn-off for me... it's one of the reasons why I hated my family's fixation with The Office when I was younger: that kind of humor just isn't funny. It's painful. However, it wasn't just that it was supposed to be funny that Eleanor found herself in these kinds of situations... it was to demonstrate a significant point of discrepancy between Eleanor's ability to operate as a person in the world, against her perceived ability to occupy it.

The novel deals with depression and PTSD in a frank and open way that I think is not only highly commendable, but incredibly well-informed. The depictions of casual alcoholism hit uncomfortably close for someone who also has a strained relationship with drinking. Both brought me to tears more than once, and by the end, got me actively begging out loud for Eleanor to go get some help. It wasn't just because anyone could recognize that she had problems... it was that you really wanted her to get better. You can't help - despite all of her intensely awkward mannerisms - but really love her by the end of the book.

Side note: I was absolutely terrified it was going to turn into a romance - especially due to the book's packaging - and felt absolutely vindicated when it did not. Sorry if that's a spoiler, but if you're someone like me, maybe it will convince you to give this book a chance.

Especially because I almost didn't! Like I mentioned at the start of the review, I think it has a horrendously ugly cover - if you're buying the US edition - and not the most inspiring blurb on the back. That's not the story's fault, though... you really can't get a sense of the book without peeking inside it. (Just like with Eleanor, herself!) Give it a few pages, and then make up your mind. Though I will tell you, I hope you read it.

Final Verdict: An unexpected favorite, with a unique main character and sense of deep emotional connection. If I had to choose two words to describe it, I would say "humorous" and "heroic"... not only is the book quite light-hearted in most places, but its main character is both endearing beyond her foibles, as well as uniquely strong and resilient in her own right.

Have you ever been a part of a book club? What's been a recent unexpected favorite of yours? Let me know, in the comments below!

Review: American Gods

Vacations are the perfect place to get some heavy reading done: with an absence of any work (or homework) standing in your path, it's one of my favorite opportunities to really take a swing at some of the titles I've been holding off on my TBR list. Hence, why I made sure to pack this title in my suitcase as we headed down on our annual trip to Oregon! 

American Gods, by Neil Gaiman, follows the story of Shadow, a recent felon, released from jail, and greeted by the crippling news of his wife's death. While traveling home for her funeral, an enigmatic plane seatmate - dubbing himself Mr. Wednesday - enlists Shadow to be a part of a mysterious enterprise, tracking down ancient gods and goddesses across the United States in a final standoff against the new crowd: the burgeoning mythical brethren who guide the ideals of America today. With war on the horizon, Shadow begins to understand that the forces at play are far more powerful than he could have ever imagined... and that he, himself, could tip the balance of the world as we know it.

Okay, all hype aside - because if you're a fan of fantasy, you're sure to not just recognize this title, but the name of its prolific author - this book was awesome. Amazingly inventive, with an enthralling concept that allowed for the creation of an entire world, I was left astounded by creative characterizations, surprising plot twists, and a new paradigm with which to view the "melting pot" origins of the country.

In terms of the foundation of the story, with the idea of gods and goddesses living and walking among us, it's easy to draw comparisons, be it to a grown-up Percy Jackson, or that one Joan Osborne song. However, the ways that Gaiman classifies and explains their presence in contemporary culture make it inherently unique, as well as set up a comprehensive universe within which such powerful beings can exist alongside things we interact with every day.

One particular view that you can't necessarily get from Rick Riordan, is that the novel makes no exceptions for the more gruesome points of religion. Sacrifice, bloody and human, plays a part in too many theological contexts to go unrepresented; almighty power comes alongside a serious amount of gore. Sexual activity has always been a hallmark of ancient religion as well (ahem, Zeus), and makes its appearances within the narrative, too. While the explicit/graphic nature of some of these elements might throw some readers off, I seriously respect its inclusion, if only to remind you of the fact that religion has always been a bloody practice.

Something else I really loved about the novel was the absolutely monochrome nature of the characters: almost everyone in this novel is gray in at least one fashion. While I really liked and respected Shadow as a main character, even he had a lot of darkness to his framing, and no allowances were given in order to make individuals more or less redeemable. That way, even with the extraordinary nature of the powers at play, gods were made mortal... or, at least, humanized.

And on another side of cultural implications, I felt like the novel offered a fascinating perspective of America's consciously collaborative status: we are a nation of many peoples, and believe in a lot of different things, so to have everything from Norse to Native to many more creeds and cultures, interacting and jockeying for position and power, was pretty terrific. While it was fun to call out characters I recognized from a childhood spent devouring myths and folklore - Anansi! Kali! Loki! - it was just as much so to meet the gods of our new culture, like Media, hair-sprayed and shiny-teethed, or Technical Boy, a stylized wiz-kid who smells like burnt circuits.

Despite its 600+ pages, I zoomed through the novel. Partially, I chalk it up to interest, because once I started reading, it's all I wanted to do, but I also have to factor in language, because the more formalist elements of the novel, like diction, were still really accessible. Keeping the reading easy was only a benefit to the topic, by making imaginative and large-scoped concepts more approachable.

Final Verdict: In case you couldn't tell from my review, I really, really loved this novel. Total five stars, even if there were parts that I thought were a little squirmy. I don't have a subscription to Starz, but I feel like I'm going to have to get one, just to see how the new TV adaptation is going to play out!

It was only after I finished American Gods that my younger sister, Delaney, realized that Gaiman also wrote Stardust and Coraline! What's your favorite of his works? Let me know, in the comments below!

Bits of Books: Callie is a Godsend and Lends Me Stuff

It's definitely not the first time I've mentioned Callie - my onetime Student Calling Center manager and current favorite book lending person I know - and it's certainly not going to be the last: Out of the eleven books I've read so far this summer, three of them are the result of a very generous book swap, courtesy of her! 

Subsequent to giggling our way through the newest Jane Austen adaptation Love & Friendship last month, we swung by her house, and after a very cute room tour, she loaded me up with three titles I'd not yet read, and sent me on my merry way. Being that we're trying to get together for coffee on Friday morning, I figured that it was a good enough time to finally upload all my impressions of those books she lent: A Court of Mist and Fury, East, and Rebel Belle! 

a court of mist and fury, sj maas

The sequel to Maas' A Court of Thorns and Roses, the story follows Feyre adapting to her new life as a member of the High Fae. Unable to cope with what had befallen her Under the Mountain, nor feeling as connected to the Spring Court as she once had, Feyre begins to discover the truth about her newfound powers, though it may require Rhysand, High Lord of Night Court, to help her really harness them. 

