This book serves as a perfect example of why, generally, I'm not a fan of historical fiction: neither the fiction nor the history is well-served. I read a lot of politics, social justice, history, and LGBTQ (primarily fiction, but also nonfiction). In this case, I would have been much more satisfied by reading a historical account of the AIDS crisis (along with race relations and general LGBTQ issues). Here, the significant factual narrative was completely overshadowed by the sexual exploits of the fictional characters. It's like the history was an afterthought. After reading a well-done nonfiction account of the topics, I would also, possibly, be happy to read a purely fictional story about the main character, Trey, if it weren't so sexually explicit. That is, every little detail of the many sexual encounters of several characters is not interesting to me. I don't think it advances the characters' stories. Describe to me how the characters feel and what they're thinking. Make me care. Don't just catalog their sexual positions and acts.

Contrary to the publisher's assertion that the book is “an exhilarating, fast-paced coming-of-age story,” I felt like every minute of the book was a trudge. This is an especially startling disconnect in a book that is relatively short (fewer than 300 pages).

Thank you, NetGalley and Macmillan Audio, for the audio ARC of the book in exchange for an honest review. Publication is expected August 23.

Iggy thinks there's a ghost in his dad's basement. He and his friends Ada and Rosie work together, using the scientific method, to determine whether he's right.

I especially like the spirit of cooperation between the friends, the fact that the friends are diverse in gender and race, the presence of a supportive adult, and the use of science.

Thank you, NetGalley and Dreamscape Media, for the audio ARC of the book in exchange for an honest review. Publication is expected August 23.

It's refreshing—and all too rare, it seems—to read a book where several of the characters (both Laurie at almost-40 and supporting characters in the two generations before her) are mature in terms of both age and behavior, but also funny, vibrant, strong, smart, sexy, and a host of other positive characteristics.

Thank you, NetGalley and Dreamscape Media, for the audio ARC of the book in exchange for an honest review. Publication is expected August 9.

4-star reads

• The Bodyguard, Katherine Center
• Finding My Voice, Valerie Jarrett
• Upgrade, Blake Crouch
• The Decomposition of Jack, Kristin O'Donnell Tubb

honorable mention (3.5)

• The Law of Innocence (Mickey Haller #6), Michael Connelly
• Race and Reckoning, Ellis Cose

This is the third YA rom-com I read over the course of less than two weeks, and it's the only one in which sex is part of the equation. As the main character has reached the age of majority (in story time—not when she became sexually active), this is not really an issue. However, the sex scene didn't add anything to the story. Though that's not the only factor, this did contribute to the fact that I rated this book lowest of the three.

I didn't find most of the characters particularly appealing. If over-the-top family drama is fun for you, you might enjoy it more.

Regardless, if you're a Sloan fan, you should definitely read The Suitcase Clone. Even if you aren't a generally a short story (or slightly longer short story) fan—as I generally am not—this piece is plenty entertaining and certainly a quick read. There's a surprising level of intrigue and adventure for such a short piece.

Thank you, NetGalley and Macmillan Audio (for their production from Farrar, Straus and Giroux), for the audio ARC of the book in exchange for an honest review. Publication is expected August 2.

A major disaster is discovered toward the end of Liv's impromptu South African trip (slightly shy of the halfway point) that is ridiculously implausible, but sets the stage for the rest of the story. Not to worry—I don't think I'll be spoiling anything when I tell you that everyone lives happily ever after.

Befitting a rom-com (vs. a hardcore romance), sex is minimal and not terribly graphic.

Thank you, NetGalley and Blackstone Publishing, for the audio ARC of the book in exchange for an honest review. Publication is expected August 2.

The book absolutely makes some important sociopolitical points, but does so almost casually or in passing. I felt like the lessons got lost in Turner's exhaustively detailed retelling of her personal events. There are much more powerful books on the subject—both fiction and nonfiction.

My favorite quote of the book offers some comic relief (I think), when Dawn's sister, Kim, says to her, “Don't leave me with that woman. When she’s old and crazy, how will we know?” [Part 2 Chapter 14]

Representation includes gay, lesbian, Black, and Vietnamese American.

This quote sums up Blaine, but serves many of us well: “Where's the fun in fitting in?” [Chapter 2]

Con: Libby is painfully slow to come to terms with her true attraction; repetitive; *I didn't like the way Wes masqueraded his affection for Libby by antagonizing her

Thank you to NetGalley and Harper Audio for making this voicegalley (not human-narrated audiobook) ARC of the book available in exchange for an honest review. Publication is expected October 11.

After the huge disappointment of my previous read—which was billed as a science fiction mystery/thriller [though I believe it's really a sci-fi mystery (not thriller)—I've discussed the differences before]—I debated whether to read Upgrade—a science fiction thriller—immediately or to put a book or more between. I'm glad that I dove in immediately. This book is longer than Scarecrow, but has a much better pace—there's less repetition (if any) and much more depth, action, and excitement. In fact, perhaps Upgrade could have been even slightly longer without diminishing its effect. I've read and very-much-enjoyed two other books of Crouch's previously—he'll stay on my radar as a preferred author.

The book is classified as a science fiction mystery/thriller. Given that mystery has always been my favorite genre, and that I also read heavily in science fiction, I jumped at the chance to request to read it as soon as I saw it in early April. Sadly, not only did I not love the book, I actively disliked it. Here are just a few of the reasons:

• The Widowers' Club contests were creepy. At best, one was voyeuristic. At worst, most of the contents were extremely violent.
• All of the characters and relationships are highly unpleasant.
• I predicted the murderer before the 25% mark.
• The book is relatively short, but felt sooooooooooo long. It was a trudge.
• The book is full of violence, misogyny, and psychological manipulation. It's not limited to one character, event, or purpose—it's just pervasive and oppressive.

As always, I'll point out that your mileage may vary, and I welcome discussion with other readers.

Thank you, NetGalley and Imbrifex Audio, for the audio ARC of the book in exchange for an honest review. Publication is expected August 2.

It's no wonder that Jarrett is so determined, intelligent, and accomplished—she comes from a long line of super-high-achievers. [I would have liked to meet several of her ancestors, as well.] Jarrett and I both grew up in Hyde Park/Kenwood, but our age difference kept us from meeting then. Both her personal and professional lives are fascinating.

Incidentally, Justin and Hannah gave me The Ultimate Reading Challenge: Complete a goal, open an envelope, and reveal your bookish prize! for my birthday this year. This book opened the envelope “Read a book that's been sitting on your shelf, unread, for more than a year.” The book was published on April 2, 2019; I shelved it six days later. This was a good pick for this week—it was inspiring and fun.

Besides the absence of the above-mentioned offensive items, I enjoyed The Bodyguard because of these positive inclusions: humor; a strong, independent, skillful female protagonist (yes, Hannah has some insecurities—she's human); Jack's warm family (for the most part); and acknowledgment of the importance of event-suitable footwear.

Thank you, NetGalley and Macmillan Audio, for the audio ARC of the book in exchange for an honest review. Publication is expected July 19.

The sixth book is in keeping with its predecessors in terms of tone and formula. It's set near the beginning of the COVID-19 pandemic. There were fewer appearances by Lorna and Cisco. Mickey & Maggie's daughter is now in college (or law school, maybe?). Mickey's love interest from the previous book makes an appearance. As always, there's a little surprise toward the end.

As far as I can tell, Connelly has written 23 Hieronymus “Harry” Bosch books so far. When I start that series, I'll try to show greater restraint and not consume them all in the space of a month . . . or even six of them in a month. [I started The Lincoln Lawyer (book 1) on June 3. I finished The Law of Innocence (book 6) on July 3.] I have only watched an episode or two of the Bosch television series. Binge opportunities abound!

4-star reads

• The Lincoln Lawyer, Michael Connelly
• The Brass Verdict, Michael Connelly
• Book Lovers, Emily Henry
• Lessons in Chemistry, Bonnie Garmus (4.66)
• Last Summer on State Street, Toya Wolfe

honorable mention

• The Reversal, Michael Connelly (3.66)
• Things to Look Forward To, Sophie Blackall (3.5)
• The Fifth Witness, Michael Connelly (3.5)
• The Gods of Guilt, Michael Connelly (3.5)
• Adult Assembly Required, Abbi Waxman (3.66)

There's so much of Waxman's trademark gentle, often bookish humor that I can't possibly share all my bookmarks. Here's just a taste.

• In a note from landlord Maggie to Laura: “Animals have all been fed. Don't listen to their lies.” [Chapter Four]
• This interchange between Nina and her boyfriend, Tom, in front of their friends in Chapter Twenty-Nine:

  “Tell the normal people what you moved out of your schedule to make room for both me and trivia.”

  “Additional reading,” said Nina defiantly.

  “Which was additional to. . . ?”

  “Work reading,” she said in a slightly quieter voice.

  “Which was on top of. . . ?”

  “Regular reading,” she muttered.

  Tom turned up his palms and grinned at Bob.

• Nina sings the praises of Reese's peanut butter pumpkins in Chapter Thirty-Nine: “They're the best of the shapes. . . . It's the perfect ratio of chocolate to peanut butter.” young Claire echoes the sentiment in Chapter 40. [I prefer the ratio in Reese's peanut butter eggs, in case you were curious.]

In addition to the humor, the many various relationships in the book are key. [Toward the end, the romantic denial between Laura and Impossibly Handsome Bob became just too much, in my opinion; but it didn't sour me on the book overall.] I typically like Waxman's books (though—shockingly—I did bail on one), and the latest is no exception. They're easy and comforting to read—my drug of choice to counter the currently atrocious happenings in real life.

MC Ropa is a reader after my own heart, though—she is an audiobook devotee. “I walk around all day, and the way I see it, if I'm walking and learning, then I'm doubling time.” [Chapter 2]

The writing is choppy and basic. My overwhelming feeling during the entire book was boredom. [I was going to say “ennui”, but it doesn't merit the more interesting word.] I often omit the final paragraph in the publisher's description—you know, the money shot—but I had to include this one because the book falls so very short on both the promised comedy and horror sides of the knife's edge. Allison is uninspired and immature. The (non-)surprise ending didn't elicit even the tiniest gasp from this horror lightweight.

As is not infrequently the case, my opinion is in the minority for this recent release. If you read it, let me know how it worked for you. I hope the answer is “better!”

There wasn’t enough caution tape in the world for our neighborhood. [Chapter 18: Salvation]

My favorite passage (probably) comes just a hair before the very end, so I won't share it with you—I'll leave it for you to discover and sit with when you get there. The ending was just right.

This work is especially well-served by reading with one's ears because it varies in style from chapter to chapter, told as regular narrative, podcasts, interviews, and letters. The audio edition boasts 10 narrators, which also enhances the variety of chapter formats. I'm not a podcast follower or true-crime fan—if you are either/both, the audio edition of this book may be especially fun for you. Mystery is the predominant genre.

In addition to Violet, Sasha, Quinn, and Cameron, as mentioned in the publisher's summary, Sasha's husband/Quinn's dad is a key character, and there are several segments featuring an older magician who perhaps served as a mentor to Violet. Overall, my favorite chapters were those in the present day, primarily starring Sasha and her family.

Thank you, NetGalley and Macmillan Audio, for the audio ARC of the book in exchange for an honest review. Publication is expected July 5.

As long as I've started out with the bad . . . content warnings include beating, rape, domestic abuse, child neglect and abuse, death, and death threats.

Less bad than misleading: the book cover pictured above on the top is the American edition, which makes the book look like fluffy “chick lit” (a term for which I don't care, as you know). It's not that. The cover pictured on the bottom is the British edition. An exclusive Waterstones edition (with the British cover) also has the paper edges stamped with elements, periodic table–style. Like most of my bookish friends who have read the book, I find the American marketing choices curious at best.

Now that we've got the negatives out of the way, let's get down to the good stuff! Lessons In Chemistry very much appealed to and resonated with me. I saw myself, friends, and family in multiple parts of the story—good and bad.

In addition to Elizabeth and Mad Zott, several characters are prominent in and especially important to the story, including Elizabeth's neighbor, Harriet Sloane; Walter Pine, Elizabeth's TV boss and the father of one of Mad's classmates; and Elizabeth's rescue dog, Six-Thirty, who understands a phenomenal number of English words and uses his knowledge to great end. There's also a priest (whose name escapes me at the moment) who is helpful to Mad when she is searching for information about her late father, Calvin. The relationships between these characters are developed beautifully. I cared about them and their stories.

There were so many weighty and infuriating topics in the book, which made it a heavy read overall (again, not a book that deserves the cover pictured above top). There's also humor, vulnerability, hope, and love, rounding out the experience. It's rare that I enjoy a work of fiction quite this much—let alone one that includes so much injustice and violence.

I bookmarked 16 passages to revisit later (again, good and bad), including the following response from the author about the importance of rowing to the story—and life—in the bonus interview at the end of the audiobook.

In terms of rowing, I wanted it in there because . . . rowing is a metaphor for balance. It's a metaphor for collaboration and cooperation. It's the art of working together, of recognizing our commonalities. And, while those are strengths—for everyone they're strengths—but, in a boat, how well you cooperate with each other is the difference between winning and losing. It's not who's the biggest; it's who cooperates best with their teammates. Everyone rows as one, and that is hard. The author-cited statistic by Elizabeth that we're 99% the same happens to be true, and it's also part of rowing. Things like systemic racism and misogyny and religious zealotry are divisive elements, and they're not based in science. They're cultural constructs, and they're usually used to control people—to keep some in charge and others under their thumbs. Imbalance in a boat spells failure, and the same is true in everyday life. So, when we choose to create situations dominated by one race, one gender, one religion, one outlook, we create imbalance, and the result is havoc. —Interview with Bonnie Garmus, conducted by British journalist and speaker Pandora Sykes

I had high expectations because of the overwhelmingly glowing reviews (granted, there aren't that many yet) and because the author is a co-creator of the TV series How I Met Your Mother. Several reviewers promised that it would all come together in a spectacular end. I'll grant that the ending is somewhat successful in terms of connecting the dots and bringing things to a satisfying close. However, it doesn't make up for the fact that it's too fluffin' long! If the story were a lot more engaging and the characters were significantly more appealing, the length might be warranted. But the vast majority of the characters are over-the-top: too superficial, self-absorbed, petty, and jealous. The story finally started getting mildly interesting at the 90% mark—roughly page 432 is a little long to wait for a reward, isn't it? [One of the worst characters performs an act of kindness only slightly before this point—again, it's too little too late in my book.] In the entire almost 500 pages, I only marked three passages for additional reflection. There are much shorter works in which I have wanted to remember much more.

If you use my less-stellar reviews as your marker for a promising book, you like taking the scenic route, or you have nothing but time to read, this one could be for you.

Antigone is barely more than the narrator. There is next-to-nothing relating to her personal actions or feelings. [Contrast this to Miller's Circe, the retelling of which I enjoyed and rated highly.]

Rape and murder abound. This shouldn't be a surprise to anyone who has read Greek mythology. Zeus abducts and rapes Europa, and Laius (Oedipus' father/Antigone's grandfather) rapes a young servant boy. Both are described graphically to no real “benefit” to this story, in my opinion. In the murder department: Laius orders that his infant son (later named Oedipus by his adoptive parents) be murdered (obviously, that doesn't happen); years later, Oedipus murders Laius (whom he doesn't know is his birth father), as prophesied; and there are other “less important” murders as well. Multiple suicides and maims are also described.

The most interesting and only possibly decent characters end up being the servants who care for Queen Jocasta (Oedipus' mother/later wife; Antigone's grandmother and mother) during her pregnancy and beyond, and who facilitate the rescue of the infant Oedipus. These servants are present throughout the story—they appear toward the end as Oedipus' true identity is discovered/revealed, bringing the story full-circle.

Thank you, NetGalley and Saga Egmont Audio, for the audio ARC of the book in exchange for an honest review. Publication is expected July 1.

Here are a couple of my favorites:

No. 27: Collecting Pebbles: But I live with someone who, much as he appreciates pebbles, believes that there is a limit to the number of pebbles you can keep in a home. That number is 288, apparently. So, if you have more than 288 pebbles, you can give them away. But first you can paint whales and comets and rabbits and moons on them. [62]

No. 31: Moving the Furniture Around: My grandmother, who never went on vacation, used to say, “A change is as good as a holiday.” [72]

At the start, I thought it was going to be great fun—perhaps in a similar vein to John Scalzi, Douglas Adams, or Dennis E. Taylor's Bobiverse series—science fiction with a little social commentary and a lot of humor. Well before the end, I felt like it was too heavy on the social commentary and trauma (however accurate and well-deserved) and far lighter on the humor. Most likely, it's just not the book for me at this time—though it is a fine book for this time. The acknowledgments indicate that the author started building one of the dystopian storylines before it became a reality in which we are currently living. While I have read heavily in the areas of politics and social and racial justice, I find myself currently needing more entertainment for entertainment's sake. That is, while I'm not ignoring that we are living in a tenuous time socially, politically, and historically (I read news every day), I need to have a break from that each day, too. Recreational reading needs to be my break time for now.

Cons: drags on; doesn't seem to trust that we'll get references unless we're hit over the head with them

Pros: many strong, clever, creative, daring, loyal, task- and team-oriented female characters; diversity in humans and other species (imagined or real—who am I to say?); quest to save life in multiple universes and times; interesting connections made between the times/universes

Thank you, NetGalley and ECW Press Audio, for the audio ARC of the book in exchange for an honest review. Publication is expected June 30.