Callie originally proposed this read to me in our English class this past Spring Quarter, with the tagline, "It's so much better than the first one!" She and I had both read the original, and found it to be severely lacking on a pretty spectacular scale, so the fact that she braved it and committed to reading the second one was really enough for me to do the same. And, of course, she was right. 

Almost all of the problems I had with the original were remediated and resolved in the sequel... originally fractional world-building got a massive expansion as Feyre visited some of the other Courts, underdeveloped characters got the in-depth treatment with more involved relationships and backstories, and an uninspiring cast got an exciting update via some of the newest perspectives on the Night Court. It's impossible to list all of the reasons this book was such a dramatic improvement without spoiling the whole thing, but damn. Thank goodness for Callie's stubborn need to follow through with a series.

east, edith pattou

Despite her superstitious mother's attempts to conceal the truth of her birth, Rose has always been the adventurous and troublesome type. However, even she couldn't predict the sudden trouble  of a giant white bear showing up on their doorstep, promising to save her sister and recover the family from ruin, only if Rose should come with him. What she finds through her journeys shows her there's more to the world than what's covered on her father's maps, and magic is more than possible.

Basically, it's a like a Norwegian variation on the Beauty and the Beast story, utilizing aspects of that particular country's fairy tales, while also exploring various aspects of other parts of Europe. For Callie, this book was one of her middle grade favorites - enough to still keep it on her collegiate bookshelves - and fed into a deep love of fairy tales from all over the world. Being that the latter is one of the many things we have in common, I was excited to explore this read.

The book is truly based off the tale "East of the Sun, West of the Moon," a Norwegian fairy tale that does bear great resemblance to both the Cupid and Psyche mythology and the best Disney animated movie of my youth. In terms of adaptations of classic stories that still manage to differentiate themselves from the original mythology, this is an incredibly effective variation on the  narrative, with unique cultural differences providing for new opportunities to build out the story even further. While retellings can often be a miss for me - I still feel like I'm one of the only book bloggers who really doesn't like Tiger Lily - this was incredibly unique to the genre, and I think that has a lot to do with its heritage. 

rebel belle, rachel hawkins

After high school wunderkind - head cheerleader, ASB president, Homecoming Queen, debutante, and more - Harper Price encounters a strange fight between two teachers in the school bathroom, she finds herself wielding more power than just what the high school social strata would normally allow. Able to perform martial arts and exert a strength she's never had before, she finds herself taking on the additional role of "paladin" beyond her extensive after-school schedule... tasked with protecting the "oracle:" her high school nemesis, David Stark.

I typically scoff at contemporaries, and Callie knows as much, but it didn't stop her from attempting to get me to read this book. While I initially demurred, and left it to the end of the list for my planned reads, I eventually gave in, knowing that it would only be an afternoon's work to finish and would help bump up my Goodreads Challenge tally.

I was right: it was an enjoyable afternoon's read, one that had me laughing at the right moments and left me engrossed in the action when I needed to be. While some parts were a little cringe-y - I would pay YA contemporary authors not to try and describe fashion - they were easy to ignore once you'd figured out that the entire novel is basically a variation on some kind of Buffy the Vampire Slayer episode. Not that bad... though Callie has warned me against continuing farther in the series, being that the sequel's not that good, either. All in all, it was exactly what I had expected it to be.



So there you have it! Thank you to Callie for letting me borrow her books; I took care of them just like I said. Maybe I'll have to do another post once she finishes up the novels I'm lending to her on Friday: John Connolly's The Book of Lost Things, Steve Augarde's The Various, and Naomi Novik's Uprooted!

Do you have a book lending habit? Have you read any of the books mentioned? Let me know, in the comments below!

Review: The Rest of Us Just Live Here

YA has enough Chosen Ones, Saviors, One-True-Whatevers, and more. Enough with the sixteen-year-olds who are trying to unite the realms, free the oppressed, and defeat the Big Bads... what about the ones who just want to graduate high school without experiencing a vampire invasion? 

That is the inspiration behind The Rest of Us Just Live Here, by Patrick Ness, which follows the lives of Mikey - an anxiety-ridden, emotionally-tortured eighteen-year-old - and his friends through a rough and tumble Senior Spring, complete with zombie deer, deadly explosions at boy band concerts, and, of course, trying to get a couple good AP grades along the way.

As soon as I heard the premise, I was hooked, especially as someone who related far more to the Xanders of the world than the Buffys. It's not easy always living between pages where protagonists are all not-so-relatable redheads with superfluous superpowers, or the sons and daughters of better-behaved demigods than their literature would suggest, or kids who can get away with wiping out half a city while still maintaining the moral grounds of "We did the right thing." Not everyone has superpowers, not everyone knows what the "right thing" really is, and not everyone has the power to chase Fate beyond taking it one day at a time... especially in such a fraught environment as senior year high school.

So, with all those great expectations in mind, I set out to read, and quickly found that the novel was not what I expected. If anything, there was even more teenage angst and drama than you'd find in Dystopian or Fantasy YA, displaced into a Contemporary setting, and it was almost as if it was trying desperately to be relatable by giving characters unnecessary quirks or backgrounds that didn't quite fit the bill.

The relations between our gym class strike-outs with the "indie kids" - those who are destined to save the school, kiss the girl, whatever - were hilarious, but it still would have been better if our protagonists were more relatable. Despite the fact that we were constantly reminded they were the "normal" ones, they were still sto distant from what normal high schoolers are that the culture divide wasn't disparate enough.

The plot itself was fairly conventional, and followed where you expected it would, which would contribute to the idea of Mikey and his gang being the "normal" ones. However, there was also a lot of unnecessary drama thrown in at the end for no reason, in an attempt to make the book end with a (literal) bang. To be honest, the most surprising thing I enjoyed about this novel, was looking for the source of the glowing on my bedside table in the middle of the night, and finding out that it was the characters on the cover (I'm a sucker for good interactive cover marketing).

I would still probably recommend the book for its understated depiction of the normalcies of therapy and medication. These kids aren't exactly totally relatable, but the stressors and coping mechanisms they interact with are the same as those that kids do today, and in that way, they're accurate reflections of a teenage mindscape.

Final Verdict: While I didn't really enjoy the book itself, it did make me think, and it was a good break from the unshakably brave heroes and stubbornly idealistic heroines of other parts of today's YA atmosphere. And, like I said, the cover was pretty darn cool.

Have you read The Rest of Us Just Live Here? Do you think we need more relatable heroes in YA? Let me know, in the comments below! 

Bits of Books: The Ones With Long Titles

While school is picking up in sheer volume of assigned material, and my planner finds itself jammed to the spiral binding everyday with new tasks and to-dos, I'm finding less and less time for pleasure reading (which makes the copy of A Court of Thorns and Roses, by S.J. Maas, sitting on my bedside table, a very special kind of torture).

Still, after taking a cursory glance at my Goodreads Reading Challenge for 2015 - on track, for now! - I realized there were a lot of books that I read towards the end of the summer, that never got a write up on the blog! Usually, I'd go more in-depth with my reviews, but because I've already read them some time ago, I feel like it would be better just to gloss over them a little bit, and move on from there. Hopefully soon enough, I'll have plenty of new reviews to post!

Key word being "hopefully."

The Darkest Part of the Forest, by Holly Black 
One of my managers at my work happens to be a voracious YA fan, just like me, and it's pretty stinking perfect that we managed to find each other like this. She was the one who lent me Red Queen, and currently, I've lent her my copy of The Wrath and the Dawn, in exchange for the previously mentioned ACoTaR copy. She convinced me to read this book, too!

It reminded me a little of Wildwood, but in choice of topic and setting, mostly: Holly Black leans more dark and gritty, and a lot less whimsical. Sure, it was still sarcastic and funny, but TDPotF brought more of the creepiness and high stakes that I love, and reminded me maybe more of The Various than your typical contemporary-set fairy story. In fact, the book hearkened back to some of the middle grade material I had grown up on, and gave me quite a bit of a Spiderwick vibe... until I realized that, duh, Holly Black was one of the authors of The Spiderwick Chronicles!

All in all, tremendous world-building, and a fun and fast-paced story, with just enough danger and suspense thrown in to keep the reader on their toes. Plus, bonus points for LGBT representation and diversity in a YA novel, and who doesn't like a little bit of romance, just for good measure?


To All the Boys I've Loved Before, by Jenny Han 
I'm going to start out this summary of a much-hyped, very popular contemporary novel with the disclaimer that I don't read contemporary. It's kind of a miracle to get me to that section of the library in the first place. And yet, I made it there for this book.

It's because Jenny Han was one of the authors of the Burn for Burn series, which I immensely enjoyed. And it honestly had nothing to do with the plot summary, or any of the recommendations of my peers... it was the cover. The cover was SO pretty, and the author name was enough to suck me in past the promise pink-lined world of contemporary teen romances.

I didn't like this book, but I tried really hard to, and I finished the whole thing, and even got halfway into it's sequel before I DNF'd. The actions of the main characters just weren't realistic at all, and the idyllic teen utopia they lived in was too much of an emotional disconnect for me to overcome. There's just no way I could keep reading it and find it was a believable world, because everything about it was at least a little contrived and cliche.

Still, if I saw another Jenny Han title one of these days, I'd probably pick it up.

You're Never Weird on the Internet, by Felicia Day 
My little nerd heart fluttered in my chest the day I found out Felicia Day was releasing an autobiography. I've been a huge fan of her work since I first saw Dr. Horrible's Sing Along Blog, and then died again when I watched all of The Guild in one week (yay, Finals). I knew I'd be crazy in love with this book before I ever even read a blurb or excerpt, and was crushed when I saw that it wouldn't be released until after my Blog Birthday, so I couldn't buy it myself. Luckily, my Dad's as big of a nerd as I am, and he not only bought a copy the day it came out, but let me read it first, too.

And I was not disappointed. I knew it would be crazy wonderful, but had no idea how crazy relatable it would be, too! As it turns out, yes, Felicia is prodigious at basically everything, and is way too smart for me in a whole lot of ways, but she also is a ball of anxiety, a serial procrastinator, a self-doubter, and more. We even have the same dream superpower (being able to speak every language), and an affinity for the song "One Night in Bangkok."

Basically, this book was my grown-up, geeky version of a Tiger Beat interview, and I was very content to read about the life of one of my fave celeb girl heroes.

So, while these titles haven't been read really recently, they're obviously still pretty fresh on my brain. What have you been reading? Let me know, in the comments below!

Review: Simon vs. the Homosapiens Agenda

Real talk: I'll do my best impression of a car salesman to get you to read this book. I swear it will make you smile (the novel, I mean... the impression's kind of hokey). 

Simon vs. The Homo Sapiens Agenda, by Becky Albertalli, follows the story of Simon, a teenage boy who, after accidentally leaving his email open in the library, is blackmailed into helping one of his classmates land a date with his friend Abby. At stake: the threat of revealing both Simon's closeted sexuality, as well as compromising the identity of his penpal - and massive crush - Blue.

This novel was one of those I was most looking forward to checking out from the library... I even renewed a library card to a branch that is 45 minutes away from where I'm living now, to get at it without bearing through a heinous list of placeholders.

Then, once I got my hands on my library copy, I read it in one sitting. About 75% through, I looked up, and saw the clock had just started to turn the edge of 1:00AM. I just snuggled further down in my bed and kept at it.

To be honest, here's the long and short of my opinion of it: despite the heavy subjects handled within its covers, it's a big ol' happy, squishy, smiley fluffernutter of a novel. There are stakes involved, and you feel Simon's pain in a lot of it, but thankfully, they didn't make things as dangerous as they could have been, widely thanks to the more tolerant cultural settings we have nowadays, when it comes to making something a contemporary teen novel that handles sexuality. But trust me, this book will make you smile like an idiot.

Not to mention I got a massive craving for Oreos the entire time I was reading it. (This led to an unfortunate discovery: there is such thing, in fact, as too much of a good thing, and that thing is Mega-Stuf Oreos.)

To tell you the truth, one of the reasons I wanted to read this book, was because how vehemently it was hyped by Margot over at Epic Reads. Then again, it was also hyped on every list I saw during Pride Week, and accompanied by several adorable "Love Wins" hashtags the day of the Supreme Court ruling. When it comes to being even-handed and well-reflective of the realities of contemporary gay teens in America, I'm not the only one who thinks this title fits the bill.

Not only is Simon a fully formed character - and an absolute idiot, sometimes -  but so are his friends. I was so pleased to see this kind of book treated not in caricature, but with well-rounded and culturally-reflective characters, taking on the problems that still face LGBTQ teens today.

Being gay serves as the primary focus of the romance, as does Simon's blackmail at the hands of a fellow teen, but while the subjects are heavy, they are treated with the respect they deserve, alongside a sarcastic, tongue-in-cheek sense of humor that retains Simon's sense of reality and humanity. While diversity in YA is really stepping up their game these days, and it's amazing to see sexual orientation being handled, it's not his being gay that makes you want to read it, but who he is... and he is adorkably awesome.