As in all the series installments so far, this one exposes some of the challenges of the criminal justice system. Everyone is entitled to a defense, and the defense attorney must defend their client even if they know the client is guilty. In the series so far, we've met clients who were found guilty but were actually innocent and clients who were found innocent but were actually guilty. In each book, we read about the investigators' searches, Mickey's thought process and courtroom performance, and the goings-on inside the courtroom and in the community. [Fun fact: As a tween, I thought I wanted to be a lawyer, and I thought quite a bit, with ambivalence, about these very things. Sadly, I didn't have particularly good advisors/guidance on the vocations to which I might have been best-suited.]

I'm rating this installment ever-so-slightly lower. It was more gruesome and threatening overall. Content warnings include child abduction, murder of a child, sexual assault of children, drug abuse and addiction, and mass murder.

At the risk of beating a dead horse, I want to talk about the romance genre and books about books/libraries/bookshops. Both of these tend to disappoint me, but I keep on reading them because I'm determined in my belief that some author is capable of doing them right (for me).

First, let's talk about romance as a genre. I am of an age that thinks of the romance genre in terms of Harlequin romances and the like—the paperbacks with racy pictures on the cover, churned out to titillate bored housewives. The whole point of those is the sex. There's not a lot of plot required, and I imagine that they're quite formulaic (which isn't always a bad thing, of course—when one finds what they like, why not have more?). If that's your bag, cool—enjoy! Fast forward some decades, and now it seems that anything that includes a romantic relationship is considered part of the romance genre. Really?! That's so disappointing to me. I hope that romantic relationships are part of all adults' lives, if they so desire. I like to read about romantic relationships . . . as part of an interesting, well-rounded work of fiction. That is, I need more than the sex—I want to know about the whole lives. Incidentally, I looked up some much older works of fiction that include romantic relationships (e.g. Wuthering Heights, Jane Eyre, and Pride and Prejudice), and while there are a shocking number of readers who classify those as romance, there are significantly more who classify them both as classics and fiction. That's what I'm talking about! From now on, I'm not going to classify what I read as belonging to the romance genre unless it's just about sex. Instead, I will classify more fully-plotted books as fiction . . . and occasionally, if the shoe fits, also as a rom-com.

Now, on to books about books/libraries/bookshops. Don't tease a bookdragon with a bookish title or location if it's not pertinent to the plot. That is all.

Back to Book Lovers, there was a slightly irritating and angsty section of the book that dragged for me. Luckily, it's not the greatest portion of the book. I'm not a huge fan of the “we just can't make this relationship work for ridiculous and superficial reasons, so we mustn't ever see each other again” trope. Then again, if the characters were completely mature and secure, I guess it would be too easy? I don't know.

On a brighter and stronger note, here are some of the things that satisfied me in terms of “fiction that doesn't belong in the romance genre, but includes romantic relationship(s) as an element of the story” as well as book-themed books:

• As I've mentioned in reviews of other misclassified books that I've enjoyed (however rare), the characters don't fall into bed instantaneously—a relationship develops.
• It's funny! Really funny! Sometimes punny. Sometimes dark. Sometimes snarky. Lots of humor! Who doesn't need more of that right now?
• Books, bookish locations, and bookish people are prominent and believable. Nora is a book agent. Charlie is a book editor. Nora and Libby are lifelong readers. Charlie's mom owns a bookstore. One of Nora's clients (a writer) figures into several aspects of the story.

The bottom line is that Book Lovers was a winner for me. It was definitely worth the hold spot it hogged.

For those who are living vicariously through my dive into all things Lincoln Lawyer, here are the updates since my review of book one:

• I read two unrelated books between LL books one and two. I read one unrelated book between book two (that I am reviewing now) and book three (my current read, as I'm writing).
• I was able to borrow books two through six—hooray! Now the challenge is to read them all before they're due, while keeping up with my NetGalley list and my other library holds coming available. It's a good challenge!
• We rewatched the 2011 movie—based on the first book—on date night this week. Overall, I think the movie was more true to the book than the Netflix series was. There was one point toward the end of the movie in which I was disappointed with a plot point adaptation. I didn't think the tension in the movie was as high as in the first book—also a slight disappointment. Still, rewatching the movie was a treat—no regrets.
• The temptation is high to discuss the differences between the visual adaptations and the original books. I think I did pretty well resisting sharing with my partner this week, but he might beg to differ. He doesn't read as voraciously as I do—he has other responsibilities and interests—so it will be a while before he catches up with me in the book series. Please wish us both luck.

I'll see you again in a couple/few days to talk about book three!

Thank you, NetGalley and Macmillan Audio, for the audio ARC of the book in exchange for an honest review. Publication is expected June 14.

• Read the entire book series in order. A more patient person might have waited three-or-so months in the library line for the audiobook. I just couldn't—I used one of my precious Audible credits on the first installment. [In all honesty, I hoard those—I still had three-quarters of my annual credits remaining to spend in the one-quarter of my membership year remaining, so it wasn't exactly a crisis that I parted with a credit.] I'm hoping to be able to read the rest of them on loan, but that's going to mean a breakneck pace. Hold on, folks! [I read Gods of Guilt, which is the fifth book, in May of 2014. I will reread it when its turn comes up.]
• Rewatch the 2011 movie The Lincoln Lawyer. I can't tell you how long it's been since I watched it, and I can hardly wait to watch it again. I typically either read the book or watch the movie, but some things are cool enough to consume both and appreciate on their own merits.
• Risk irritating my loved ones by dissecting miniscule to ginormous variations in plot points between the books and the TV series and movie.

On to the book. . . . Despite my understanding that the Netflix series is based on the second book, there was a storyline that was drawn from the first book. The details are not identical, but they're fairly close. I enjoyed meeting the characters in Mickey's inner circle. I was on the edge of my seat several times during the story, as exciting, tense, sad, or scary events played out. I enjoyed watching Mickey (and select other characters) put the puzzle pieces together. I'm a fan, so far. Bring on book two!

The Favorite Funny Quote of the Book Award goes to: “She must spend half her day rolling her eyes at him.” [refers to minor characters Jillian and Simon (a couple) in Chapter Nineteen]

Pros: Eleanor's mom and boss (mom's friend) are supportive of Eleanor; other supportive adults include chef and artist parents of a minor character; Pix is (mostly) appealing—sweet, tender, and sincere; a little bit of history; a smidge of social justice

Cons: Eleanor is whiny and self-pitying throughout; too many slow and repetitive flashback scenes

Content warnings include bullying; teenage alcohol and marijuana abuse; violence (mild to moderate); homophobia; stalking

4-star reads

• Remarkably Bright Creatures, Shelby Van Pelt
• The Marlow Murder Club, Robert Thorogood
• Yerba Buena, Nina LaCour
• The Agathas, Kathleen Glasgow & Liz Lawson
• Bellweather Rhapsody, Kate Racculia

honorable mention

• Let's Dance, David Bowie (original lyrics) & Hannah Marks (Illustrator) (3.5)
• The Murder Rule, Dervla McTiernan (3.5)
• The Secret Life of Albert Entwistle, Matt Cain (3.5)
• The Gatekeeper, James Byrne (3.66)

Pro: the tiniest smattering of humor; a secret room; a loyal friend; a bar called Oxford Commas

Con: Savannah's supposedly loyal family that is actually totally toxic, including her nasty, selfish, narcissistic sister/roommate who is engaged to Savannah's ex of eight years, and their completely insensitive parents; Savannah's incredible and irritating lack of self-esteem and maturity; general tediousness

The book is action-packed and fast-paced. There are new and old relationships that come into play for Dez and other characters, which makes things more interesting. There are numerous characters representing women and people of color in powerful positions, which is more refreshing than it should be. There's a fair amount of teamwork involved, even though Dez is star of the show.

There is explicit and graphic violence, blood, and gore at a level common to contemporary thrillers. It's gross while it's happening, but it doesn't comprise the bulk of the book.

I hope that Byrne continues writing. I would read another novel from him.

Thank you, NetGalley and Macmillan Audio, for the audio ARC of the book in exchange for an honest review. Publication is expected June 7.

I don't remember how long the book was on my TBR list, nor who recommended it to me. I found it so much more enjoyable than Racculia's Tuesday Mooney Talks to Ghosts, which I read immediately after its publication (as opposed to eight years after publication as is the case here).

I marked five passages, but won't share them for fear of ruining your fun. If you read it, let's chat!

Liking baseball (as I do) is not a prerequisite for reading this book. There are so many different characters beyond the team members. Does one have to be interested in Texas oil to enjoy the TV series Dallas, or in forensic anthropology to enjoy Kathy Reichs' Temperance Brennan book series (or the resultant TV series)? The baseball team just provides a framework.

Overall, the feel is vaguely soap opera–ish. Every character or situation is extreme or overly dramatic. Few, if any, of the characters are especially appealing or sympathy-inducing. There was one character of whom I might have liked to have seen more, though there is a related storyline with different characters.

I was adequately entertained. But this is definitely an audiobook I wish I could have borrowed.

Did they not care about those who had put them in power with blood and sweat? Did they care nothing for their people? Power made men hateful. Power made men forget everyone but themselves. [The Third Day]

The story is quite predictable and somewhat formulaic, but the journey is pleasant. When Albert shows the least bit of attention to others—asking after their loved ones, sometimes sharing advice, and delivering treats—they feel good, he feels good, and relationships blossom. Especially notable supporting characters include Nicole—a black, teenage, single mom to toddler daughter Rini; and neighbor Edith—in her 80s—who used to design costumes for the local theatre. Also appearing are Nicole's boyfriend and his parents, various of Albert's coworkers, a new (and gay) couple in the neighborhood, someone from Edith's past, and a motley crew of people who aid in Albert's quest to find George.

There is an excessive amount of internal dialogue on the part of several characters, which is somewhat awkward and disconcerting. The book is occasionally repetitive, giving an almost-verbatim description of certain characters or situations several times. Simon Vance—who has narrated an incredible number and variety of books—does a fine job on this work (better with male voices than female, but not horrid even with the latter).

Content warnings include homophobia, violence, racism, isolation, emotional abuse from a parent, and death of a beloved pet.

Thank you, NetGalley and RB Media, for the audio ARC of the book in exchange for an honest review. Publication is expected May 31.

Alice and Iris are from wildly different backgrounds and social groups. While neither is thrilled with their forced tutoring arrangement, they find their way to working well together and, eventually, caring for each other. The broad collection of characters all contribute something. Nothing/no one is presented without cause. It makes for a more interesting search for clues in the case.

While the book is targeted at teens, and the tone of the book isn't particularly intense as murder mysteries go, the subject matter (main and subplots) is quite serious, including underage drinking, drug use, and sex; murder; domestic abuse; neglect; poverty; gambling addiction; and corruption. This is noted at the end of the book, and resources for handling some of these issues is provided.

Upon completion, I unexpectedly went breathless and sobbed. I'm not quite sure how much of that strong reaction can be assigned to the book and how much credit is due to the current state of our world on top of a week of woefully insufficient sleep. Either way, I was deeply moved by the story, and tentatively awarded it an even higher rating than the one on which I have settled after some days removed from the experience. The bottom line is that if you are interested and emotionally resilient enough to be immersed in a deeply emotional and powerful story, I would recommend this one. If you aren't up to it (or just plain aren't interested in the plot description), you won't get any shade from me.

Pro: I was cheering for Emilie and Sara throughout the story, hopeful that they would find their way to happiness and fulfillment, individually and together. Rich language, intricate backstories, and adequate character development are present. I was interested in various characters' creativity and skills. Representation includes biracial, lesbian, and bisexual main characters, as well as LGBTQ and multicultural supporting characters. The audio edition is narrated by Julia Whelan.

Con: Content warnings include (but are not necessarily limited to) drug abuse and addiction, including overdose; prostitution, including minors; child neglect (at least); and infidelity.

Thank you, NetGalley and Macmillan Audio, for the audio ARC of the book in exchange for an honest review. Publication is expected May 31.

Law student Hannah joins the Innocence Project at the University of Virginia in order to sabotage the case of a client with whom her alcoholic mother has a bad past—a fact that Hannah learns by reading her mom's secret diary. There is plenty of action propelling the story.

I'm having a hard time deciding how to rate this, as I'm torn between appreciating how well the story kept my attention and being irritated at some of the writing tactics leading to the reveal.

Content warnings include brutal beatings and multiple sexual assaults.

I probably should have bailed fairly early on. When I got to about the 70% mark [Chapter 32, in which Jameela is talking to a leader in the terrorist organization she has tried to infiltrate/been captured by about the (unarguable) harms caused by the American government], I figured I might as well finish it and see if it redeemed itself. It didn't. In Chapter 47 (93%), Jameela meets a social media influencer who tells her “You don't have to be rich or powerful or white to mobilize people and create massive global awareness.” These two examples are about as deep as the narrative gets.

The characters are, generally, horribly unappealing. Jameela is immature and narcissistic (as is a former classmate/rival of Jameela's who is brought into the story multiple times at no benefit to the story or reader). Her husband is portrayed as completely ineffectual. There are a bunch of government agency–types and terrorists who, of course, aren't meant to be positive characters. The closest we get to someone for whom a reader could root are Ibrahim (though he comes off as so very naive that I question his position as a religious leader—where are the wisdom and experience needed to counsel his congregants?) and Jameela's teenage daughter, who is a talented food preparer and caretaker of others (especially those who should be caring for her). Even these two get caught up in/tainted by the ridiculous plot.

For others who like to read with their ears: The narrator has possibly the worst-ever British accent. In terms of how the narrator used her voice to differentiate characters, it was sometimes difficult to understand which character was speaking.

All the heroes of the book are female. The friendships formed between the three members of the Marlow Murder Club—all from different backgrounds—are the main attraction. Tanika, the police detective (I can't remember her exact title) in charge of the case has her work cut out for her—not only leading the investigation and being away from her family extra hours, but also trying to manage the civilians who keep trying to insert themselves. Emma the dog becomes a character of some import.

During the course of the story, among the amateur sleuthing trio, there are secrets revealed, untapped or unrecognized talents emerging, and a fair amount of whiskey drinking.

My favorite quote of the book is in Chapter 8: “If we only did what was wise, nothing would ever get done, would it?” —Judith to Tanika

I liked the mystery of Shara's clues left behind for Chloe, Smith, and Rory, but didn't find Chloe's obsession to the point of risking her academic record plausible. Smith was probably my favorite character in the book, but he could have been developed more. Chloe's best friend, Georgia, could have been better developed, as well.

There is some humor, which helps. In Chapter 10, when Rory and Chloe are on the hunt for clues, Chloe says about Principal Wheeler (Shara's dad), “There’s no way his job is that hard. All he does is cut the arts budget and misinterpret the Bible. How many hours can that possibly take?” The most feel-good part of the book comes at the end in the forms of a reveal about/potential comeuppance for one character and a group grand event.

The fictional story was less compelling. There is little progress made throughout the book, and there's a fair amount of repetition. Some of the side storylines were distracting at worst and unnecessary at best.

Still, I'm glad I read True Biz. I appreciate being given the opportunity to learn about this history and present.

I would have liked more Marcellus. I was slightly frustrated a couple of times when Tova did something counter to achieving the appropriate ending, or Cameron was especially petulant (not attractive on a 30-something). Occasionally I wanted to urge a character to “Get there faster!” Overall, though, it was a charming, warm story.

The audiobook is skillfully narrated by actors Marin Ireland (Sissy in 10 episodes of The Umbrella Academy, among other credits; also a prolific narrator of such books as Hoffman's The Rules of Magic, Wilson's Nothing to See Here, and Backman's Anxious People) and the adorable and fantastic Michael Urie (Marc St. James in 85 episodes of Ugly Betty, among other credits; also narrator of such books as Rowley's Lily and the Octopus and The Editor).

I can see what non-Bowie-fan reviewers are saying about not understanding the appeal of the book. I couldn't read the book without singing the text in my head. Sadly, I can also relate to what Bowie-fan reviewers are saying about the lyrics not translating well to this platform.

So, let's focus on the absolutely delightful and joyous illustrations. People (and quite a few animals) of different ages, skin tones, religions, and cultures move their bodies in a variety of environments. The drawings are so colorful and vivid that one can see and feel the energy and emotion.

There are several reasons Birds of California makes it into the former category.

• There isn't the ridiculous enemies to lovers trope. While Fiona and Sam played siblings on their television show, there was a clear off-screen attraction that wasn't realized fully at the time. That doesn't mean that it's clear sailing for their romance during the course of the story—from the outset, it's clear that Fiona has experienced trauma that stands in the way of getting romantically involved with Sam in the present. [We'll come back to this.]
• The main characters don't fall straight into bed—their romantic relationship is slow to develop. In the meantime, instead of hopping into bed at the drop of a hat, they go to the beach, go out to eat, or talk about books.
• It's funny! In Chapter 4, something is described as being “. . . so long and eclectic it makes the menu at The Cheesecake Factory look like an exercise in restraint.” There's a lot of witty banter, as well (when it doesn't disintegrate into insults).
• There are several appealing supporting characters, including Sam's friend/former roommate, Erin, and Fiona's sister and their elderly next-door neighbor, Estelle. There's also a community theatre troupe that plays a small, but not insignificant role. These characters add interest to the story, and there are substantive interactions between them and the main characters

As for Fiona's trauma, there is more than one source that could have led to her public meltdowns. One is obvious from the beginning. The other—the one that's most to blame for getting in the way of her developing relationship with Sam—is drawn out until the very last few pages of the book. On the one hand, after a while, this made the story drag something fierce. On the other hand, in real life, it legitimately takes a long time to process and deal with trauma. I'm glad I stuck with the story when I started getting impatient with the pace. For some reviewers, that was a deal-breaker.