I want so many people to read this book. In fact, I immediately thought of several people to rec it to while reading... I even sent my sister snapshots of pages of the book I thought she'd like (primarily because they directly reference Drarry fanfiction within the first 100 pages).

And, you know, it's just frickin' adorable. Seriously.

Final Verdict: Read this book in one sitting, like I did, while making yourself sick on Oreos. But don't worry: even if you don't have the opportunity to supply yourself with the appropriate snackage, this book is plenty sweet reading enough.

Review: 99 Days

It's one thing to have a character make a bad decision that sets in motion the string of events that leads the plot of the novel. It's another thing to have a character who leads the narration through deliberately antagonistic choices. And it's quite another to have a lead like this... 

99 Days, by Katie Cotugno, tells the story of Molly, who returns after a year hiding away at boarding school, to find that the reverberations of one bad decision are still being felt throughout her sleepy home town. From her ex-boyfriend Patrick - the boy she cheated on - to his older brother, Gabe - the boy she cheated on him with - it seems like everywhere she turns, there's yet another reminder of the past she tried so hard to leave behind. However, it seems like Gabe might just be willing to take the chance to make things right. Can one summer really change everything?

The premise intrigued me. Going into it, I was kind of rationalizing with myself, this is going to be a book about redemption, and this is how Molly turns things around. Everyone loves a good comeback story, right?

It all comes down to whether you can effectively make the actions of the character - no matter how bad they were - understandable to the reader. In that case, 99 Days is a success, because it does a good job at weaving the complexities of the relationships Molly has with both Gabe and Patrick, as well as their sister, Julia, and her own mother, into an organic environment that could have lead to the jaw-droppingly awful environment she lives in.

However, that still didn't make it good enough. It wasn't just that Molly made one bad decision... there were things she did as a character that made me grind my teeth and flinch. Bad, Molly! I have a seriously hard time thinking anyone could think a character like this was realistic, because I've never met anyone who makes this level of terrible decisions in my life.

The writing style was fairly general for YA contemporary. so that wasn't much of a redeeming factor. The characters were fairly well flushed-out, but then again, that was kind of one of the problems, wasn't it?

And final nail in the coffin, the ending was also a little too ambiguous for my taste, and it ended in such a way that I didn't feel like any of the characters were either redeemed or had learned anything. But hey, at least I finished it, right?

Final Verdict: This study in moral relativity wasn't exactly a great read, but from a technical standpoint, it was fairly well-written, aside from the lackluster ending. Maybe pass on this one, and find yourself a better summer read in Dessen.

Review: Fight Club

It's like a car accident... an absolutely horrific, brutal reminder of your own mortal state, but there's no way you could think of looking away. Here's why this iconic novel made its way onto my TBR for 2015.

Fight Club, by Chuck Palahniuk, follows the story of a generic worker bee narrator, as he falls under the sway of Tyler Durden, a charismatic and damaged young man with a plan for the future, and a new kind of club, holding secret boxing matches in the basements of bars. This direct violence gives way to greater machinations of destruction, spiraling outwards until it effects way more than just some beat-up guys after work. Soon, our narrator is forced to confront the question, who is Tyler Durden, anyways? 

This prose was fantastic... I'm such a sucker for the stream of consciousness style, and this is probably one of the best examples I could draw from what I've read in recent years of it being really well-done. And the characterizations of every player in it was incredibly unique, too. I don't know if I've ever seen that many incredibly flawed, damaged and dangerous people gathered into one motley crew of a cast before.

To be honest, the first thing I did after I finished it was text my Dad, which just kind of seemed like the appropriate thing to do. Like, everyone's got to read Fight Club at some point? There are a couple of girls in my sorority, particularly my friend Taylor, who've been hounding me to read this guy's work basically since we found out we both like reading... isn't this some kind of social touchstone or something, regardless of age, gender, etc.?

The problem was, there were parts of it that were a little too gendered-out for me to fully appreciate the work as a whole. A part of those texts to my Dad, simply as a knee-jerk reaction to turning the last page of the paperback, was "This is why idiot suburban emo boys threaten to blow up their high schools." For the most part, it came off of as a big round of chest-beating, caveman chanting, which, yes, I get was a part of its satirical bent. Chances are, if something's being blown out of proportion, it's satire, but that didn't make it any less uncomfortable. I just couldn't take the testosterone... and you'd think that people who wanted anarchy so badly would have stopped making up so many damn rules.

It's definitely a novel of juxtapositions. There's all this despicable violence and grime and grit to it, so that you know you should turn away, but that's also what makes it so enthralling and un-put-down-able. Its violent take down of "special snowflake" ideology is brutally anti-individualistic, but almost every Tumblr kid I can think of has read, and loved, it, too. There's a fierce struggle in both the novel and its audience, brilliantly assimilated into the characterizations of its two male leads (*wink wink, nudge nudge*). So it's really no surprise that I'm so torn.

Final Verdict: At the very least, Fight Club should be required reading, because of its impeccable craftsmanship. Any additional ideas about its ideology you formulate yourself, you can go over with your therapist.

Review: Love Letters to the Dead

Can a recommendation from a non-blogger or YA amateur really yield effective and enthralling bookish results? Or will it be just another dud doorstop in the teen contemporary stack? 

It's always interesting to see recommendations from people who don't specialize in reading YA books. Doing so can yield fairly varying results: they'll say, "it's pretty good for its type," which means nothing, or they'll say, "It's a great guilty read!" in which case I'll most likely love it, but it is in no way a really great book. There are very few that truly mean they love a book when they say they don't usually love YA... and those few are usually indoctrinated John Green followers (God love you people, but damn).

But here's the part where I haven't learned my lesson yet: I thought I could trust Emma Watson's judgement when she tweeted about how much she enjoyed the novel Love Letters to the Dead, by Ava Dellaira, because she does actually have some experience in the field, having starred in notable teen hipster fave, Perks of Being a Wallflower. Additionally, since that same sense of approval was corroborated by some of my favorite book blogs, I even managed to put aside my natural tendency to stay as far away from contemporary as possible.

Unfortunately, I was disappointed, again. Darn it.

Love Letters to the Dead details the life Laurel, a teen girl on a new path after her sister's untimely death makes things too complicated at her old school. Told in an epistolary format, through the letters she writes to dead celebrities like Kurt Cobain, Amy Winehouse, and Amelia Earhart, the novel explores themes of self-discovery, young love, and coming to terms with grief, all leading to the grand revelation that Laurel might be keeping secrets even from the letters she can never send.

I'll shoot it to you straight: LLttD was the same kind of overly-saccharine, dramatized teen novel that I've come to associate with everything annoying about the teen contemporary genre. The narrator's seemingly relatable tone, is completely displaced with terrifyingly possible teenage experiences, that instead of granting the dignities those realities deserved, lost all nuance through their Lifetime Original Movie treatment.

Exploration of sexuality, sexual abuse, divorce, first loves and first times, romanticized alcoholism, death and grieving, drug use... pick one. Or two. At least not all of them. Every single one of these topics - some tropes, some too real, some which need to be explored in the contemporary genre further - were fit in to the novel at the severe expense of its reality.

Because of the somewhat direct approach to all this heavy subject matter, I wasn't surprised to see that one of the first names listed on the acknowledgement page, also highlighted in a blurb on the cover, was Stephen Chbosky himself. The things is, Perks of Being a Wallflower contains much of a similar tone to LLttD, but excels far better in the execution, because he chooses to focus more strongly on the voice of the narrator than the story the character is supposed to be telling, which makes it a lot more believable, and a lot less like an emotional circus.

The novel romanticizes the most extreme dramatics of youth with little-to-no real world ramifications. It has a happy ending, when for most people caught in those situations, there wouldn't be. It encourages the inflection of dangerous behaviors and mindsets into a confusing time, when there's really no need for that much self-destruction.

I can't tell whether this book was made FOR Tumblr, or from it. The entire thing screams for daisy chains and high waisted acid wash denim with a gauzy crop top and a pink-toned Insta filter. There's no way in hell my sister is getting her hands on this book. It would be of no benefit to her... I'd rather buy her another Rainbow Rowell instead.

Final Verdict: A rose-tinted, over-dramatized account of teenage experiences that are all too real and all too dangerous, but are inflicted without restraint and without comprehensive ramifications in a slapdash narrative. Would not recommend to any teenager.

Review: Mr. Penumbra's 24 Hour Book Club

I had a very different idea of what this book would be about before I started reading... but even though the subject matter was so wildly different, I still enjoyed this adventure into the similarities between publication and immortality... 

As Clay faces his grim future in the unemployment line - thanks to the collapse of the bagel company he served as designer for before the Great Recession - he chances upon a small bookstore, looked over by the enigmatic owner Mr. Penumbra. Frequented by a select clientele who don't even buy the books that populate the store's high-reaching shelves - just check out a copy or two of mysterious coded texts  - the bookstore holds a series of secrets Clay can't help but try to uncover... with a little help from Google. (The novel takes place, after all, in San Francisco.)

If you were a little bit taken aback from the inclusion of technology in that blurb, then you're in good company. That was actually the thing that surprised me the most about this novel: the heavy integration of computer-y bits, from the basics of data visualization, to project outplacement through a steady stream of supercomputers, makes for a bit of difference from what I thought I was getting into from just the cover alone. When you look at the sunny yellow psuedo-bookshelves and chicken-scratch writing, you would think it would be something like a Carlos Ruiz Zafon Shadow of the Wind kind of situation, or even a Cornelia Funke kind of Inkheart, but while the books share similar tone - preaching the prolonged endurance of the printed word - they really couldn't differ more in subject.

One attitude taken by the novel I did appreciate, wa the projected ingenuity and optimism represented in the future of Generation Whatever... instead of focusing on the romantic nostalgia of the musty smell of books and the magic contained between moldering pages, there was a Tomorrowland-style appreciation for all the ways technology makes our future even that much more interesting. There was a twin respect for the wonder of books and the wonder of human development, basically unheard of in books about books...

In terms of writing construction, the interior, more personal, form of narration was an incredibly interesting stylistic choice, as well. Instead of a standard format for dialogue, Clay's questions are built into the inner narration, which makes for a wonderfully absorbing character, which makes the job of connecting to him that much easier. You know you're following the story along with Clay, because you're finding everything out at the same time he is.

One thing, though, is that I feel like the inventive plot and format kind of rendered some of the characters a little bit more one-dimensional - from the imposing, mustachio-ed baddie, the fluttery and kind old bookstore owner/mentor, and the geeky and utterly irresistible intelli-girl love interest (see SNL's recent form of parody, One-Dimensional Female Character from a Male-Driven Comedy, for a more complete diagnosis of this particular stock character) - and the happy ending was just a bit too idllyic.

(Then again, an idyllic, tech-driven future, built on youth and ingenuity, that manages to satisfy all consumer groups, is kind of Google's thing, isn't it?)

In the end, I'm just waiting for it all to be unearthed as a conspiracy, planned on the part of Google's PR department, on how to promote a more positive public image for the company in the wake of so many evil-tech-empire scandals in recent years (this year's Christmas miracle will hopefully involve me convincing my father he shouldn't be buying so completely into all of Amazon's splendor).

Final Verdict: Mr. Penumbra's 24-Hour Book Club was actually a fun and interesting quick read, especially recommended for those studying communications or invested in conversations about the durability of the written word.

College Fashion Link Up: Gone Girl

This book didn't just provide the chills and thrills as promised by hyped-up fans and movie-trailers alike... it made me more excited about the concept of an unreliable narrator than I've ever been before. 

A narrative we've seen spelled out too many times splayed across spreads of tabloid pages, a cause championed by media blowhards like Nancy Grace, the twisted tale of a seemingly idyllic marriage cracking like a mirror, played out in cliche's that rip through Facebook news feeds like buzzsaws. After all, who doesn't love the spine-tingling reality and grim thrill of tracking down a Dead Wife... and who better to pin her disappearance on than a Deadbeat Husband? Nick, what did you do to Amy? 

I don't have to pretend that most of you don't know the plotline for this epic best-seller of a novel. It's maintained a spot on the New York Times list since its publication two years ago, in 2012, so it's a pretty big deal in Bookworld (and now, Movieworld, too!). The very idea of a wife's mysterious disappearance and her husband's inability to account for his actions is already a harsh situation, especially when even the narrator himself seems to be unable to explain his motives...

Alright, I know I shouldn't say "narrator," because the novel itself is a study in perspective. Part One alone flips between the modern-day observations of Nicke Dunne, while Amy's diary pages make up the rebuttal... the entire novel displays the chasms of disconnect built from the years of their relationship, only to bridge the gaps with flashes of strange commonality.