5-star read

• Everywhere Babies, Susan Meyers & Marla Frazee (Illustrator)

4-star reads

• My Evil Mother, Margaret Atwood
• Pay Dirt Road, Samantha Jayne Allen (4.35)
• One Potato, Tyler Mcmahon
• We Are Better Together, Bill McKibben & Stevie Lewis (Illustrator)
• Playing with Myself, Randy Rainbow (4.35)
• One of Us Is Dead, Jeneva Rose (4.35)

honorable mention (3.5)

• From Hollywood with Love: The Rise and Fall (and Rise Again) of the Romantic Comedy, Scott Meslow
• Suburban Dicks, Fabian Nicieza
• Like a Sister, Kellye Garrett

It's true that the characters are almost all completely despicable. Yet, I was glued to the story. I got to the end and said “Wow!” out loud. I really can't share anything about the plot without spoiling it. So, if you are game for a quick, nasty, trashy drama with a bit of mystery, give this a try.

Content warning: Beyond the expected murder found in most mysteries, there are other acts of violence—including human trafficking—briefly depicted.

The long author's note at the end reveals her personal experience of being bullied when she was 12 years old. Her experience sounds extremely frightening—so violent that she couldn't share all of her experience in this book targeted at middle-schoolers.

Obviously, I am not in the target audience. As always, I'm interested in hearing what you thought of the book, whether or not you're in the target audience, though I'm especially interested in hearing from some tweens about their reading experiences.

The good:

There are moments of comic relief.

There's some timely political and social commentary.

The plot kept me engaged and uncertain for much of the book (though the ending was not a complete surprise to me).

The in-between:

Characters, location, and timeline change frequently. This may be intended to portray things happening simultaneously or in real-time. It was sometimes confusing.

There are several unreliable narrators.

I am left questioning the author's motives on several plot points. He'll make a bold comment on the status quo, and then write a character or situation that seems to invalidate that point.

The bad:

Sexual assault is alluded to many times from early on in the book. Ariel thwarts an attempted attack fairly early on (not the first attack on her), but the violence against women is so pervasive in the book that it's hardly a victory. There is one rape that is so brutally and graphically depicted that it truly gave me pause. What is the value of presenting this extreme violence in such detail? Are readers going to change their viewpoint or understanding of rape because of this description? If so, will they change their behaviors or act in some way to change our culture and legislation? Is this entertainment? Does this add to or distract from the main plotline of John's kidnapping and Ariel's quest to gain his release?

So, I am faced with a rating conundrum. . . . Much of the story would put my rating at at least 4 stars, but the gratuitously graphic rape scenes and the excessive length (leading to some repetition or unnecessary filler material—somewhat surprising in light of one character's well-deserved dig at Charles Dickens early in the book) significantly diminished my overall enjoyment.

Thank you, NetGalley and Macmillan Audio, for the audio ARC of the book in exchange for an honest review. Publication is expected May 24.

Early in this volume, Janetti talks about the importance of The Carol Burnett Show to his childhood (as did Randy Rainbow in his memoir released this week; I loved it as a child, too—I often watched with Granny). Other topics include piano lessons, his sneaky method of getting out of gym class during the football unit, how we contacted friends before texting was a thing, and differences in childrearing between the 1970s and now. A few times, I laughed out loud . . . loud enough for my partner to hear from another room and check on me.

Janetti's narration was inconsistent—sometimes spirited and conversational; often dull, almost robotic. Regardless, the memoir is a quick, fun read.

Thank you, NetGalley and Macmillan Audio, for the audio ARC of the book in exchange for an honest review. Publication is expected April 26.

For what it's worth, I very much liked the narrator. The debut was engaging enough that I expect to read Benson's future work.

On World Book and Copyright Day, especially in uncertain times, we must cherish and defend books as symbols of hope and dialogue.

Books have long embodied the human capacity to conjure up worlds, both real and imagined, giving voice to the diversity of human experience. They help us share ideas, obtain information, and inspire admiration for different cultures, enabling far-reaching forms of dialogue between people across space and time.

In 2022, the Mexican city of Guadalajara is taking up the mantle of World Book Capital, with a year-long programme that focuses on the role of books and reading in triggering social change, combating violence, and building a culture of peace.

On World Book and Copyright Day, UNESCO calls on its partners to share the message that books are a force to address contemporary challenges, to understand political and economic realities, and to combat inequalities and misinformation.

Storytelling is an incredibly effective tool when it comes to educating younger generations. Indeed, books are vital vehicles to access, transmit and promote education, science, culture, and information worldwide. For this reason, every year, on 23 April—a date that marks the departure of three great authors of universal literature, Miguel de Cervantes, William Shakespeare, and Inca Garcilaso de la Vega—we celebrate their captivating power to spark innovation, generate knowledge and change minds.

—https://en.unesco.org/commemorations/worldbookday

Happy World Book Day, my friends! I started my celebration off strong, reading in bed before facing a day of household projects. I'm currently reading Hope and Glory, a debut by British-Nigerian author Jendella Benson. What are you reading and how are you celebrating?

#WorldBookDay #23April #EveryDayIsDebbyBookDay

Why did I read this book today? Because Florida's Walton County School Superintendent Russell Hughesit banned it recently, saying it was “necessary in this moment for me to make that decision and I did it for just a welfare of all involved, including our constituents, our teachers, and our students.”

So, what's the fuss about? You should read it—or have it read to you online—and decide for yourself. To those who ban this (and other) book(s): your ignorance and intolerance are showing—shame on you!

Wednesday 3/9: I recommended the audiobook to my library's Overdrive, subsequently becoming the first one on the hold list. Sweet!

Monday 4/11: I preordered the signed hardcover. [I'm anxiously awaiting its arrival. I can hardly wait to tag (nondestructively, natch!) my audio bookmarks in the hardcover and enjoy them again.]

Monday 4/18: I attended the live virtual book signing that was a benefit of preordering—approximately 45 minutes of RR goodness.

Tuesday 4/19—publication day: My audiobook hold was fulfilled and I started reading.

Wednesday 4/20: I continued to revel in all things RR. The party was over all-too-soon.

Randy Rainbow and I are kindred spirits. Just a few of our similarities include being super-introverted only children of Jewish mothers; our especially close relationships with our maternal grandmothers; and our love of musical theatre, Carol Burnett, color-coded index cards, cats, coffee ice cream, and certain swear words (not necessarily in that order).

Rainbow's memoir is everything this fan expected—funny, warm, self-deprecating, and sincere. His chapter about losing his cat, Mushi, was delivered with emotion. I cried along with him. He does a lot of name-dropping, but one can hardly fault him, considering his meteoric rise to fame. Too, in each case, Rainbow is sharing his delight in meeting and developing relationships with so many people he has admired.

Reading this memoir felt much like hanging out together over coffee, mango margaritas, or martinis. It was comfortable and fun.

I've placed a hold on the print edition from my library so I'll be able to enjoy the illustrations accompanying the text.

Thank you, NetGalley and Macmillan Audio (from Henry Holt and Company), for the audio ARC of the book in exchange for an honest review. Publication is expected April 19.

What I got was a little bit of a lot of things: political and social commentary, GMO debate from both sides, relationships galore (family, friends, enemies, colleagues, romantic, community), tenderness, lots of humor, a little mystery, intrigue, action, war, and suspense.

When the story opens, Eddie is working in his corporate lab on a French fry vending machine. The president of the company demands that he go manage the company's crisis in South America purportedly because he speaks Spanish. Eddie doesn't realize until departure that a journalist/blogger, Raven, is accompanying him. Through the course of the story, we meet a big cast of characters, each contributing something to the adventure.

The book was a nonstop comedy of errors—never dull. I greatly enjoyed the ride.

Thank you, NetGalley and Dreamscape Media, for the audio ARC of the book—even after publication day of April 12—in exchange for an honest review.

The set-up progressed slowly. Much of the book was low-key. The action and excitement are limited to quite a short time near the story's conclusion. When the pace finally picks up, it's a big escalation.

I especially liked Peter's relationship with his dog, Pippin; the fact that Peter and his wife, Laura, are introverts (noting that she is a more social introvert than he); that Laura is a professional knitter; and that there are LGBTQ representation, discussion of nonbinary pronouns, and characters from multiple countries/cultures. It's not important to the story, but the fact that Peter and Laura play the cooperative board game Pandemic tickled me. We were introduced to it by Number One Son and Darling-In-Law, who received it from dear friends as a creative wedding gift.

Thank you, NetGalley and ECW Press Audio, for the audio ARC of the book in exchange for an honest review. Publication is expected April 19.

Right out of the gate, the story is told with rich, descriptive language. The author didn't waste a minute starting to develop the characters and their relationships, without being longwinded, boring, or tedious. Family (close and extended), friends, coworkers, and townsfolk are all fully created and interconnected in both expected and surprising ways. Story elements were well-conceived as well, leading to a satisfying and comprehensive ending.

The violence level wasn't exceedingly graphic or unrelenting for the genre. However, content warnings include murder; alcohol abuse, including by minors; use of date-rape drugs; sexual assault, including involving minors.

Thank you, NetGalley and RB Media, for the audio ARC of the book in exchange for an honest review. Publication is expected April 19.

There are many secondary and lower level characters, including Lena's elderly aunt with whom she lives, Desiree's best friend/social media influencer buddy, a reporter, a former partner/current rival of Lena's dad's, a classmate of Lena's, hotel staff, and so many more. Similarly, there are also quite a few candidates for Desiree's murderer. It was interesting to follow Lena's thought-process during her investigation.

I picked up this book because Greer comes up in From Hollywood with Love.

In addition to so many romantic comedies that readily come to mind, Meslow brings up a few that I wouldn't have placed in the genre. Even better—and more importantly—there are several essays that discuss institutional racism in Hollywood and the unequal treatment of women actors.

4 (or more)-star reads

• Being Mortal, Atul Gawande (reread)
• The Book of Cold Cases, Simone St. James
• Good Night, Good Night, Sandra Boynton (4.66)
• The Recovery Agent, Janet Evanovich

honorable mention

• Citizen K-9 (The K Team #3), David Rosenfelt (3.5)
• The Night Shift, Alex Finlay (3.5)
• The Thursday Murder Club, Richard Osman (3.5)
• Frogkisser!, Garth Nix (3.5)

Where’s the dinner? Where’s the dancing? Where’s the freaking romance? They’re just going to get right down to it in chapter one?

I'm giving Heidi a slight rating boost because of the abundance of humor, including reference to the four seasons in Minnesota: winter, more winter, still more winter, and that one day of summer. That sounds a lot like the Chicago area, doesn't it?

As expected, content warnings include explicit sex and mature language.

Content warnings: explicit sex; swearing

Enter Evanovich's new series, with protagonist Gabriela Rose. There are some similarities and parallels to the Plum series: Gabriela's mom and grandmother are characters; Gabriela has an assistant in place of Stephanie's sidekick, Lula; Gabriela's sizzle is with ex-husband, Rafer, with whom she grew up (and has a long history, like Stephanie has with boyfriend, Morelli); both Gabriela and Stephanie come from working-class families.

I enjoyed the gear—it's not James Bond–level (which she mentions), but it's still cool and useful—and the travel aspect of the story.

I will gladly read the next installment.

This book puts me in the mood to rewatch The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel, which isn't a mystery, but features a cast of retirees.

The audio edition I read included author Marian Keyes interviewing author Richard Osman. Keyes notes that while there are the four main characters, she counted 20 meaningful characters in the book. Later in the interview Osman commented that he wants the world to be a better place. He also mentioned his writing philosophy of “Show, don't tell.”

Despite the weirdness of post-bath and clean pajamas exercising, this expanded story is still a delightful bedtime story. From memory (that is, it's been at least a couple decades since I read the board book regularly), additions include a spread in which the animals all pile into their gigantic bed and a spread in which a lullaby is sung by the rabbits.

I was disappointed at Carmen's reluctance to stand up for herself and her justification of certain men's actions.

On the whole, the book is somewhat drawn-out, slow, and tedious. The writing was occasionally awkward. Still, I'm not sorry that I read it—it was a nice taste of something a little bit different.

I like that so many of the characters from the 1970s played a part in the present. That may have been the case in the other two books, as well; but, I perceive that there was more cross-timeline participation in this book.

As in the other books, St. James didn't surprise me with the major twists. Again, the storytelling was engaging enough that I didn't mind terribly. Also like the others, relationship-building is strong in this book.

If you like a mystery that spans generations—and are willing to tolerate a limited amount of ghost story, even if you're not a big fan—give this one a try. I'll keep reading this author, including going into the backlist.

Bad Actors is occasionally funny (I didn't find it as all-out hilarious as did the series' true fans). It takes place post-Brexit and post–COVID-19. The level of description was tedious to read—the book was really a trudge until the short, exciting scene at the end. It might translate well to a TV serial, so I plan to watch the Apple TV+ series Slow Horses starring Gary Oldman as Jackson Lamb (streaming starting this coming Friday!). The preview made me laugh out loud and looks potentially exciting.

Thank you, NetGalley and RB Media, for the audio ARC of the book in exchange for an honest review. Publication is expected May 10.

I didn’t love any of the major characters. The story felt slow and tedious. Both Greta and her dad are resistant to healing individually or collectively.

My favorite part of the story, by far, was Prithi, whose name means “love” or “satisfaction”—a tween girl who captures Greta's attention on the cruise. If only she had been a greater part of the story. . . .

Content warnings: multiple explicit sex scenes; drug use

While Dan's gaslighting of his wife is clear from the outset, it takes a while for Lucy to recognize it (after which she brings it up at every narrative opportunity). With Lucy being the breadwinner of the relationship, some of the plot points were completely implausible. As Lucy is purportedly a bestselling mystery writer, I didn't buy most of her behaviors and reactions, either. I suppose the reader is expected to chalk up the unexpected behaviors to Lucy's childhood trauma being summoned by Dan's gaslighting.

There isn't a single likeable character. Everybody gets to be a suspect. The conclusion was mildly interesting, but seemed like a cheap surprise tactic, as opposed to a well-developed plot point that the reader could have intuited by the clues revealed throughout the story.

So, my bookish friends, if you just can't resist a gaslighting romantic partner, give this book a try. To most mystery lovers, I'd say you could skip this one.

My review then was as follows:

Sometimes difficult, fascinating, thoughtful discussion about facing our mortality and making each day of life its best (whatever that means). I think this is a must-read. Tom and I have been discussing it as I've read. We have lots to think about (individually and collectively).

I chose to reread the book in order to serve as moderator of two discussion groups for my League of Women Voters chapter. Other members seemed appreciative of the book choice. Most were reading for the first time.

Rereading the book nearly seven years later (having added life experiences), and discussing it with others, brought serious concerns and questions to my mind. I've worked on and thought about this review multiple times over several days, laboring over how to express these concerns. Maybe I'll boil it down to this for now: In the USA, being able to take advantage of many (maybe even most) of the end-of-life care choices in this book is reserved for a privileged few. Skilled nursing and assisted living facilities are extremely expensive, across the quality spectrum. The same goes for being hospitalized, needing prescription medicines, and needing outpatient procedures, of course. Despite these extreme costs to the consumer (all of us), many healthcare workers are paid woefully little. Until health and welfare outcomes are more important to our society than corporate profit, the tremendous disparities in our systems will never be repaired. [The same goes for all of our social issues: housing, education, etc.]

My rating of the book remains unchanged.

I liked this installment more than the first. It's funnier, more sarcastic (if memory serves), has a more interesting mystery, and includes more appearances by Simon. There are quite a few characters, making it fun to guess who is really involved and who is a red herring. I like the relationships among the team members (Corey, Laurie, and Marcus), and with their extended colleagues and their respective romantic partners.

Based on this book, I am considering not only reading the second installment in this series, but also reading more of Rosenfelt's work (including a series in which Laurie's husband—a lawyer—is the main character).

Thank you, NetGalley, Macmillan Audio, and Minotaur Books, for the audio ARC of the book in exchange for an honest review. Publication is expected March 15.

As I did for Foley's The Guest List, I'm giving The Paris Apartment a tiny rating bump for being somewhat twisty. However, I thought these twists were easier to anticipate. I may continue to read Foley's mysteries if they come to my attention, but not to be in a mad rush to get my hands on them, especially if it means hogging a precious spot on my severely limited digital audio hold list.

4 (or more)-star reads

• Finlay Donovan Knocks 'Em Dead (Finlay Donovan #2), Elle Cosimano
• Snacking Cakes: Simple Treats for Anytime Cravings, Yossy Arefi
• Made In Scotland: My Grand Adventures in a Wee Country, Billy Connolly
• We Were Kings, Court Stevens (4.66)

honorable mention

• The Book of Magic (Practical Magic #2), Alice Hoffman (3.66)
• The Power of Regret: How Looking Backward Moves Us Forward, Daniel H. Pink (3.5)
• When You Get the Chance, Emma Lord (3.66)
• Mr. Watson's Chickens, Jarrett Dapier, Andrea Tsurumi (Illustrator) (3.5)
• Dear Librarian, Lydia M. Sigwarth, Romina Galotta (Illustrator) (3.5)
• Stargazer, Anne Hillerman (3.5)
• The June Boys, Court Stevens (3.5)

This story is also quite twisty, which I enjoy. Thea has a lot of emotional and physical support from friends and family members. While they offer a window to his state of mind during captivity, I haven't decided how I feel about the Elizabeth Letters written by Aulus and interspersed in the storytelling.

If my glowing review of We Were Kings didn't result in you dropping everything to read it immediately, I'd recommend reading The June Boys first and enjoying it on its own merits.