Also, to make this point clear - especially to my Dad - I refuse to tell you what happens. It's a holy mindf*** of a situation, and I went and ruined it for myself by reading the Wiki synopsis before I'd even gotten to page two, so I won't tell you, but be wary: like I said above, it's a study in perspective. So keep your eyes open. 

When it comes to construction, the characters are so well-rounded, it's astounding. Both Nick and Amy are incredibly relatable, even for their faults and foibles and differences and destructive habits, there were aspects of their personalities I viewed with close familiarity. Without giving away too much, I'll just say that we can call killers and psychos "monsters," dehumanizing them to create a discernible breach between Us and Them... but I recognized pieces of myself, my friends, my family, etc. in each of the characters of the novel.

I'm immensely impressed with Flynn for being able to craft such a monster of an interconnecting story. Trying to sift through the plot of this book was like untangling the contents of a mixed-up jewelry box... trailing along endless knots, criss-crossing story lines, coming across glinting, sharp edges of cutting commentary and recognizable views of the world, but all muddled together in an addicting mess you are determined to see through to the end. Just like I was determined to wear my long pendant tassel necklace to the first day of school, even though I had to spend a good hour extracting it from the mauled mess of my other necklaces, I was determined to find out what happened to Amy Dunne.

And be forewarned, oh future readers: this is the kind of book where people ask, "What part are you at?" then immediately follow up with the ominous, "I want to talk to you when you're finished." If you don't like having others' opinions impressed upon you unbidden, then maybe keep this title to your Kindle, so nobody gets any crazy ideas about approaching you while you're reading.

This maybe is going to sound a little heavy-handed, but honestly, it makes me reaffirmed in my desire to be a writer, that there are still people like Gillian Flynn out there writing.

So, I did a College Fashion article on this one, though inspiration didn't exactly come to me as easily as I would have like, but I'm still proud on how it all turned out. Here's my favorite look from the piece, depicting the summer Southern setting, juxtaposed against its dark and bleak tone:

READ THE REST OF THE ARTICLE HERE! 

Also, this amazing 8Tracks playlist by user "alihendrix" definitely helped get me into the mood for writing this post... with numbers like a low-key Sky Ferreira rendition of Nancy Sinatra's "Bang Bang," and indie rock The Neighborhood's smoldering "Baby Come Home" I was sucked right back into the mindsets of Nick and Amy Dunne. Definitely recommended for those who like music to accompany their reading habit!

Review: An Object of Beauty

I mean, I was on vacation for over a week before posting my accounts of The Best Books of Sophomore Year, or even a College Fashion Link Up Post for Mrs. Dalloway... but, surely I wouldn't be so careless in postponing the actual act of reading for pleasure, right? Well, wrong. It took me way too long to actually get back into reading "for funzies" again... but when I did finally pick up a new copy off of the stack, I almost sunk my own battleship before the struggle had actually begun, because this book sure was a doozy.  

An Object of Beauty, by noted author Steve Martin (more on that in a second) follows the living and livelihood of Lacey Yeager, an anti-ingenue in the not-so-much-bustling-as-trampling New York City art scene, ready to scuff the shining floors of Sotheby's with her own brand of sex appeal (all narrated by her impressionable and milquetoast friend vaguely unwarranted of mention). Through the late '90s into the current art climate, we follow Lacey as she climbs her way among the many ladders of fine arts culture, not caring about the faces she steps on along the way, knowing she could just as quickly win them back with a flash up her skirt. However, while art may be classified by the un-indoctrinated simply as beautiful, insiders know it to be daring, violent, graphic, and gaudy, in turn, and as it turns out, Lacey might just be the true artwork present in the novel.

First of all, let's talk about the elephant in the room; or, rather, the author name on the cover. I was positively tickled to leaf through the pre- and post- materials for the text itself and see no defined author photo, or even any kind of comprehensive "About the Author" page. I mean, I agree, Steve Martin should be a household name for most, but not so well known is his status as a writer of not purely comedic works, as well as his not-so-secret reputation as a bit of a fine arts aficionado. Finally cluing myself in by noting the listing of Shopgirl among his many authorial credits, I knew I truly had the right guy. It is this sort of hidden talent that emerges double-fold in An Object of Beauty.

Admittedly, despite my enthusiasm for the author, the plot moves a little bit slowly; however, the impression is deeply felt that this choice of pace was made for the sake of attention to detail, particularly present in the form of art history lessons no one would really have expected. The mappings of chronological developments, from the antiquities of ancient masters through the ironies of modern art, successfully enmesh fiction with factual descriptions of artists, their works and movements, and the intricate and entrenched filtration system for fine arts present in the layers of collectors, sellers, galleries, museums and more that exist within that culture. (One particularly welcome highlight of the work was the inclusion of many of the specific pieces of art around which he orients his narrative, rendered in color.)

I'd be hard-pressed to tell you which personalities present within the work were formed around real people - false names for friends or foes - simply because of the expertly quirky lens through which they are presented. They were as funny as fiction, but written as if real. Additionally, though the novel primarily served as an involving and breathing portrait of the New York City art playground and one girl's attempt to play it for all it was worth, the depictions of the landscape as its own kind of character made me almost want to visit the East Coast. 

Final Verdict: Intellectual, informative, and interesting - from both the plot-motivated story-side, as well as the history-encapsulating education-side - the novel effectively told the story in a detail-oriented way that still managed to be subtle in its emotional weight, while perhaps venturing a little bit into over-stimulation in some places in its minutae. An Art History 101 class with feeling, An Object of Beauty was a very complex way to kick off my summer.

Waiting on Wednesday: Don't You Forget About Me

Waiting on Wednesday is a weekly feature created by Jill at Breaking the Spine, that gives bloggers the opportunity to highlight upcoming releases about which they are extremely excited. 

I definitely had to take a step back from the bookshelves when visiting Barnes and Noble the other day... after sliding my fingers down one too many spines of Stephen King novels I already knew my father probably had collecting dust and spiders in a box in the garage, I eventually managed to remember that Finals were coming up soon, and it would probably be bad for my grade if I started losing sleep. Best wait until summer then... or maybe just June 10th, when Kate Karyus Quinn's Don't You Forget About Me hits the shelves, too! 

From Goodreads: 

"Welcome to Gardnerville.

A place where no one gets sick. And no one ever dies.

Except...
There’s a price to pay for paradise. Every fourth year, the strange power that fuels the town exacts its payment by infecting teens with deadly urges. In a normal year in Gardnerville, teens might stop talking to their best friends. In a fourth year, they’d kill them.

Four years ago, Skylar’s sister, Piper, was locked away after leading sixteen of her classmates to a watery grave. Since then, Skylar has lived in a numb haze, struggling to forget her past and dull the pain of losing her sister. But the secrets and memories Piper left behind keep taunting Skylar—whispering that the only way to get her sister back is to stop Gardnerville’s murderous cycle once and for all." 

Why am I so excited?

Honestly, I've never heard anything like this plot before. Usually I'd immediately pin down the whole "mysterious small town" and "damaged older sibling" tropes and decide this book wasn't worth my time, but damn, if that isn't an intriguing plot! Besides, both this title and Kate Karyus Quinn's previous novel - Another Little Piece - have been well-reviewed for their matching up of contemporary feeling with the creep factor, and I'm definitely feeling the need for some creepiness with these long, comfy summer nights lying in front of me. Bonus points for the incredibly intriguing cover! 

What are you waiting on this Wednesday?

Stacking the Shelves: Week Eight is Great

Stacking the Shelves is a weekly Saturday book meme from Tynga's Reviews, all about sharing the books you've added to your shelves over the course of the week.

Thank goodness I've actually been getting some reading done lately... mainly because I've realized that my attendance record in my Psych lectures has been improving, as long as I remember to bring my Kindle to class with me! Aren't you proud, Dad? 

And yet, most of my purchases this past week haven't been on my Kindle, thanks to a very forgiving Mom and an hour spent wandering around inside my favorite secondhand bookstore in Tacoma, King's Books! Nine new novels, all for under $50 (I'm a very thrifty person; Lord knows my bookish habits are expensive). And I already know that this haul is going to be a light one, as opposed to next week's, when I take a trip down to Portland, OR... Powell's, HERE I COME. 

FROM KING'S BOOKS

Gregory Macguire's Wicked

Steve Martin's An Object of Beauty

Carlos Ruiz Zafon's The Angel's Game

Suzanne Young's The Program

Nurakami's Norwegian Wood

Joseph J. Ellis' Founding Fathers: The Revolutionary Generation

The Second Common Reader: Virginia Woolf

The Viking Portable Library: D. H. Lawrence

Agatha Chritie's The Hollow

FOR KINDLE

Ania Ahlborn's The Neighbors

Adelle Waldman's New Year's: Nathaniel P. As Seen Through the Eyes of His Friend Aurit

What did you stack your shelves with this week?

Waiting on Wednesday: Bittersweet

Waiting on Wednesday is a weekly feature created by Jill at Breaking the Spine, that gives bloggers the opportunity to highlight upcoming releases about which they are extremely excited. 

This week, I'm looking forward to summer, which makes beach reads a reasonably welcome topic at this time. Featuring family and brutality in a summer paradise, Bittersweet, by Miranda Beverly-Whittemore seems like it will serve up plenty of heat for those smokin' summer evenings, making its day May 13th. 

Mabel Dagmar is shocked as her gorgeous, Old Money roommate Genevra Winslow, affectionately nicknamed Ev, not only chooses  to befriend her, just a scholarship student at their prestigious East Coast university, but invites her to spend the summer at her family's Vermont century-old estate. There, the Winslow clan has been retreating for over a hundred years, and soon enough, Mabel feels like she's one of the family, too. Sinking into the languid summer's heavy rotation of sun, sparklers, cocktails and comfort, she finally feels like everything she's ever wanted - money, friendship, a boyfriend - is within her grasp... but it soon comes to light that her new position as one of the family makes for a great position for viewing some of the family's more dangerous secrets. 

When the Winslow's power comes from a more shocking source than she could ever have imagine and elicits striking violence into the core of the comfort she had so recently attained, Mabel must choose to hide the secrets she's uncovered, or revert to the powerless positions she held before. In defining for herself the lines running between good and evil, she finds that the two aren't so mutually exclusive, but she can't have both. 

Why am I excited? 

An idyllic waterside retreat plagued by corrupt people with too much money on their hands and shady dealings in their past? Man, is this going to make for a helluva summer read. And man, does it sound like an episode of Revenge (which is right up there by Scandal on the list of kick ass TV shows of which I have never been able to partake in, but seriously feel like I would enjoy immensely). I can't wait to get my hands on this novel! 

What are you waiting on this Wednesday?

Waiting on Wednesday: To Rise Again at a Different Hour

Waiting on Wednesday is a weekly feature created by Jill at Breaking the Spine, that gives bloggers the opportunity to highlight upcoming releases about which they are extremely excited. 

Getting your identity stolen is a scary thing... and a thing my family is becoming a little more intimate with this year, after the Seattle Archdiocese had its accounts hacked, and someone stole my mom's social security number! With this issue fresh in my brain, I stumbled across this upcoming release, about a man whose online identity, manipulated by a different person, causes him to call into question everything he knows about the divisions between reality and virtuality. Here's Joshua Ferris' To Rise Again at a Later Hour, due for publication this upcoming May 13th. 

Paul O'Rourke, a complex man who doesn't quite know what to make of his own many contradictions, can't understand the motives behind the mystery, after someone creates multiple social media identities in his name, and begins to impersonate him online. However, it isn't just the flagrant violation of his privacy and rights of his own identity that causes him concern, but the fact that this new, virtual version of himself just might be more interesting than the flesh-and-blood Paul. Now the question comes into play, not only why his identity was stolen in the first place, but what is Paul going to be able to do to get it back. 

Forcing Paul to come to terms with his past problems, present discomfort, and future uncertainty,  as well as his own issues with the internet, To Rise Again at a Later Hour is a hilarious account of one man's grappling with his virtual counterpart and the absurdities of the modern world. 

Why I'm Excited? 

Like I said, identity theft is something I've really got my mind stuck on right now, and growing up with a Dad whose main source of inspiration in this world deals with computers, as well as just having finished the INFO class from Hell last quarter, that explicitly dealt with information systems and social media, I've already got a lot of opinions on this subject matter. I can't wait to see how this one turns out, especially because it's supposed to be very humorously presented, as well. 

What novels are you waiting on this Wednesday? 

College Fashion Link Up: Fangirl

Sometimes, book recommendations can come from some pretty unexpected places. I've had reading recs come from random people I meet in bookstores, and dug up from random reviews online, and even in the random grocery stores checkout line, I've found new books to read. Which makes it seem super weird that one of the most unexpected places from which I might get a book lent to me, ended up being my fourteen-year-old sister.