Still, Robinson has a lot to say, much of which I appreciate or admire. Here are a couple sections that were particularly impactful or interesting to me:

Show us it bothers you by behaving differently. Act as if you understand that inclusiveness is what feminism should have been about since day one, and not because you're hoping you're going to get a pat on the back for doing what you should have done in the first place. OK? [31%]

130 million girls are not in school, and it has been proven that a lack of education is directly linked to the worldwide extreme poverty crisis. So, Poverty Is Sexist was created to not only raise awareness, but to encourage people to be active in eradicating gender inequality and put pressure on world leaders to fully invest in women and girls. [59%]

Pro: woman in position of power in male-dominated field; varied family and friend relationships however challenging; interesting tidbits and discussion about farming and GMO; lots of storyline connections

Con: above-noted powerful woman not being treated with respect; brutally graphic descriptions of corpses and cannibalism; rape in present and in flashback

The unrelenting over-concentration on rape and murder detracted from the main plot severely. It would have been a much more interesting and manageable book without the extreme level of brutality.

The dog wasn’t really a prominent character in this book, which seems odd given the book and series titles and covers. Nothing stuck with me about the story, even just a few days later. The general feel is of an old-time gumshoe mystery. The narrator of the audio edition gives Corey an appropriately hard-boiled/tough voice. There is some friction—or at least ribbing—among the characters who contribute to the team's work, but they still band together to get the job done.

I read this knowing that I had a NetGalley advance reader copy of the third series installment upcoming. See that review on 5 March 2022.

I especially loved the illustrations on the spread about the librarian reading a book about princesses to the author. In it, Lydia, wearing a princess cap, is protecting a dragon from Debra's sword.

The author's letter at the end talks about homelessness affecting around 2.5 million children every year. The care given by the librarian to the author when she was experiencing homelessness as a child is just one example of the many ways that librarians and libraries materially support their communities.

As soon as I finished reading, I ordered a signed hardcover from Parnassus (one of my favorite sources of signed books). I will definitely look for more by this author.

The audiobook wasn't in Billy's delightful Scottish voice, but was delivered in the delightful Scottish voice of Gordon Gilbert Kennedy, a Scottish actor, presenter, and narrator.

Pro: Molly's true friends, the conclusion

Con: Molly's complete inability to read social cues and her constant Gran-isms

The recipes are meant to be so easy to make that you can have cake every day, using ingredients you probably already have in your kitchen, a single bowl (no mixer required), and a square pan (though options are given for some cakes).

My first (and only thus far) attempt was the Chocolate-Almond Olive Oil Cake with Raspberries. We didn't have almond flour in the house (we do now; we could have substituted additional all-purpose flour) and we bought fresh raspberries, as they don't last long. The cake was much less sweet than what we're accustomed to, but that's not a bad thing. It's the first cake I've made with olive oil—at first it tasted a little bit strange/different, but it wasn't unpleasant and we adjusted to it quickly. It's also my first time baking with a bit of almond flour.

I baked on Tuesday, February 8. We taste-tested that night before bed, froze a couple of pieces for Valentine's Day (we ended up not pulling them out because we baked a giant carrot layer cake days later for my birthday), and stuck the rest in the fridge to pick at during the week. The cake tasted good cold from the fridge. We'll have to see how the frozen pieces turn out. Hopefully we won't forget about them.

I absolutely love that measurements are listed both in cups (volume) and grams (weight). For everything except tiny measurements (spoons), I prefer measuring by weight.

Don't believe the author's assertion that you'll have the batter mixed before the oven preheats—she must either have an assistant or gather and measure all the ingredients before starting. Still, it was easy to make and quite tasty. I'm looking forward to trying more of the recipes. To that end, I ended up buying the e-book for myself. The notes I had made in my borrowed book transferred to my purchased book automatically.

The battle-of-the-summer-interns and rival-turned-romantic-partner aspects were predictable, of course. Millie was too much for some reviewers: she's a bit loud, dramatic, and immature. I thought it fitting for her character type and age. The end was a little too “happily ever after,” but who doesn't need that occasionally?

Content warnings include child abandonment; little, if any, bad language; nothing steamier than kissing.

Representation includes an Asian family and LGBTQ family members and friends.

Content warnings include sexual assault of minors; drug abuse, including suicide by overdose; and child abandonment.

This is an example of how dangerous it is for publishers and others to constantly compare new books to other books (in this case, The Secret Life of Bees). I so often find that when such comparisons are made—especially to a really popular and well-received book—I am disappointed.

I wish there were more installments ready to read.

I purchased the Kindle version of the book and borrowed the audio edition from the library—this is definitely a type of book that I like to read with my ears and eyes concurrently. I highlighted 34 bookmarks from the audio into my e-book.

In typical Pink fashion, the different types of regret are described [“Nearly all regrets fall into four core categories—foundation regrets, boldness regrets, moral regrets, and connections regrets.” (14)], and he discusses whether/how regrets can be fixed (or if they can serve, at least, to improve future decision-making).

To me, the most interesting part was a discussion of what can be gleaned from the results of the American Regret Project survey based on age, gender, race, or education level of the respondents.

• Book 1 published in 1995—I read in 2007 [no star rating available (bookish app I was using at the time suddenly went belly-up), but I recollect liking it a lot]
• Book 0.2 published in 2017—I read in 2019 [4 stars]
• Book 0.1 published in 2020—I haven't read yet
• Book 2 published in 2021—I read in 2022 (current review)

So, I read the series, with the exception of one installment, in publication order.

In this (apparently final) installment, I was frustrated trying to keep up with the family connections—there are too many generations and/or it's been too long since the last chronological installment to keep everyone straight. By the end of the book, I had either caught up or didn't care that much.

The importance of reading and libraries is a running theme throughout the book.

I liked that the family came together to save one member. Too, the various relationships—within and outside of the family—were well-developed.

Obviously, I enjoyed the book quite a bit. Still, I don't perceive that I liked it as much as the two other installments I've read. However, that could just be a gut feeling. Sometime that I have a chunk time to devote and I'm in the mood, I hope to (re)read the entire series in chronological order. I'll be interested to see what my feelings are after that experience.

If you like fantasy, magical realism, magic, witches and/or love stories, you might enjoy this series, including this finale.

4-star reads

• Finlay Donovan Is Killing It, Elle Cosimano
• An Abolitionist's Handbook: 12 Steps to Changing Yourself and the World, Patrisse Khan-Cullors
• Burnout: The Secret to Unlocking the Stress Cycle, Emily Nagoski & Amelia Nagoski
• Blackout, Dhonielle Clayton, Tiffany D. Jackson, Nic Stone, Angie Thomas, Ashley Woodfolk, Nicola Yoon
• Devil's Chew Toy, Rob Osler (4.35)
• The Chase, Candice Fox
• Go Back to Where You Came From: And Other Helpful Recommendations on How to Become an American, Wajahat Ali (4.35)

honorable mention

• Minimum Wage Magic, Rachel Aaron (3.66)
• Here's to Us (What If It's Us #2), Becky Albertalli & Adam Silvera (3.5)
• The Last Chance Library, Freya Sampson (3.5)
• Love in the Library, Maggie Tokuda-Hall & Yas Imamura (Illustrator) (3.5)
• How We Can Win: Race, History and Changing the Money Game That's Rigged, Kimberly Jones (3.5)
• Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life, Anne Lamott (reread; 3.5)

If one is not an aspiring writer (I, most often, am not), one might wonder if there is benefit to reading Bird by Bird. I'd say, “Maybe.” That's where the subtitle and memoir portions come in—some instructions on life. Lamott has some ideas and preferences that will be off-putting to some. I will remind you and myself that we can take what works for us and leave the rest.

The book (nearly) ends on this note:

Writing and reading decrease our sense of isolation. They deepen and widen and expand our sense of life: they feed the soul. [237]

The audio edition is superbly narrated by Susan C. Bennett, the original voice of SIRI.

The book opens with several examples of racist comments strangers have hurled at the author, along with his responses (often attempting to diffuse the situation with humor). Here's an example:

“You are just a parasite!”

“Thank you! Parasites get a bad rep. But, did you know that some of us actually help protect the host from infection, diseases, and ailments? In the case of America, we protect this country from eating bland food, doing manual labor, competing in spelling competitions, driving around New York City, engineering, performing their own surgeries, economic collapse, and making fools out of themselves when they attempt to wear a sari without guidance.” [Introduction]

I flagged quite a few sections for later review and reflection, right through the Acknowledgments at the end. I don't want to share additional quotes here, though—I want you to discover them on your own.

The book is a funny, warm, savvy, sad, smart combination of memoir and social/political commentary. I hope and trust that this won't be my last exposure to Mr. Ali.

Claude is an appealing character. He has strong relationships with his guardians—his grandmother and her longtime live-in friend Paul (who is gay)—and his friends. Very early in the story, Paul's romantic partner has the following touching interchange with Claude.

“What are you going to do when you're married?” Teeth asked me.

“Go on adventures,” I said.

The bulk of the book is, unsurprisingly, less sweet and more heartbreaking: systemic racism, violence, and the continuing battle for civil rights. Even after Claude leaves the South Side for university, he can't escape. The conclusion feels somewhat sudden, but is moving.

The audio edition has two narrators: Lisa Negron and David de Vries. Negron's reading was almost entirely monotonous, which made it harder to enjoy and follow the story. I don't tend to look for particular narrators' work—that is, my reading choices are based on topic and author, generally. An excellent or poor narrator will sometimes color my purchase choices or even my borrowing choices, if my choices are plentiful. David de Vries' narration was quite good, for both male and female voices.

This is my first experience with this author. I will gladly read her work again. The story was engaging. Once I was involved, I didn't want to stop reading.

Content warnings include violence, racism, homophobia, and misogyny. The book didn't strike me as gratuitously violent—it's probably in line with what most mystery and thriller readers encounter regularly.

Thank you, NetGalley, Macmillan Audio, and Forge Books, for the audio ARC of the book in exchange for an honest review. Publication is expected March 8.

There is excellent diversity in the cast, including characters who are LGBTQ, of color, and of varying generations and walks of life. In addition to the characters mentioned in the publisher blurb, Hayden's neighbor, Sarah Lee; Hayden's Aunt Sally; Sally's elderly neighbor, Jerry; and Camilo's bull terrier, Commando; make notable appearances.

There's considerable character development, without getting tedious, and significant relationships are formed. Several social and racial justice issues are also important to the story. There's a lot of humor. There's a terrific twist at the end.

My reading experience was so thoroughly enjoyable that I hope this will be the first of a long series!

Thank you, NetGalley and Dreamscape Media, for the audio ARC of the book in exchange for an honest review. Publication is expected February 8.

A young congressman discovers a mysterious stuffed aardvark on his doorstep and sets out on a rip-roaring journey to find out what it means.

It's early one morning on a hot day in August, and millennial congressman Alexander Paine Wilson (R), planning his first reelection campaign and in deep denial about his sexuality, receives a mysterious, over-sized FedEx delivery on his front stoop. Inside is a gigantic taxidermied aardvark.

This outrageous, edge-of-your-seat novel hurtles between contemporary Washington, DC, where Wilson tries to get rid of the unsightly beast before it destroys his career, and Victorian England—where we meet Titus Downing, the taxidermist who stuffed the aardvark, and Richard Ostlet, the naturalist who hunted her. Our present world, we begin to see, has been shaped in profound and disturbing ways by the secret that binds these men. [from the publisher]

The publisher's blurb tells all you need to know before starting this novella. I first started reading this in an airport, but quickly found I couldn't focus on it. The story is chaotic enough on its own—it's probably best not to add personal chaos to your reading. I'm glad I gave it another shot—sometimes a short farce is needed.

I've read and enjoyed books written by Angie Thomas and Nic Stone in the past. This collection exposed me to other authors I may want to read in the future.

Before I go on, I have to share that one of my Goodreads friends labeled this a self care book. I like it! It gives me the sense that it's a more continuous process instead of a “one and done.”

Right out of the gate, the authors note that “Dealing with your stress is a separate process from dealing with the things that cause your stress. To deal with your stress, you have to complete the cycle.” [4] While physical activity is the most effective way to complete the stress response cycle, the authors offer several other viable options for those who won't or can't engage in strenuous physical activity. The content of the book goes well beyond this list—I pretty heavily tagged up the print edition. A section that particularly stood out to me was the importance of rest and sleep (Chapter 7: What Makes You Stronger). First, according to this book, science says that 42 percent of our time is what is required to achieve “adequate” rest (including but not limited to sleep, which requires eight hours, give or take an hour)—that's roughly 10 hours a day. Further, toward the end of the chapter, they state,

Sleep is a racial justice issue as well as a gender issue, a class issue, and a basic public health issue. [184]

Detractors of the book (like the Old Me may have been) complain that men also experience toxic stress and that the book bashes The Patriarchy excessively. The authors acknowledge that men experience some of the things addressed in the book, but the book is clearly targeted at/marketed to women. When The Patriarchy is mentioned in the book, it is followed by “Ugh.” This was amusing in the audio edition. I didn't read the entire print edition with my eyes (just the sections I needed to tag to correspond to my audio bookmarks), so I can't say how often it appeared or how others would react to it in print (obviously). The book is written conversationally, which clearly irritated some readers. I, for one, can say that because I'm burned-out, I appreciated a bit of levity and straight talk. Take what works for you; leave the rest.

After inheriting her mother’s fortune-telling business as a young woman, Imelda Burova has spent her life on the Brighton pier practicing her trade. She and her trusty pack of Tarot cards have seen the lovers and the liars, the angels and the devils, the dreamers and the fools. Now, after a lifetime of keeping other people’s secrets, Madam Burova is ready to have a little piece of life for herself. But she still has one last thing to do—to fulfill a promise made in the 1970s, when she and her girlfriends were carefree, with their whole lives still before them.

In London, it is time for another woman to make a fresh start. Billie has lost her university job, her marriage, and her place in the world when a sudden and unlikely discovery leaves her very identity in question. Determined to find answers, she must follow a trail . . . which leads to Brighton, the pier, and directly to Madame Burova’s door.

In a story spanning over fifty years, Ruth Hogan has conjured a magical world of 1970s holiday camps and seaside entertainers, eccentrics, heroes and villains, the lost and the found. [from the publisher]

When Billie's father dies (predeceased by her mother), she finds out that she was adopted. Chapters set in the 1970s and in the present are used to bring the story together.

Strangely, a couple of plot points were repeated almost verbatim at different times in the book (but in the same part of the story—that is, either in the 1970s or the present). I had to check where I was to make sure I hadn't accidentally gone considerably backwards in the book. Too, it seems like the progress is quite slow. In the 1970s chapters, we know who is the object of Burova's romantic desire and what challenges the couple faces. We hear pretty much the same thing in every 1970s chapter. In the present-day chapters, we know that Billie is anxious to discover the truth about her birth parents; but the steps she takes to discover the truth seem to be drawn out painfully. There are a couple of storylines that were probably inserted to draw out the suspense of Billie's parentage. Unfortunately, some of the additional characters/their stories are boring and don't add anything positive to the story—it just seems like padding.

After an entire book of Burova repeating constantly that she promised she wouldn't reveal Billie's mother's identity to anyone, another character shows up at the very end and spills the beans off-page to someone other than Billie—we don't even get to experience firsthand Billie's reaction to this news we've collectively awaited. It was anticlimactic and unsatisfying. Similarly, there's a closure of sorts for Burova's love story that is sudden and pat.

Overall, the story was uninspiring. The desirable characters need more development and page-time, the plot needs more movement, and there shouldn't be so much repetition. I'm in the minority with this title and author (I've read one other book of hers). I find her on the dull side.

“So if I played four hundred rounds of Monopoly with you and I had to play and give you every dime that I made, and then for fifty years, every time that I played, if you didn't like what I did, you got to burn it like they did in Tulsa and like they did in Rosewood, how can you win? How can you win?”

When Kimberly Jones declared these words amid the protests spurred by the murder of George Floyd, she gave a history lesson that in just over six minutes captured the economic struggles of Black people in America. Within days the video had been viewed by millions of people around the world, riveted by Jones’s damning—and stunningly succinct—analysis of the enduring disparities Black Americans face.

In How We Can Win, Jones delves into the impacts of systemic racism and reveals how her formative years in Chicago gave birth to a lifelong devotion to justice. Here, in a vital expansion of her declaration, she calls for Reconstruction 2.0, a multilayered plan to reclaim economic and social restitutions—those restitutions promised with emancipation but blocked, again and again, for more than 150 years. And, most of all, Jones delivers strategies for how we can effect change as citizens and allies while nurturing ourselves—the most valuable asset we have—in the fight against a system that is still rigged. [from the publisher]

I've read two (mostly) how-to activist handbooks in a row now. This one focuses on the economic impacts of slavery and policies that created and entrenched systemic racism in the United States. The book is part history, part commentary, and part guidebook.

Jones shares economic history that all of us should know but likely haven't been taught during our formal education: the impact of the free labor of enslaved people on agriculture in the South and textiles in the North, inherited wealth in white families, the Freedman's Savings Bank, the War on Drugs, the GI Bill, redlining, the prison industrial complex/criminalization of poverty, and more. She uses the game of Monopoly to illustrate how Blacks have been excluded repeatedly from opportunities to thrive and build wealth and how they can't possibly catch up under current conditions. Toward the end of the book, the author gives some guidelines on how to make improvements, individually and collectively: time use, banking/spending/saving, getting help (including through taxpayer-supported agencies), and education. Perhaps most compelling are her thoughts on Reconstruction 2.0, restitution, and the need for a truth and reconciliation process.

The book is somewhat repetitive and occasionally anecdotal, neither of which should deter anyone from reading and absorbing the otherwise quality content.

Thank you, NetGalley, Macmillan Audio, and Henry Holt and Company, for the audio ARC of the book in exchange for an honest review. Publication is expected January 18.

[I read and rated highly Jones' YA novel coauthored with Gilly Segal—I'm Not Dying with You Tonight—in November 2019.]

In An Abolitionist's Handbook, Cullors charts a framework for how everyday activists can effectively fight for an abolitionist present and future. Filled with relatable pedagogy on the history of abolition, a reimagining of what reparations look like for Black lives and real-life anecdotes from Cullors An Abolitionist's Handbook, offers a bold, innovative, and humanistic approach to how to be a modern-day abolitionist. Cullors asks us to lead with love, fierce compassion, and precision.

In An Abolitionist's Handbook listeners will learn how to:

• have courageous conversations
• move away from reaction and towards response
• take care of oneself while fighting for others
• turn inter-community conflict into a transformative action
• expand one’s imagination, think creatively, and find the courage to experiment
• make justice joyful
• practice active forgiveness
• make space for difficult feelings and honor mental health
• practice non-harm and cultivate compassion
• organize local and national governments to work towards abolition
• move away from cancel culture

An Abolitionist's Handbook is for those who are looking to reimagine a world where communities are treated with dignity, care and respect. It gives us permission to move away from cancel culture and into visioning change and healing. [from the publisher]

The handbook covers a lot in a little space. In some ways, this might seem like it's doing a disservice to the subject matter. On the other hand, it could be seen as a good overview of what's involved in this kind of movement work. I'm leaning toward the latter.

As the author writes early in the book, it isn't intended to be a one-time read. I'd add that while I appreciated being able to read with my ears initially (a format that I find especially effective and manageable for most books), this is a book that I would like to consume both in audio and in print (and more than once for both formats).

In each section, Cullors offers questions to consider and suggestions for additional resources—extremely helpful.

The narrator—Ariel Blake—was excellent. The audio ARC included a bonus interview between the author and fellow activist and writer adrienne maree brown.

Thank you, NetGalley, Macmillan Audio, and St. Martin's Press, for the audio ARC of the book in exchange for an honest review. Publication is expected January 25.

[I read, enjoyed, appreciated, and rated highly Cullors' memoir—When They Call You a Terrorist—in 2018.]

Something is happening to teenagers across America, spreading through memes only they can parse.

At the Float Anxiety Abatement Center, in a suburb of Chicago, Simon Oliver is trying to recover from his sister’s tragic passing. He breaks out to join a woman named Louise and a man called The Prophet on a quest as urgent as it is enigmatic. Who lies at the end of the road? A man known as The Wizard, whose past encounter with Louise sparked her own collapse. Their quest becomes a rescue mission when they join up with a man whose sister is being held captive by the Wizard, impregnated and imprisoned in a tower. [from the publisher]

After rating Hawley's Before the Fall (published in 2016) 4 stars in 2019, I was anxious to read his latest novel as soon as possible. I thought several times during my reading that I should bail—not because it's dark, disturbing, and brutally violent (which it is), but because it's too close to our reality. The novel's action takes place very shortly after the pandemic (I'm glad the author thinks we'll be through with this in the near future—ha!), and makes frequent mentions to the Party of Truth and the Party of Lies (both parties think they're the Truth and their opponents are the Lies), the isolation of the pandemic, anti-maskers, anti-vaxxers, the Capitol insurrection, the opioid crisis (and a company/owner who profited), human trafficking, and so on. If all that isn't enough, a major thread involves a rash of suicides among young people. So, if you're sensitive to pretty much any topic whatsoever, this is not a book for your entertainment.

When I finished reading, I admitted to my partner that I sort of wanted him to read it, too. It's not that I want him to suffer—I just want someone to share the experience . . . and maybe discuss it with me. If you read it, please chat with me afterward.

The book is running the gamut on ratings. I don't think I'm alone in not being sure how to rate it. On its literary merit? On the reader's enjoyment? Something else?

To celebrate their engagement, DCI Arthur St. Just and Portia De’Ath visit the quiet village of Maidsfell in Cornwall. Upon arriving they find the villagers in an uproar over plans to redevelop the local seafront.

The fishermen want to build a new slipway to aid their business, but many residents worry it will spoil the view for the tourists who help drive the economy. After a heated village meeting on the issue, St. Just overhears an argument involving Lord Bodwally—an unpopular aristocrat staunchly opposed to the plans. Later, Bodwally’s lifeless body is discovered. It’s murder.

Although Bodwally was disliked, who’d go so far as to kill him? St. Just, although an outsider from Cambridge, feels compelled to help local authorities investigate. Is Bodwally’s death linked to the seafront, his suspect business dealings, or a secret from the past? One thing is certain, the fallout threatens to change Maidsfell forever. . . . [from the publisher]

While this is my first, it is the fourth in a series. As far as I can tell, I was not at a disadvantage in not having read the first three. The story is a typical cozy mystery, with plenty of local color and red herrings. I learned a few interesting tidbits, but I won't share them with you for fear of spoiling the story.

The female narrator's male voices made those characters sound angry most of the time, which was off-putting and confusing. This gave me a different sense of DCI St. Just's character and relationships than what I had gleaned/expected from other reviewers.

Thank you, NetGalley and Dreamscape Media, for the audio ARC of the book in exchange for an honest review. Publication is expected January 18.

To fall in love is already a gift. But to fall in love in a place like Minidoka, a place built to make people feel like they weren’t human—that was miraculous

After the bombing of Pearl Harbor, Tama is sent to live in a War Relocation Center in the desert. All Japanese Americans from the West Coast—elderly people, children, babies—now live in prison camps like Minidoka. To be who she is has become a crime, it seems, and Tama doesn’t know when or if she will ever leave. Trying not to think of the life she once had, she works in the camp’s tiny library, taking solace in pages bursting with color and light, love and fairness. And she isn’t the only one. George waits each morning by the door, his arms piled with books checked out the day before. As their friendship grows, Tama wonders: Can anyone possibly read so much? Is she the reason George comes to the library every day? Maggie Tokuda-Hall’s elegant and true love story about her grandparents for listeners of all ages sheds light on a shameful chapter of American history. [from the publisher]

From my initial reading, the author's note at the end is more compelling than the story itself. I'm looking forward to reading it again—with my eyes—and I've already placed a hold at the library for the print edition. In any event, the subject matter is important. I hope books like this will continue to be written and read . . . and gain a wider audience.

Thank you, NetGalley and Dreamscape Media, for the audio ARC of the book in exchange for an honest review. Publication is expected January 11.

Finlay Donovan is killing it . . . except, she’s really not. A stressed-out single mom of two and struggling novelist, Finlay’s life is in chaos: The new book she promised her literary agent isn’t written; her ex-husband fired the nanny without telling her; and this morning she had to send her four-year-old to school with hair duct-taped to her head after an incident with scissors.

When Finlay is overheard discussing the plot of her new suspense novel with her agent over lunch, she’s mistaken for a contract killer and inadvertently accepts an offer to dispose of a problem husband in order to make ends meet. She soon discovers that crime in real life is a lot more difficult than its fictional counterpart, as she becomes tangled in a real-life murder investigation. [from the publisher]

If I had been wearing pearls when I start reading this book, I would have clutched them. I'm pretty sure I uttered, “Oh, my!” once or twice. Ultimately, I thoroughly enjoyed this wacky, action-packed comedy of errors. There's a full cast of contributing characters, including Finlay's cop sister (and a colleague of hers), Finlay's ex-husband (and his bitchy real-estate-agent fiancée), Russian mobsters, a hot young law student/bartender, a nosy neighbor, and nanny Vero (who becomes Finlay's partner-in-crime).

I wish this had crossed my radar sooner so I would have been better prepared for the sequel, which comes out early in February—the hold list is so long already that I might have to buy the second installment.

At least I learned something: In the 1930s, the state of Nevada dropped its residency requirements to qualify for divorce to only six weeks, and women flocked to ranches in Reno (especially) to get pampered while they waited. This tourism helped bolster the state's economy during and after the Great Depression.

That's the setting of this story, which is told, in retrospect, in a conversational manner by Ward, a handsome, young ranch hand. Most of the story revolves around two ranch guests: Nina, a third-time guest, and Emily, who has a teenaged daughter and a cheating husband. Early on, there are a few sassy quips from some of the guests, which is why I was hopeful that this book would break my HF curse.

Lonely librarian June Jones has never left the sleepy English village where she grew up. Shy and reclusive, the thirty-year-old would rather spend her time buried in books than venture out into the world. But when her library is threatened with closure, June is forced to emerge from behind the shelves to save the heart of her community and the place that holds the dearest memories of her mother.

To save the place and the books that mean so much to her, June must finally make some changes to her life. For once, she's determined not to go down without a fight. And maybe, in fighting for her cherished library, June can save herself, too. [from the publisher]

To save their beloved library, dedicated patrons start a group called FOCL (Friends of Chalcot Library; pronounced like an obscene phrase), which June has been forbidden to join by the local council. June tries to help on the sly, in hopes of avoiding getting fired.

I always promise myself that I'm not going to read more books set in bookshops and libraries, because they're so often disappointing. Apparently, though, I can't help myself. This one was pleasantly surprising—there was a nice mix of social justice and community-building/character development. The problem of public library funding cuts is real and severe, worldwide. Not everyone understands or appreciates how critical public libraries are to the health/welfare of individuals and the strength of communities.

Pantomime season is in full swing on the pier with Max Mephisto starring in Aladdin, but Max’s headlines have been stolen by the disappearance of two local children. When they are found dead in the snow, surrounded by sweets, it’s not long before the press nickname them “Hansel and Gretel.”

DI Edgar Stephens has plenty of leads to investigate. The girl, Annie, used to write gruesome plays based on the Grimms’ fairy tales. Does the clue lie in Annie’s unfinished—and rather disturbing—last script? Or might it lie with the eccentric theatricals who have assembled for the pantomime?

For Stan (aka the Great Diablo), who’s also appearing in Aladdin, the case raises more personal memories. Back before the Great War, he witnessed the murder of a young girl while he was starring in another show, an event which has eerie parallels to the current case.

Once again Edgar enlists Max’s help in penetrating the shadowy theatrical world that seems to hold the key. But with both distracted by their own personal problems, neither can afford to miss a trick. For Annie and her friend, time is running out. . . . [from the publisher]

This is the second in a series. I read the first—The Zig Zag Girl—in 2018. I liked this second installment a bit more than the first, which is the opposite of the other two series of Griffiths' of which I've read the first two books: Ruth Galloway and Harbinder Kaur.

This Brighton series feels much the same as Agatha Christie and other standard murder mystery series of Christie's time. I'm finding these to be serviceable—entertaining enough, but not particularly thrilling.

I rated the first installment 3 stars in fall 2018—that's a pretty basic “it was decent/I'm not mad I read it” rating. I thought this one (excepting a truly irritating section around/just beyond the middle in which everybody was whiny and waffly) was better. It had some funny bits, especially from Arthur. The romance was over-the-top sappy, but I'll allow it . . . this time. The book would have been improved by not being so long. Supporting characters Dylan (Ben's best friend) and Samantha have a big storyline that's rushed at the end.

It has been pointed out by other readers that the characters aren't terribly more mature than they were in the two-years-earlier installment. Maybe . . . and they're still teenagers—I don't think it's unreasonable to think that they have a lot of maturing to do still.

I'm uncertain about my rating on this one. I suspect I'm rating it higher than I would usually because my weary self appreciates being entertained without having to provide brainpower. If you're up for a sometimes-funny, schmaltzy, gay YA love story, give it a try. I think it would work as a standalone, if you haven't (and don't want to) read the first book.

Making a living is hard. In a lawless city where gods are real, dragons are traffic hazards, and buildings move around on their own, it can feel downright impossible.

Good thing freelance mage Opal Yong-ae has never let little things like impossibility stop her. She’s found a way to put her overpriced magical art history degree to use as a Cleaner: a contract municipal employee who empties out abandoned apartments and resells the unusual treasures she finds inside for a profit. It’s not a pretty job, or a safe one—there’s a reason she wears bite-proof gloves—but when you’re neck-deep in debt to a very magical, very nasty individual, you can’t be picky about where the money comes from.

But even Opal’s low standards are put to the test when the only thing of value in her latest apartment is the body of the previous tenant. Dealing with the dead isn’t technically part of her job, but this mage died hiding a secret that could be worth a lot of money, and Opal’s the only one who knows. With debts she can’t pay due at the end of the week, this could be the big break she’s been waiting for, but in a city of runaway magic where getting in over your head generally means losing it, the cost of chasing this opportunity might be more than Opal can survive. [from the publisher]

This urban fantasy was a good pick for my first read of 2022. There's an aspiring independent and determined female lead, action, urgency, mystery, magic, and dragons. There's not a great amount of violence or grossness.

I enjoyed this enough that I've added the first in a different series set in the same universe to my TBR list.

5-star reads

• Change Sings: A Children's Anthem, Amanda Gorman, Loren Long (Illustrator)
• A Child of Books, Oliver Jeffers, Sam Winston (Illustrator)
• The Phantom Tollbooth, Norton Juster (reread; first time reading with Rainn Wilson narration)
• Hope Was Here, Joan Bauer (reread)
• The 1619 Project: Born on the Water, Nikole Hannah-Jones & Renée Watson, Nikkolas Smith (Illustrator)

4-star reads

• How the Word Is Passed: A Reckoning with the History of Slavery Across America, Clint Smith
• Olga Dies Dreaming, Xóchitl González
• Wish You Were Here, Jodi Picoult
• The Fantastic Flying Books of Mr. Morris Lessmore, William Joyce, Joe Bluhm (Illustrator) (4.35)

honorable mention

• Is This Anything? Jerry Seinfeld (3.66)
• A Snake Falls to Earth, Darcie Little Badger (3.5)
• Let It Snow, John Green, Maureen Johnson & Lauren Myracle (3.5)
• Cece Rios and the Desert of Souls, Kaela Rivera (3.66)
• Girl Logic: The Genius and the Absurdity, Iliza Shlesinger (3.66)

I took a much-needed break from blogging (and other responsibilities, real and self-imposed), but not from reading (of course)! Pictured is this year's adults & teens Winter Reading Program completion prize—a nifty mug. Children from birth through 6th grade get a toy upon completion. Register any time during the program—which runs through Monday, January 31, 2022—if you haven't already.

I haven't quite figured out how or when I'll catch up with posting reviews of books I read during my break. Reviews will likely be posted out of order, but will show up on the website under the date I finished each book. So, until I catch up, look for entries from December 9 to the "present" (which will go on for some weeks, I imagine). I'll post links on social media, individually or as a group, as I’m able.

I hope your winter reading has been fulfilling and fun so far, and that you have/had warm and meaningful family time during the holidays.

It’s 2017, and Olga and her brother, Pedro “Prieto” Acevedo are bold faced names in their hometown of New York. Prieto is a popular Congressman representing their gentrifying, Latinx neighborhood in Brooklyn while Olga is the tony wedding planner for Manhattan’s powerbrokers.

Despite their alluring public lives, behind closed doors things are far less rosy. Sure, Olga can orchestrate the love stories of the 1%, but she can’t seem to find her own . . . until she meets Matteo, who forces her to confront the effects of long held family secrets. . . .

Twenty-seven years ago, their mother Blanca, a Young Lord-turned-radical, abandoned her children to advance a militant political cause, leaving them to be raised by their grandmother. Now, with the winds of hurricane season, Blanca has come barreling back into their lives.

Set against the backdrop of New York City in the months surrounding the most devastating hurricane in Puerto Rico’s history, Xochitl Gonzalez's Olga Dies Dreaming is a story that examines political corruption, familial strife and the very notion of the American Dream—all while asking what it really means to weather a storm. [from the publisher]

This debut novel grabbed me early on and kept me hooked. Olga isn't a warm fuzzy character, which sometimes makes her unlikeable. However, she has some pretty impressive skills, works hard (if not always above-board), and has loving relationships with family and friends. There is a lot of social and political commentary, which I personally enjoy. There are some especially funny scenes involving Olga's love/hate/passive-aggressive relationship with one of her cousins, along with more tender familial relationships with her brother, niece, grandmother, and at least one aunt. Olga and eventual love-interest Matteo are both emotionally fragile and flawed, but end up bringing out the best in each other. I noticed that another early reader felt the handling of an aspect of brother Pedro's story was outdated. I wonder if the anxiety Pedro experienced was appropriate to his cultural experience and age. Gonzalez did a good job of interlocking storylines between characters and over time.

Sensitive issues include mental health, drug addiction, suicide, racism, parental abandonment, and rape. Corporate and political corruption, misogyny, and the US government's mistreatment/mishandling of Puerto Rico also play significant roles.

Thank you, NetGalley and Macmillan Audio, for the audio ARC of the book in exchange for an honest review. Publication is expected January 4.

Both high-schoolers live in households with two parents and are of Mexican-American heritage. Aristotle has siblings (one of whom is a brother who is incarcerated).

I didn't like the book as much as I expected. I wasn't wowed—as so many are—by the characters or the writing. I didn't feel like the progression of the relationship was authentically organic. The story drags along until, all of a sudden, a switch goes off at the end and there's a happy-ish ending. Obviously, I'm not the target audience, but I read a fair amount of YA. Like my immediately previous read, I doubt that I'll continue reading the series.

While the set-up of the story was promising, the cleverness of the children wasn't developed sufficiently. The bulk of the story concentrated on the behaviors and actions of various bad guys. There are some positive relationships, and the children are recognized for their unique gifts—they need each other to get the job done.

As middle-grade mysteries go, I greatly prefer Laura Ruby's York series.