Yep, that's right: someone closer to the ideal age for readers of Young Adult than I, and someone who predicted the inevitable publishing power of the incomparable Rainbow Rowell before I, was the one to first lend me any of the newly popular author's books, and that someone was my baby Ballerina. She's only really gotten into books within the past six months or so, and I couldn't be happier for her newest source of happiness. Now, I've got someone to fangirl with me, and read Fangirl with me. So, in honor of this most welcome of developments in my family life, I decided to make the novel the topic of my most recent post on College Fashion's "Looks from Books" column.

And I'm so happy The Ballerina recommended this novel to me. From it's all-too-relatable college setting, to it's quirky, adorable heroine, to it's bordering-on-Sarah-Dessen-sweet hero, I couldn't put this book down, and honestly, it made me want to go back to writing more of my own fiction. While those dreams may have to wait until we're out of the mire that is midterms in the last quarter of Winter Quarter, I can still enjoy this great contemporary YA read right now. Here's my favorite look from the article, based off of the character of Cath: 

Go read the article HERE for more fun looks!!! 

Review: The Jane Austen Book Club

Maybe I should hold back on the Austen for a while... it seems I'm getting a little burned out on Regency ruffles and perfectly-written gentlemen. After all, there's only two more days until February, which will hopefully soon usher in the return of Emma Approved, and fix my Jane-dependence in short order. But the disappointment of Death Comes to Pemberley left such a bad taste in my mouth that I just had to try and rinse it out with something better... which is why I picked up an old recommendation of some of my aunts, and started Karen Joy Fowler's The Jane Austen Book Club.

The novel follows the lives of six friends - Jocelyn, Sylvia, Prudie, Allegra, Bernadette, and (the lone dude) Grigg - as they make their way through each of Austen's novels in their book club, while using the classic stories to examine the love - or lack thereof - in their own lives. Over the course of the six months they are together, they find relationships tested, and others come together, while the under-running current of Jane's stories provide some lessons they just might need to hear.

This book is yet another on loan from my mom, who, before her, had been recommended the novel by two of her sisters, which led to a bit of expectation before I had even began the novel that it would be a fairly girly romance with a lot of heart. And for the most part, my prediction was spot on. This is definitely not a book most dudes I can think of would pick up of their own volition. And the emotional core of the novel was definitely the focus: relationships - between a mom and her daughter, between two old friends, between a husband and a wife - are definitely the focus, and are both well-described and well-constructed.

However, what really struck me the most about the novel - especially for one written with the centralized idea being the function of Jane Austen's writing in people's lives - was the more literary nature of the writing style. There were some instances of really lovely language in there, and, honestly, it was unexpectedly nice. I didn't really guess that there would be more complex language and extended metaphor or anything, but I liked it. The overall style was one I really liked, and it was fitting for a book about books.

Not that the stories within TJABC really had to do with Austen; primarily the novels just served as a basic jumping off point for some interesting, three-dimensional characters, to touch on some pertinent contemporary themes in relationships. But it wasn't anything spectacular, mind you: whether it was because I wasn't the ideal demographic for reading it, or just that it never really connected with me on a personal level, there wasn't much of anything between me and this book. It was good. I liked the writing. It was interesting... but in the end, it wasn't for me.

Overall, it was a nice and comfortable feel-good read to pass the time with, that never slips into stereotypes and leaves breathing room for imagination, but never really sparked anything in my mind, either.

(Oh, and don't watch the movie trailer... I think it actually made me like the book less.)

Review: The Line (Witching Savannah #1)

(This novel was purchased through Amazon's new Kindle First feature, which allows for editor's picks of upcoming ebooks to be purchased prior to their release date. The Line (Witching Savannah #1) will be available on February 1st). 

Alright, I'm beginning to realize how much of a cover snob I really am, after exercises in organizing my review library and some general perusing of Amazon's Kindle Daily Deals... I mean, it's my Kindle! I don't even have to look at the covers, and yet, I will choose a book with a gorgeous cover, even if their contents aren't as in my line of preference, over an ugly one that was practically written for my tastes.

Which is why I borderline started salivating when I saw this fantastic cover for The Line, by J.D. Horn, which actually happens to be both gorgeous, and full of fun twisty plot points and relatable characters and everything else I hold dear in some of my favorite books. And I got it for $1.99? Lord, save me from myself. I was diving into the first few pages mere moments after the contents had fully downloaded onto the device, and I finished the book in one sitting. I'm not joking.

The Line details the story of Mercy Taylor, one of the youngest members of Savannah's preeminent witching family, but sadly one whose twin sister got all the power, leaving her with the family nickname of The Disappointment. Dealing with the scorn of her clan and some very unwelcome feelings of attraction to her sister's dedicated beau, Mercy goes to a Hoodoo witch for some help... and ends up getting into a lot more trouble than she asked for, after the powerful matriarch of the Taylor family winds up dead.

The book has been marketed towards fans of the Sookie Stackhouse series, and honestly, after finishing this book, that fact alone makes me really, really want to get to watching True Blood, because this was awesome. I never really got on board the whole "witch" train - I got bored with a lot of paranormal after people started switching to mermaids, and there's enough of that "bitchy witchy" stuff on even The Vampire Diaries or the current season of American Horror Story - but I guess I'm going to have to re-evaluate my stance, because the mythology of this book straddled just the right line between magic and reality. 

One of the things I loved most about it was the incredibly fast pace: it just thrashes through plot twist after plot twist at breakneck speeds, and successfully builds a captivating world of witches and magic at the heart of the history-wracked Southern city of Savannah. I mean, it's true that sometimes the constant plot reveals can gave you  a bit of whiplash, but honestly, it was nice going through a modern urban fantasy novel where you couldn't guess everything ahead of time. It has a bit of a clunky start, but give it two chapters, at least, before you even think about DNFing, because once you start moving into the actual plot, you're not going to want to put it down. 

Special kudos goes out to our sweet and spunky heroine, Mercy, too, who underwent a spiritual journey of her own, without sacrificing any of the friendliness and moral grounding that made her so appealing in the first place. She's a good kid, which was also nice, because she was written by a guy, so I appreciate the well-rounded character, who can totally kick ass, but still has her moments of insecurity, and always takes the higher ground. A well-written lady. 

But of course, everyone's got their problems, and The Line did have a couple of plot holes and a few kind-of stock characters. But honestly, it was just so much fun, that I didn't even care. 

For a book that's all about magic and mystery in one of the South's sweetest cities, that's short on simmer and big on bang, pick up a copy of The Line, while I go pick up a copy of Charlaine Harris' work.