As a sixteen-year-old, Tessa Cartwright was found in a Texas field, barely alive amid a scattering of bones, with only fragments of memory as to how she got there. Ever since, the press has pursued her as the lone surviving “Black-Eyed Susan,” the nickname given to the murder victims because of the yellow carpet of wildflowers that flourished above their shared grave. Tessa’s testimony about those tragic hours put a man on death row.

Now, almost two decades later, Tessa is an artist and single mother. In the desolate cold of February, she is shocked to discover a freshly planted patch of black-eyed susans—a summertime bloom—just outside her bedroom window. Terrified at the implications—that she sent the wrong man to prison and the real killer remains at large—Tessa turns to the lawyers working to exonerate the man awaiting execution. But the flowers alone are not proof enough, and the forensic investigation of the still-unidentified bones is progressing too slowly. An innocent life hangs in the balance. The legal team appeals to Tessa to undergo hypnosis to retrieve lost memories—and to share the drawings she produced as part of an experimental therapy shortly after her rescue.

What they don’t know is that Tessa and the scared, fragile girl she was have built a fortress of secrets. As the clock ticks toward the execution, Tessa fears for her sanity, but even more for the safety of her teenaged daughter. Is a serial killer still roaming free, taunting Tessa with a trail of clues? She has no choice but to confront old ghosts and lingering nightmares to finally discover what really happened that night. [from the publisher]

I was on-board with the premise. The story is told primarily from the points of view of past- and present-Tessa. There are multiple supporting characters in both timelines. The overall pace is painfully slow—there isn't much action or advancement. I correctly guessed the killer's identity quite early, but I was surprised by a small twist at the end. Because of this, I gave the book a tiny ratings boost.

A little girl, a child of books, sails her raft across a sea of words and arrives at the house of a young boy. She invites him to go away with her on an adventure into the world of stories . . . where, with only a little imagination, anything at all can happen.

Irresistibly engaging characters by Oliver Jeffers set sail and chart their way through Sam Winston's fascinating typographical landscapes in this extraordinary ode to the power and promise of storytelling. Forty treasured children's classics and lullabies are featured in the pictures, providing endless opportunities for discovery, memories, and sharing. [from the front cover flap]

The title called out to me, which is why I picked it to read the minute I got home from the library today. As I expected, this book spoke to my core. I was a child of books, and their import to me has never diminished.

An online bookish friend of mine said this in her review of the book: “My kids thought it was pretty good, but as an adult who feels created by the books I've read, it was a work of art.” I get it! I hope I'll be able to share this book with littles of my acquaintance or family in the future.

On my Oliver Jeffers quest, I have now read a book written by someone else/illustrated by Jeffers, a book written and illustrated by Jeffers, and a book written by Jeffers/illustrated by someone else. I picked up two more of his books (besides this one) today.

The first book in twenty-five years from Jerry Seinfeld features his best work across five decades in comedy.

Since his first performance at the legendary New York nightclub “Catch a Rising Star” as a twenty-one-year-old college student in fall of 1975, Jerry Seinfeld has written his own material and saved everything. “Whenever I came up with a funny bit, whether it happened on a stage, in a conversation, or working it out on my preferred canvas, the big yellow legal pad, I kept it in one of those old school accordion folders,” Seinfeld writes. “So I have everything I thought was worth saving from forty-five years of hacking away at this for all I was worth.”

For this book, Jerry Seinfeld has selected his favorite material, organized decade by decade. In page after hilarious page, one brilliantly crafted observation after another, readers will witness the evolution of one of the great comedians of our time and gain new insights into the thrilling but unforgiving art of writing stand-up comedy. [from the publisher]

The audio edition is narrated by Seinfeld himself, and the book is just as promised by the publisher's description. It was a quick, fun read, especially while knitting to my heart's content at the end of a long week (though, what week doesn't feel long at this point?). I liked his discussion of the trends in comedy writing—talking about comedians having writers vs. writing all their own material. I think this book is a good bet for fans of comedy, whether or not you're a particular fan of Seinfeld's.

While Dava is portrayed as a generous philanthropist, she is not written particularly positively overall. Too, her children are entitled and not fully competent, independent adults (with the possible exception of one). Because I don't enjoy that kind of character, gossipy celebrity watching, or family drama, much of the book was slow and tedious to me. As Dava really approaches her end, she finally has some substantive conversations with her grandchildren, collectively, and their parents, individually. These conversations result in mending some relationships and calming some hurts.

This book gave me chills and made me cry. It's so simple . . . or, at least, it should be.

4-star reads

• Baggage: Tales from a Fully Packed Life, Alan Cumming (4.35)
• The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, Douglas Adams (4.35)
• All The Lonely People, Mike Gayle (4.35)
• Here We Are: Notes for Living on Planet Earth, Oliver Jeffers (4.35)
• Game On: Tempting Twenty-Eight, Janet Evanovich
• You Can Run, Karen Cleveland
• The Day the Crayons Quit, Drew Daywalt & Oliver Jeffers (Illustrator)
• We Are Water Protectors, Carole Lindstrom & Michaela Goade (Illustrator)

honorable mention

• All Her Little Secrets, Wanda M. Morris (3.66)
• Malibu Rising, Taylor Jenkins Reid (3.66)
• The Book of Delights, Ross Gay (3.66)
• Taste: My Life through Food, Stanley Tucci (3.66)
• The Bone Cay, Eliza Nellums (3.66)
• An Ambush of Widows, Jeff Abbott (3.66)
• The Happy Ever After Playlist (The Friend Zone #2), Abby Jimenez (3.5)
• These Silent Woods, Kimi Cunningham Grant (3.5)
• Renegades: Born In the USA, Barack Obama & Bruce Springsteen (3.5)

Henry North is a down-on-his-luck cybersecurity expert from New Orleans. Adam Zhang is the cofounder of one of Austin’s most successful venture capitalist firms. These two men didn’t know each other. They had never met. Yet they died together, violently, in a place neither had any business being.

When Henry doesn’t return from a business trip, his wife, Kirsten, panics—and then gets an anonymous phone call: “Your husband is dead in Austin.”

Flora Zhang knew her husband was keeping secrets. She suspected an affair, but she had decided she could forgive him for his weakness—until her husband ended up dead. And with no explanation for her husband’s murder, the police begin to suspect her.

Together, these two widows will face a powerful foe determined to write a false narrative about the murders. In doing so, neither Flora nor Kirsten will remain the women the world thought they were. [from the publisher]

An “ambush” is the collective noun for a group of widows (the same goes for tigers); and, of course, there's a reason for this choice of title, as well as a discussion of other interesting collective nouns.

My interest in the story ebbed and flowed. Sometimes it felt either just too far-fetched or slow and dull. Other times, I enjoyed the characters' interchanges or the twists in/connectedness of the story. There's a large cast of supporting characters, including Adam's business partner and his wife (a close friend of Flora's); the Zhangs' neighbors; Kirsten's foster brother, who was also a friend of Henry's (who lived next door to Kirsten's foster family when they were in high school); Kirsten's foster parents; a female detective in Austin; a homeless man; a hit man and his family; and Adam's live-in cousin/protégé.

I was surprised by Kirsten's quickly expressed—and persisting—need for/talk of revenge. It didn't seem like a normal reaction. That is, I would expect someone in her position to want some sort of justice served, but not for her to want to institute revenge personally.

I was amused by this statement:

“I don't trust someone who reads so much. I like people who live in the real world.” —Mr. Fortunato to Kirsten, about Larry [Chapter 38]

The very end of the book creates the opportunity for a sequel, also with a revenge story.

A spirited young Englishwoman, Abitha, arrives at a Puritan colony betrothed to a stranger – only to become quickly widowed when her husband dies under mysterious circumstances. All alone in this pious and patriarchal society, Abitha fights for what little freedom she can grasp onto, while trying to stay true to herself and her past.

Enter Slewfoot, a powerful spirit of antiquity newly woken… and trying to find his own role in the world. Healer or destroyer? Protector or predator? But as the shadows walk and villagers start dying, a new rumor is whispered: Witch.

Both Abitha and Slewfoot must swiftly decide who they are, and what they must do to survive in a world intent on hanging any who meddle in the dark arts. [from the publisher]

I had high hopes for Slewfoot—from the start, I indeed found Abitha to be spirited in her determination and efforts to help her husband fend off his evil brother's attempts to essentially steal their farm to pay off his own debts, thus subjecting them to poverty and servitude. After her husband's death, the stakes were even higher, as a woman alone had no standing. Even the beginning of Abitha's association with Slewfoot was interesting, with them navigating what each needed or wanted and how they might choose to help each other. Unfortunately, between the evil brother-in-law's treachery and the interference from other supernatural beings around Slewfoot, it devolved into a gratuitously hyperviolent mess. I was no longer interested by the story, let alone inclined to root for Abitha.

Claudia Morgan is overwhelmed. She's a single parent trying the best that she can, but her four-year-old son, Henry, is a handful—for her and for his preschool. When Claudia hears about a school with an atypical teaching style near her Chicagoland home, she has to visit. The Hawthorne School is beautiful and has everything she dreams of for Henry: time to play outside, music, and art. The head of the school, Zelma, will even let Claudia volunteer to cover the cost of tuition.

The school is good for Henry: his “behavioral problems” disappear, and he comes home subdued instead of rageful. But there's something a bit off about the school, its cold halls, and its enigmatic headmistress. When Henry brings home stories of ceremonies in the woods and odd rules, Claudia's instincts tell her that something isn't quite right, and she begins to realize she's caught in a web of manipulations and power.

This exploration of what a mother will do for her child is guided by the author's work with narcissistic manipulation and addictive power dynamics in her role as a psychotherapist. [from the publisher]

The book is classified under mystery and thrillers. Mystery? Not at all. The reader knows all along what's going on. Thriller? Maybe, but not really. There's no real tension around whether the bad guy will get caught or whether the day will be saved. Throughout the story, so very little happens . . . there is little advancement. It is creepy (in an icky—not scary—way).

I disliked virtually all of the characters. Worst of all, contrary to the publisher's description of Claudia's “instincts,” she seems downright clueless and ineffectual.

Thank you, NetGalley and Dreamscape Media, for the audio ARC of the book in exchange for an honest review. Publication is expected December 7.

Here We Are is both written and illustrated by Jeffers. It was written for his infant son about some things he needs to know about living on Earth. Again, the illustrations—this time in a more developed style—are colorful and fun. As far as the words are concerned, the overall message is about where we live, how diverse nature and animal life is, and the fact that we're never alone.

I thought this tidbit was cute.

You are a person. You have a body.

Look after it, as most bits don't grow back.

There is a two-page spread showing many shapes, sizes, and colors of people, followed by another two-page spread for an array of animals.

Jeffers tells his son the staggering number of us who live here on Earth, with an admonition to “. . . be kind. There is enough for everyone.”

I wish I had discovered Jeffers sooner. Now that I have, I'm enjoying the simple pleasures of his children's picture books during the hustle of the holiday season.

In weekly phone calls to his daughter in Australia, widower Hubert Bird paints a picture of the perfect retirement, packed with fun, friendship and fulfilment.

But Hubert Bird is lying.

Now Hubert faces a seemingly impossible task: to make his real life resemble his fake life before the truth comes out.

Along the way Hubert stumbles across a second chance at love, renews a cherished friendship and finds himself roped into an audacious community scheme that seeks to end loneliness once and for all. . . . [from the publisher]

As a young man, Hubert moves from Jamaica to England, where he meets his future wife, a white native of England. Joyce and Hubert experience horrible racist disapproval of their relationship, causing challenges to employment, housing, child care, familial relationships, and friendships. Quite a bit of the back story is delivered to us via Hubert's memories. In the present, Joyce is dead, their daughter is a professor at an Australian university, and their son is estranged.

For me, All The Lonely People was reminiscent of Fredrik Backman's A Man Called Ove, which I read just over 10 years ago. [Where does the time go?!] Hubert isn't curmudgeonly like Ove—he's actually quite sweet and positive (at least in his reminiscences). Where they are similar is that they are widowed elderly men whose lives are positively impacted by new neighbors who are young mothers.

There are several well-realized supporting characters in this story, each with their own personality and relationship with Hubert. The result is a charming story.

It's unusual for me to get misty over books. Perhaps it's because I read a lot of nonfiction, mysteries, and thrillers—books that evoke different emotions. At various stages, this story had me verklempt (overcome with emotion)—sometimes happy; sometimes sad.

When a black snake threatens to destroy the Earth and poison her people's water, one young water protector takes a stand to defend Earth's most sacred resource.

Inspired by the many Indigenous-led movements across North America, this bold and lyrical picture book issues an urgent rallying cry to safeguard the Earth's water from harm and corruption. [from front cover flap]

This beautifully illustrated children's picture book has an environmental justice message coming from Native American culture and tradition. It is recommend for ages three to six years, but I think it could be enjoyed by thoughtful people of all ages.

Renu Amin always seemed perfect: doting husband, beautiful house, healthy sons. But as the one-year anniversary of her husband’s death approaches, Renu is binge-watching soap operas and simmering with old resentments. She can’t stop wondering if, thirty-five years ago, she chose the wrong life. In Los Angeles, her son, Akash, has everything he ever wanted, but as he tries to kickstart his songwriting career and commit to his boyfriend, he is haunted by the painful memories he fled a decade ago. When his mother tells him she is selling the family home, Akash returns to Illinois, hoping to finally say goodbye and move on.

Together, Renu and Akash pack up the house, retreating further into the secrets that stand between them. Renu sends an innocent Facebook message to the man she almost married, sparking an emotional affair that calls into question everything she thought she knew about herself. Akash slips back into bad habits as he confronts his darkest secrets—including what really happened between him and the first boy who broke his heart. When their pasts catch up to them, Renu and Akash must decide between the lives they left behind and the ones they’ve since created, between making each other happy and setting themselves free. [from the publisher]

If you're in the mood for a dark and emotional story, this may be for you. It felt longer than 336 pages to me, with essentially no comic relief, a bunch of unhappy—and fairly unpleasant—characters, and family drama to the hilt.

While the book was overwhelmingly dark and brooding, there were small moments of humor. Most of these had to do with Renu's negative attitudes toward American women (not entirely without merit; I was especially amused by her commentary on use of hot peppers). There was also a moment of mirth (and only this one moment in the whole book—they argue and physically fight throughout) between Akash and his older brother in which they make fun of the (in this case) Indian “uncles'” head wobble (if you've seen it, you understand).

Thank you, NetGalley, Macmillan Audio, and Flatiron Books, for the audio ARC of the book in exchange for an honest review. Publication is expected December 7.

When the world’s largest search engine/social media company, the Circle, merges with the planet’s dominant e-commerce site, it creates the richest and most dangerous—and, oddly enough, most beloved—monopoly ever known: the Every.

Delaney Wells is an unlikely new hire. A former forest ranger and unwavering tech skeptic, she charms her way into an entry-level job with one goal in mind: to take down the company from within. With her compatriot, the not-at-all-ambitious Wes Makazian, they look for the company’s weaknesses, hoping to free humanity from all-encompassing surveillance and the emoji-driven infantilization of the species. But does anyone want what Delaney is fighting to save? Does humanity truly want to be free? [from the publisher]

When The Circle first came out, I couldn't stop talking about it. [If you were the object of my enthusiastic recommendations of it in the early post-publication months, I apologize.] When I reread it just over four years later, I downgraded my rating a full star. It was even more disturbing to me in the second reading. I also noticed how repetitive the writing was.

The Every is more of the same—disturbing, but also obvious and repetitive. This time, beyond attacking the ills of social media behemoths (completely valid), the e-commerce behemoth becomes the focus (also completely valid). [Yes, of course, Eggers is talking about Amazon.] Delaney wants to destroy The Every because it cost her parents their independent store (and swallowed them up to work for The Every).

Five of the six bookmarks I placed came in the final 10% of the book. In Chapter XLI (90%), Mae (from the first book) completely gives away what happens in Chapter XLIV (99%). My comment for the first tag was “OMG! Seriously, Mae?”; for the second, “where Mae does what I knew she'd do back at OMG note.”

Dion Graham has become one of my favorite narrators. The exception in this book is a shockingly monotonous overemphasis of “she said” and the like. The greatest blame lies with the author, of course, for his overuse/lack of imagination. I would hope, though, that the narrator could deemphasize the excess during the delivery.

If you absolutely loved The Circle, you'll probably want to read The Every to see what happens next. If you need a break from the sorry state of our affairs, you might want to skip this.

Magda Trudell is the present-day caretaker of Whimbrel Estate, the Key West home of the famous poet Isobel Reyes. Isobel's suicide at the residence in 1918 has nearly overshadowed her creative legacy, but Magda, a botanist and avid historian, is determined to protect it. Over the past decade, Magda has lovingly restored the house to the exact condition Isobel would have known. And even though a fierce October hurricane is headed straight for the Keys, she isn't about to abandon her life's work to evacuate.

As the mighty storm makes landfall, the dangers mount. First, a fire and flood threaten to destroy the house. Then the storm claims most of Magda's supplies. When part of the house collapses, she unearths an old steamer trunk in the rubble that contains a woman's remains. Is there more to Isobel's story than Magda knows?

The unexpected appearance of a teenage girl and her father seeking shelter from the storm poses unnerving new questions: Are they really who they seem? And could they have a connection to the house's shadowy past? As the storm rages, Magda desperately tries to solve the real mystery of Isobel's death—and keep the living in one piece. [from the publisher]

Pro: the narrator; I felt like I was on the house tour at the beginning of the book; Magda's determination/persistence; Magda's relationship with the teen girl during the storm

Con: not much really happens/limited action (it is a short book, so I guess it's understandable); the paranormal aspect seems sort of tossed in, but

I liked the writing well enough that I've added the author's previous book to my TBR list. I appreciate that—I have a hard time keeping my pipeline full.

Thank you, NetGalley and Dreamscape Media, for the audio ARC of the book in exchange for an honest review. Publication is expected December 7.

The premise is that Duncan's crayons are full of complaints—they get used too much and need a break; they get used too little and want more work; they argue over which of them is best suited for a particular use; and so on—which they deliver to Duncan in the form of letters. My favorite letter is from Purple. Which is yours?

As interesting as their conversations are, the photos from their private archives are the best.

I binged the entire book in one sitting, in lieu of the better part of a weekend day's chores. Knowing that the book is in demand, it was worth it. But, I wish I had spread it out over my loan period instead of waiting until the last minute. Maybe you'll be more disciplined in that regard.

Before Stanley Tucci became a household name with The Devil Wears Prada, The Hunger Games, and the perfect Negroni, he grew up in an Italian American family that spent every night around the table. He shared the magic of those meals with us in The Tucci Cookbook and The Tucci Table, and now he takes us beyond the recipes and into the stories behind them.

Taste is a reflection on the intersection of food and life, filled with anecdotes about growing up in Westchester, New York, preparing for and filming the foodie films Big Night and Julie & Julia, falling in love over dinner, and teaming up with his wife to create conversation-starting meals for their children. Each morsel of this gastronomic journey through good times and bad, five-star meals and burnt dishes, is as heartfelt and delicious as the last. [from the publisher]

Counter to the publisher's description, there are several recipes included in Taste. The focus, however, is on Tucci's memories and experiences and how food factored in to them. Just as I've appreciated the acting roles I've seen Tucci play, I found his narration and story charming. I learned, among other things, that his second wife, Felicity, is fellow actor Emily Blunt's older sister.

I found this passage especially entertaining. [That's an understatement—it made me laugh out loud!]

I know what you're thinking: "My God, what a fascinating conundrum of a man is that Stanley Tucci." Whereas my wife was thinking: "My God, how many neuroses can one man have? I wonder if there's an app that can help him." [Chapter 18]

I found the premise—and a bunch of silly events early in her side hustle—ridiculous (of course) and annoying. However, unlike most "chick lit," Madison (formerly spoiled rich girl) and Tyler (successful rich guy) form a friendship first and come to care for each other in a pretty organic fashion. [I don't care for "chick lit" as a name for a genre—why not just call it "fiction"? However, I think this is a better classification than "romance," which seems nowadays to be assigned to any book that includes a romantic relationship. I think that's nothing short of obnoxious.] This book also doesn't employ the hate-to-love trope, thank goodness! Madison has a couple of ride-or-die girlfriends, who are also teachers. Madison's family members are stereotypical snobs, narcissists, and spoiled princesses.

No electricity, no family, no connection to the outside world. For eight years, Cooper and his young daughter, Finch, have lived in isolation in a remote cabin in the northern Appalachian woods. And that's exactly the way Cooper wants it, because he's got a lot to hide. Finch has been raised on the books filling the cabin’s shelves and the beautiful but brutal code of life in the wilderness. But she’s starting to push back against the sheltered life Cooper has created for her—and he’s still haunted by the painful truth of what it took to get them there.

The only people who know they exist are a mysterious local hermit named Scotland, and Cooper's old friend, Jake, who visits each winter to bring them food and supplies. But this year, Jake doesn't show up, setting off an irreversible chain of events that reveals just how precarious their situation really is. Suddenly, the boundaries of their safe haven have blurred—and when a stranger wanders into their woods, Finch’s growing obsession with her could put them all in danger. After a shocking disappearance threatens to upend the only life Finch has ever known, Cooper is forced to decide whether to keep hiding—or finally face the sins of his past. [from the publisher]

I didn't feel like the book quite lived up to the hype of the publisher description. Nonetheless, this was a slightly more interesting than average read. I think the underlying issue that caused what Cooper has to hide was done a disservice.

Pro: Cooper & Finch's relationship (for the most part); Scotland's grand gesture; Jake and his substitute (when he doesn't show up for his annual visit)

Con: handling of Cooper's condition; Scotland (for most of the book)

This statement is true, in my experience:

That's the nice thing about books. You can experience all different people and all sorts of places through them, all in the safety and comfort of your own home. —Cooper to Finch [Chapter 11]

As one of my colleagues noted this week, I've been having a hard time finding truly satisfying mysteries lately. When I finished this one (actually just hours after our conversation), I texted to let her know that I had a winner. While I was mildly annoyed at several points during the book, the very end redeemed it for me. I'd love to have someone to talk to about this. You know where to find me when you've finished.

A few passages especially stuck with me. The first is not delightful, but is important.

. . . innocence is an impossible state for black people in America who are, by virtue of this country's fundamental beliefs, always presumed guilty. [Chapter 8]

This interchange cracked me up.

Real conversation I had with my father at age seven or so: "What happens when you die, Dad?" "The worms eat you. Now go play." [Chapter 31]

This seems like a good philosophy.

"The more stuff you love the happier you will be." —an acquaintance of the author's speaking to his own daughter [Chapter 97]

I devoured the book in a day. Others have suggested reading one a day for maximum enjoyment. I think it works either way.

Sophie Kinsella's Confessions of a Shopaholic was published in 2001, but I didn't read it until 2004 (still, almost 20 years ago—proving, I suppose, that time flies when you're having fun . . . reading). I must have liked it, because I read Can You Keep a Secret? (published in 2003) three books/less than a week later. The Party Crasher is probably my tenth Kinsella book. As I remember it, none of them were bad reads; but, few, if any, were extraordinary reads. If I'm in the mood for something fluffy, Kinsella is a good enough bet.

Eighteen-year-olds Ruben Montez and Zach Knight are two members of the boy-band Saturday, one of the biggest acts in America. Along with their bandmates, Angel Phan and Jon Braxton, the four are teen heartbreakers in front of the cameras and best friends backstage. But privately, cracks are starting to form: their once-easy rapport is straining under the pressures of fame, and Ruben confides in Zach that he’s feeling smothered by management’s pressure to stay in the closet.

On a whirlwind tour through Europe, with both an unrelenting schedule and minimal supervision, Ruben and Zach come to rely on each other more and more, and their already close friendship evolves into a romance. But when they decide they’re ready to tell their fans and live freely, Zach and Ruben start to truly realize that they will never have the support of their management. How can they hold tight to each other when the whole world seems to want to come between them? [from the publisher]

I'm wildly outside of the target audience for this story, both in terms of age and interests (that is, I was never a boy-band fangirl). Even so, the story was entertaining, if a little long and repetitive.

As one can probably guess from the summary, many heavy issues are covered, including sexuality in relation to social norms and religion (Catholicism, in this case), as well as drug and alcohol abuse. The demands of the management company, lack of privacy, and Zach's personal journey of coming to terms with his sexuality are covered in-depth.

I'd recommend this book for boy-band fans and readers of YA and/or LGBTQIA representation (gay and bi in this book).

Thank you, NetGalley, Macmillan Audio, and Wednesday Books, for the audio ARC of the book in exchange for an honest review. Publication is expected December 7.

Detective Josie Quinn hasn’t heard from her sister since Trinity stormed out of the house in the heat of an argument three weeks ago. So, when human remains are found at the remote hunting cabin where Trinity was last seen, Josie can only assume the worst. [from the publisher]

This is the eighth in a series; the first I've read. Maybe starting from the beginning would have been helpful, at least in terms of building some brand loyalty. But, the author does a pretty good job of letting us newbies know the background of the major characters. A particularly important piece of background in this installment is that Josie and Trinity are twins. Josie was kidnapped as a baby, and was reunited with her birth family only in her thirties. Beyond Trinity, the birth parents and younger brother appear in this book. Also, Josie's adopted grandmother, who played a role in her upbringing, appears. She's fantastic.

The story is told in chapters voiced by Josie and the serial killer, who creates sculptures with his victim’s bones. I disliked the prominence of the serial killer's story—it was largely unnecessary and gave away a key piece of the mystery early on. I did like Josie using her dual family connections to help solve the mystery. There were some interlocking storylines that were mildly interesting.

All in all, it was a lackluster mystery. I probably won't actively seek out other installments, but I won't necessarily shy away from them either.

Alexis Spencer thinks she has it all figured out. Even when life gets her down, she’s never too far away from another inspirational quote to rationalize her failures and ignore all her problems. Her boyfriend breaks it off, she loses her job, her closest friends are a distant memory, and her college debt is still as high as the day she left. In typical fashion, she blames the world for her problems, including her eighteen-year-old self who should have just tried harder and put their life on a better track.

After feeling sorry for herself, she goes on a bender to forget her problems and ends up blacking out. But this time she doesn't wake up at home; she isn't even in the right city; in fact, she isn't even in the right year. She’s back in her college town in the year 2002, and she thinks she's been given a second chance to do things over—that is, until she comes face-to-face with her unruly eighteen-year-old self, who goes by the name of Lexi because it's "sexier."

Right from the get-go, she has to get acclimated to life in the early 2000s again, which has its ups (no Kardashians) and downs (no cell phone). Once she meets Lexi though, the hard part truly begins. First, Alexis must convince her that she is, in fact, from the future. Then she has to convince Lexi to let her live in the dorm with her. Finally, they must learn to get along and come to terms with the fact that, alone, they will never make things right but, together, they could change their life for the better. [from the publisher]

As far as I can tell, I'm the first early reviewer not to rave about this book (expected publication date November 30). Here's why I'm not crazy about the story: Lexi/Alexis—then as a college student and now in her mid–30s—isn't a nice or pleasant character. The first half, at least, is painfully slow and unpleasant—it takes a long time for Alexis to grow up, and I didn't have the patience to enjoy that ride. The ending is pretty satisfying, but it didn't erase the bad taste of the rest of the book for me.

This is a good example of the subjective and personal nature of our reading. For the reviewers who especially related to the time setting or Alexis' delayed maturation, this book was more enjoyable. As always, if the premise sounds interesting to you, give it a try!

Thank you, NetGalley and Dreamscape Media, for the audio ARC of the book in exchange for an honest review.

In at least the second and third (the first was pre-blogging, and I just don't remember this level of detail), I was really enjoying the whirlwind romances until the author decided to throw some tension into the relationships. In both cases, I found the manufactured tension to be tedious and ridiculous—not at all in keeping with the relationships as they had been developing. However unrealistic (and, let's face it—the stories are completely unrealistic and that's why people like them so much), occasionally I'm OK with there not being a monkey wrench thrown into the relationship. Sometimes, it's OK to have not only the happy ending, but the happy beginning and middle, too!

In this installment, the meet-cute happens when Sloan ("Girl") thinks she hits a dog that has bounded in front of her car, but instead, Tucker ("Boy's Dog"), jumps excitedly into Sloan's car and adores her forevermore. Sloan tries to track down Tucker's person, but gets no response to her calls/texts. Eventually, Jason ("Boy") emerges from whatever no-cell-signal zone he's been in and calls Sloan back; but he's still out of the country, and Sloan is furious that he hasn't arranged appropriate care for his dog while he's away. They start flirting on the phone, daily, and fall madly in love, even though Sloan has been mourning her fiancé for two years, completely removing herself from daily life.

Because relationships and character development are high on my list of requirements in fiction, I'll mention that there is a good cast of secondary and tertiary characters, including Kristen (Sloan's best friend and heroine of the series' first book) and rock star Jason's agent, staff, and parents.

For what it's worth, there is one very explicit sex scene, quite a bit of mature language (swearing and sexual), and alcohol and drug abuse.

Don't Panic was first published in 1986, when Neil Gaiman was a young journalist who gained access to Adams and his files. We end up with a volume that is part biography, part history, part interviews, part analysis—it's really a mish-mash of all things Hitchhiker's (in its radio, book, television, and movie forms), Dirk Gently, and Douglas Adams (including a fair amount of Doctor Who and Monty Python).

I had heard many of the stories in this work before. I was particularly interested by a discussion about whether American audiences understand and like English humor [Chapter 15]. According to Adams, American audience members say "yes," while the entertainment industry says "no." [I've always said "yes," but I grew up in a household with one British expat parent, so I figured I came by it naturally.] In Chapter 34, an assertion is made that ". . . Hitchhiker's just doesn’t work well in a visual medium. Certainly the BBC TV series was Douglas’s least favourite incarnation of the work. Film places different demands on its source material and in doing so it played to Hitchhiker’s weaknesses rather than its strengths." I've always felt that the books were the best delivery method for the series.

I wasn't a fan of the narration of the audio edition by Simon Jones, which is odd, as he portrayed Hitchhiker's protagonist, Arthur Dent, on radio (1978) and on television (1981), as well as having a cameo in the later movie. I wish Gaiman had just narrated the entire thing himself (he only narrates the intro). I reread sections in the e-book edition afterward.

I'd recommend this book for Douglas Adams superfans and sci-fi trivia folks.

Seconds before the Earth is demolished to make way for a galactic freeway, Arthur Dent is plucked off the planet by his friend Ford Prefect, a researcher for the revised edition of The Hitch Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy who, for the last fifteen years, has been posing as an out of work actor. [from Goodreads summary]

The first time I read The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy almost had to have been quite close to its original publication. I watched the 1981 television series with my parents and the 2005 movie with my partner (and maybe my kids). I may be compelled to rewatch both in the near future. I chose now to reread it so I could refresh my memory before reading Neil Gaiman's Don't Panic: Douglas Adams & The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy.

The middle-aged me is still every bit as delighted by this science fiction comedy as the teen me was. It's sometimes clever, often ridiculous, and pretty much always over-the-top; but it's exactly the brand of silly fun I love—and, frankly, need.

This reading was with ears—Cumming narrates in his wonderful Scottish accent, as he did for the first. I have placed a hold on a print copy so I may enjoy his photos and reread several sections that were especially funny, thoughtful, inspirational, or interesting.

I recommend this for fans of Alan Cumming or acting in general (TV, movies, and stage), along with those who are interested in current affairs.

The book is about the four children of Mick (a famous singer) and June (heir to an oft-struggling seafood restaurant) Riva: Nina, Jay, Hud, and Kit. The first half is part the 12 hours preceding the annual end-of-summer party, with a lot of flashbacks to early Mick and June and the childhoods of the kids. The second half (roughly 12 hours of the party and aftermath) brings in hundreds of new characters—the party attendees—with explosive results.

The family characters were well-developed, and I think the ending was satisfying. The party part may have been a bit long and over-the-top, but not enough to mar the story overall.

After her boss's death, Ellice gets promoted to his position. As the only Black member of the executive team, she does not feel welcomed by her colleagues. Is it a boys' club situation or something more sinister? [You know it's something more sinister.] Ellice has few allies at work, and a couple of family members get pulled into the mess.

The tension remains high throughout the book. In addition to the present-day mystery, the story includes flashbacks to Ellice's childhood, revealing other critical secrets.

If you're not familiar with the latter, it's a formulaic, frivolous romp. Stephanie is a Jersey girl bounty hunter, working for her weasel of a cousin Vinnie the bail bondsman. A wacky cast of recurring characters includes sidekick Lula (an ex-hooker), longtime on-again/off-again boyfriend Morelli (a cop), former mentor/often lover Ranger, long-suffering parents, Grandma Mazur (an unstoppable bundle of energy), and more, along with a rotating cast of bail-skippers.

Over the years, the installments rise and fall slightly in their entertainment value, but they're never terrible, and they're occasionally really good. In the early years, I would crack up so often while I was reading in the car that my partner ended up reading several installments, too (FOMO at its finest). All I expect from these books is to be entertained, usually humorously.

So, what's to say about the latest installment in a long-running series?

If you're a fan of the series, I don't think you'll be disappointed with this one. There's plenty of what you'd expect, plus a couple of new treats. If you're new to the series, they're really standalone stories—you can pick up anywhere. If you're open to some silly fun, I don't think you'll be disappointed either. For me, this was the perfect one-day distraction on my worst sick day this week. Now, the year-long wait for the next one!

The most exciting part of The Lighthouse Witches is . . . the publisher's description. There. I said it. About a woman who suddenly relocates with her three daughters to a lighthouse on a Scottish island to accept a mural painting assignment, this Gothic fiction is overly long and downright dull. It's so repetitive that it drags down any hope for surprise and excitement. The story is told from several characters' points of view—in the 1990s, some 20-plus years later, and during the Scottish witch trials in the 1590s. There was only one character I sort of liked, and he was minor to the story—a lost opportunity, in my mind.

I am in the slim minority who really didn't like the book, for what it's worth. Please let me know what you think of the story, if you read it.

4-star reads

• A Spindle Splintered, Alix E. Harrow
• Music Is History, Questlove

honorable mention (3+ or 4-)

• Please Don't Sit on My Bed in Your Outside Clothes: Essays, Phoebe Robinson (4-)
• State of Terror, Louise Penny & Hillary Rodham Clinton (4-)
• Grave Reservations (The Booking Agents #1), Cherie Priest (4-)
• A Line to Kill (Hawthorne and Horowitz Mystery #3), Anthony Horowitz (3+/4-)
• Shelf Life: Chronicles of a Cairo Bookseller, Nadia Wassef (3+)
• My Monticello, Jocelyn Nicole Johnson (3+)
• The Last Thing He Told Me, Laura Dave (3+)
• Where the Deer and the Antelope Play: The Pastoral Observations of One Ignorant American Who Loves to Walk Outside, Nick Offerman (3+)

Good things:

• mystery
• set in Chicago
• addresses systemic racism in terms of lack of investment in Black and brown communities and racial stereotypes
• accomplished and driven female main character
• familial ties—blood and chosen

Not-so-good things:

• graphic violence (comes with the territory of the genre)
• main character not as good at relationships as she thinks she is
• implausible behaviors from characters who supposedly know better
• so much repetition

The author is a TV journalist of some renown, which I didn't discover until after finishing this debut novel.

Meet Leda Foley: devoted friend, struggling travel agent, and inconsistent psychic. When Leda, sole proprietor of Foley's Flights of Fancy, impulsively re-books Seattle PD detective Grady Merritt’s flight, her life changes in ways she couldn’t have predicted.

After watching his original plane blow up from the safety of the airport, Grady realizes that Leda’s special abilities could help him with a cold case he just can’t crack.

Despite her scattershot premonitions, she agrees for a secret reason: her fiancé’s murder remains unsolved. Leda’s psychic abilities couldn’t help the case several years before, but she’s been honing her skills and drawing a crowd at her favorite bar’s open-mic nights, where she performs Klairvoyant Karaoke—singing whatever song comes to mind when she holds people’s personal effects. Now joined by a rag-tag group of bar patrons and pals alike, Leda and Grady set out to catch a killer—and learn how the two cases that haunt them have more in common than they ever suspected. [from the publisher]

I went into Grave Reservations with, well, slightly-less-than-grave reservations. I'm not usually a fan of reading cozy or light mysteries—Janet Evanovich's Stephanie Plum series excepted—though I like watching some cozy mysteries, including Pie in the Sky and Agatha Raisin.

So, I was pleasantly surprised by this book, which has a bunch of appealing characters, some with especially big personalities. It also has humor, relationships (romantic, platonic friends, parent/child, coworkers, people/animal), and a surprisingly decent mystery plot. If you could use a light mystery pick-me-up, give it a try!

In this installment, the pair is appearing at a literary festival on an island off the southern coast of England. We meet other authors, along with locals; murder happens; and Hawthorne solves the case.

For more than thirty years, Michael Eric Dyson has played a prominent role in the nation as a public intellectual, university professor, cultural critic, social activist and ordained Baptist minister. He has presented a rich and resourceful set of ideas about American history and culture. Now for the first time he brings together the various components of his multihued identity and eclectic pursuits.

Entertaining Race is a testament to Dyson’s consistent celebration of the outsized impact of African American culture and politics on this country. Black people were forced to entertain white people in slavery, have been forced to entertain the idea of race from the start, and must find entertaining ways to make race an object of national conversation. Dyson’s career embodies these and other ways of performing Blackness, and in these pages, he entertains race with his pen, voice and body, and occasionally, alongside luminaries like Cornel West, David Blight, Ibram X. Kendi, Master P, MC Lyte, Ta-Nehisi Coates, Alicia Garza, John McWhorter, and Jordan Peterson.

Most of this work will be new to listeners, a fresh light for many of his long-time fans and an inspiring introduction for newcomers. Entertaining Race offers a compelling vision from the mind and heart of one of America’s most important and enduring voices. [from the publisher]

This is a long—544 pages or 21 hours of audio narrated by the author—collection of speeches and essays that were given or published previously. As such, there is quite a bit of repetition, especially in terms of Mr. Dyson introducing himself and giving his substantial qualifications. There's also some content repetition between and within the pieces. His topics include Michael Jackson/Beyonce/Prince, Nas, the Isley Brothers, Aretha Franklin, Martin Luther King Jr., Nelson Mandela, hip hop, the blues, Joe Biden, identity politics, Al Sharpton, and several basketball players (individually and in comparison to each other). This isn't a complete list.

Early in the collection, Dyson refers to an enslaved young woman who can't perform for her enslaver's entertainment any more and is tortured and killed because of it. He then mentions tennis player Naomi Osaka putting her self care ahead of her performance for others. [Dyson might have mentioned gymnast Simone Biles instead of or in addition to Osaka, but I'm not going to go back and try to find the reference.] This is what I was expecting more of throughout the book. I guess I took the description and early content too literally.

Instead, many of the chapters about musicians and athletes sound more like fan gushing. I admire several of these musicians and athletes, but I didn't care for the extended "so & so is the greatest of all time" essays. Even the segments that were less subjective were minimally instructive or valuable. I wasn't familiar with Nas before this book, so I was somewhat interested in learning that Nas and Dyson share the experience of having a loved one incarcerated. That piece did talk a bit about the heinous inequities in policing, incarceration, and the after-effects on the incarcerated, their families, and their communities. [This, of course, is handled much more comprehensively in other works, including Michelle Alexander's The New Jim Crow.]

Some of the chapters/pieces were downright sesquipedalian [See what I did there?!]—reading like an especially tedious textbook. As alluded to in the publisher's description, race needs to be an object of national conversation. We shouldn't need to be entertained to enter such critical discussions. Regardless, I was not entertained, engaged, inspired, or fired up by Dyson's essays, as I am often by other authors/professors/ministers/historians/cultural critics.

Thank you, NetGalley, Macmillan Audio, and St. Martin's Press, for the audio ARC of the book in exchange for an honest review.

Now, on to the book at hand. . . .

State of Terror follows a novice Secretary of State who has joined the administration of her rival, a president inaugurated after four years of American leadership that shrank from the world stage. A series of terrorist attacks throws the global order into disarray, and the secretary is tasked with assembling a team to unravel the deadly conspiracy, a scheme carefully designed to take advantage of an American government dangerously out of touch and out of power in the places where it counts the most. [from the publisher]

This story takes place in the present, including references to the "near-criminal incompetence of the former administration . . . a delusional American President and his flying monkeys in the cabinet”—a clear reference to the USA's 2017–2020 administration.

While Hillary Rodham Clinton's term as Secretary of State was prior to that administration, the fictional Ellen Adams' term is following that administration. [In the book, the immediate past president is named Eric Dunn, nicknamed "Eric the Dumb."] I don't know how closely the experiences of fictional Ellen Adams match HRC's experiences as Secretary of State; but it's fun to wonder which events might be true or close to it.

There are certainly differences between Ellen and HRC, including but not limited to different marriages and children. Ellen's closest advisor is a lifelong friend, Betsy, apparently modeled after a close friend of HRC's. Apparently, Louise Penny and HRC are friends in real life. I haven't read or viewed any interviews of them as coauthors, but would like to.

Despite a very few mild irritations in the text and a couple of slightly slow parts, this was a pretty good mystery/thriller. It's got intrigue, suspense, deep and interlocking relationships, and even humor.

In The Last Thing He Told Me, Hannah's newish husband Owen disappears suddenly when the company for which he works comes under investigation. He has a teenage neighbor deliver a note to Hannah saying "Protect her." The "her" is Owen's 16-year-old daughter Bailey, who doesn't like her stepmom.

We don't know where Owen is or whether he's done anything wrong. Quickly, a US Marshal arrives at Hannah's home, followed closely by FBI agents. Not trusting anyone, Hannah takes Bailey and starts her own investigation, which leads to a deeper mystery around Owen and Bailey's identities. Hannah's best friend plays a very small role, as does Hannah's ex-fiancé, who's a lawyer. Hannah is a likeable character, which Sunshine (in my other recent Dave experience) was not.

I wasn't entirely satisfied with the ending. The majority of the book is pretty slow-paced; really close to the end things sort of explode; then there's a short epilogue. It seemed a bit rushed and anticlimactic to me. Overall, I was entertained.

In Music Is History, bestselling author and Sundance award-winning director Questlove harnesses his encyclopedic knowledge of popular music and his deep curiosity about history to examine America over the past fifty years. Choosing one essential track from each year, Questlove unpacks each song’s significance, revealing the pivotal role that American music plays around issues of race, gender, politics, and identity.

Music Is History focuses on the years 1971 to the present, not only the country’s most complex and rewarding half-century when it comes to the ways that pop culture and culturally diverse history intersect and interact, but also the years that overlap with Questlove’s own life. Music Is History moves fluidly from the personal to the political, examining events closely and critically, to unpeel and uncover previously unseen dimensions, and encouraging readers to do the same. Whether he is exploring how Black identity reshaped itself during the blaxploitation era, analyzing the assembly-line nature of disco and its hostility to Black genius, or remembering his own youth as a pop fan and what it taught him about America, Questlove finds the hidden connections in the American tapestry.

Complete with playlists organized around personal, playful themes that touch on everything from the relationship of hip-hop to music’s past to the secret ingredient in all funk songs, Music Is History is filled with and informed by Questlove’s preferences, perspectives, and particularities. It feels like both a popular history of contemporary America and a conversation with one of music's most influential and unique voices. [from the publisher]

If you're not familiar with Questlove (you probably are), he's worth an online search. I am especially glad to have previewed this book via audio narrated by the author, as there is a heavy personal component to the text—best to hear directly from the source. There were also some musical moments (typically fun) and some sound effects (sometimes jarring and usually silly, but OK).

As a music lover myself—and being only a few years older than the author—I was interested in both the historical connections and Questlove's personal commentary. Each chapter starts with a list of some of the year's notable events. Overall, the content was fascinating and the presentation was impactful, somber, delightful, or funny, as warranted by the subject at hand.

Thank you, NetGalley and RB Media, for the audio ARC of the book in exchange for an honest review.

The first day of the 2021 Illinois Library Association Conference is in the bag. It couldn't have gotten off to a better start than to have Clint Smith as the opening general session speaker. He was absolutely captivating and personable. Check out his personal library, which is truly deserving of shelf envy. He pulled a bunch of books off the shelves, one by one, to recommend to us.

Toward the end of this morning's session, Mr. Smith mentioned that signed copies of his latest book (published June 1) are available from a Black-owned bookstore in DC. As soon as the conference day ended, I made my order (including a tiny piece of bookstore swag). Here's the link, if you're going to buy vs. borrow.

#ILAAC21

I almost bailed in the first half (I don't remember the exact spot), but the story started to pick up and seem more promising toward the middle. Shortly thereafter, all hope is yanked away and we start on another painful downturn for April. Overall, the story is unsettling, depressing, and, frankly, sort of boring. One can understand how April would have relationship issues; but, many people have had poor childhood experiences yet manage not to repeatedly self-destruct, leaving collateral damage in their wake.

While I'm usually all about the relationships, April's propensity for making ridiculously poor life choices without regard for the few people who are her true allies was infuriating to me. There are several characters who care deeply for April along the way. My favorites were Margo, Carly, and Ethan.

New York Times bestselling author, comedian, actress, and producer Phoebe Robinson is back with a new essay collection that is equal parts thoughtful, hilarious, and sharp about human connection, race, hair, travel, dating, Black excellence, and more. [from the publisher]

I liked (not super-liked) and own in print Robinson's first book—You Can't Touch My Hair. I missed her second, but will pick up that one another time. This—her third book—is funny (sometimes laugh-out-loud level) and honest (sometimes rightfully sharply). The only passages I flagged for later reflection pertained to allyship. My lack of bookmarking doesn't reflect on my enjoyment of the book.

Robinson has her own publishing imprint, which is pretty cool. I'll be interested to see how that grows beyond her own books.

If you like commentary by comedians (live, on TV, in books, or via podcasts), check out Robinson's work.

Ever since the 2016 election, pundits have been saying our country has never been more divided—that if progressives want to reclaim power, we need to be “pragmatic,” reach across the aisle, and look past identity politics.

But what if we’re getting the story all wrong?

In The Marginalized Majority, Onnesha Roychoudhuri makes the galvanizing case that our voices are already the majority—and that our plurality of identities is not only our greatest strength, but is also at the indisputable core of successful progressive change throughout history.

From the Civil Rights Movement to the Women’s March, Saturday Night Live to the mainstream media, Roychoudhuri holds the myths about our disenfranchisement up to the light, illuminating narratives from history that reveal we have far more power than we’re often led to believe. With both clear-eyed hope and electrifying power, she examines our ideas about what’s possible, and what’s necessary—opening up space for action, new realities, and, ultimately, survival.

Now, Roychoudhuri urges us, is the time to fight like the majority we already are. [from the publisher]

I flagged 14 passages in this short book. Seven of them appear in the Introduction. This leads me to believe that the piece could have been better as a substantial article, instead of a weak book. Still, it's a quick read—if you're intrigued by the publisher's summary, give the book a try.

Tough-minded, vulnerable, and brave, Jocelyn Nicole Johnson’s precisely imagined debut explores burdened inheritances and extraordinary pursuits of belonging. Set in the near future, the eponymous novella, “My Monticello,” tells of a diverse group of Charlottesville neighbors fleeing violent white supremacists. Led by Da’Naisha, a young Black descendant of Thomas Jefferson and Sally Hemings, they seek refuge in Jefferson’s historic plantation home in a desperate attempt to outlive the long-foretold racial and environmental unravelling within the nation.

In “Control Negro,” hailed by Roxane Gay as “one hell of story,” a university professor devotes himself to the study of racism and the development of ACMs (average American Caucasian males) by clinically observing his own son from birth in order to “painstakingly mark the route of this Black child too, one whom I could prove was so strikingly decent and true that America could not find fault in him unless we as a nation had projected it there.” Johnson’s characters all seek out home as a place and an internal state, whether in the form of a Nigerian widower who immigrates to a meager existence in the city of Alexandria, finding himself adrift; a young mixed-race woman who adopts a new tongue and name to escape the landscapes of rural Virginia and her family; or a single mother who seeks salvation through “Buying a House Ahead of the Apocalypse.” [from the publisher]

The publisher's blurb sufficiently describes this short story collection. I'll add a few personal impressions. All the stories were fine-to-good, as short stories go. Of course, one of the limitations of the short story is that it can be hard to imbue enough depth and commitment to characters and action. Johnson uses rich language to give heft and emotion to each story.

"Control Negro" is narrated by Levar Burton, and might be my favorite in the collection. "My Monticello"—the longest story—is also in the running. [Early in that story, I thought it was my favorite; but, by the end I wasn't sure.] I didn't care for the narrator of this piece—her performance was flat and monotonous. The topic was timely and jarring, given our country's resurgence of violent white supremacist demonstrations and attacks.

I definitely recommend the collection, and I'll be interested in reading more work from Johnson.

Thank you, NetGalley and Macmillan Audio, for the audio ARC of the book in exchange for an honest review.

It's Zinnia Gray's twenty-first birthday, which is extra-special because it's the last birthday she'll ever have. When she was young, an industrial accident left Zinnia with a rare condition. Not much is known about her illness, just that no-one has lived past twenty-one.

Her best friend Charm is intent on making Zinnia's last birthday special with a full sleeping beauty experience, complete with a tower and a spinning wheel. But when Zinnia pricks her finger, something strange and unexpected happens, and she finds herself falling through worlds, with another sleeping beauty, just as desperate to escape her fate. [from the publisher]

In A Spindle Splintered, the sleeping beauties take charge of their own fates. The story is told by Zin, a woman from present-day Ohio. The wicked witch who cursed Princess Primrose makes an appearance and important contribution to the story.

This is a short, feminist reboot of the Sleeping Beauty tale. This is a novella, so don't expect fully fleshed characters or multiverses. Just enjoy it for what it is. To me, it was a fun romp with a little food for thought. I'll read it again when the print book is published (expected October 5) in order to view the illustrations.

There are some themes that may be difficult for sensitive readers. If you are one or are choosing for one, you may want to dig a little deeper (or ask your librarian) to determine if it's a good fit for you.

Thank you, NetGalley, Macmillan Audio, and Tor, for the audio ARC of the book in exchange for an honest review.

In 2002, with her sister, Hind, and their friend, Nihal, [Nadia Wassef] founded Diwan, a fiercely independent bookstore. They were three young women with no business degrees, no formal training, and nothing to lose. At the time, nothing like Diwan existed in Egypt. Culture was languishing under government mismanagement, and books were considered a luxury, not a necessity. Ten years later, Diwan had become a rousing success, with ten locations, 150 employees, and a fervent fan base.

Frank, fresh, and very funny, Nadia Wassef’s memoir tells the story of this journey. Its eclectic cast of characters features Diwan’s impassioned regulars, like the demanding Dr. Medhat; Samir, the driver with CEO aspirations; meditative and mythical Nihal; silent but deadly Hind; dictatorial and exacting Nadia, a self-proclaimed bitch to work with; and the many people, mostly men, who said Diwan would never work.

Shelf Life is a portrait of a country hurtling toward revolution, a feminist rallying cry, and an unapologetic crash course in running a business under the law of entropy. Above all, it is a celebration of the power of words to bring us home. [from the publisher]

From the moment I heard this book was coming (expected publication date October 5), I was ever-so-anxious to read it. Learning about three women building a successful business in a religiously conservative patriarchy—and including the Arab Spring protests/rebellions starting in 2011—was fascinating.

The book is loosely organized by chapters relating to the genre sections of the bookshop. This didn't prove as effective or interesting a tool as it might have been.

Aspects I especially liked: history of the area; description of the particular challenges women business owners face in Egypt; the bookstore as a third place (community-building); discussion about what makes a book a classic; some of the anecdotes involving individual people in her life; anecdote of her visit to the censorship office; the author's personal empowerment.

Aspects I didn't like as much: repetition of certain themes [how tough she is to work with/for; marriage failure (or divorce success)]; excessive/gratuitous swearing; the rest/bulk of the anecdotes about individuals.

Thank you, NetGalley and Dreamscape Media, for the audio ARC of the book in exchange for an honest review.

5-star read

• Harlem Shuffle, Colson Whitehead

4-star reads

• An Ordinary Wonder, Buki Papillon
• 33 Women, Isabel Ashdown (4+)
• Under the Whispering Door, TJ Klune (4+)

honorable mention (3+ or 4-)

• The Orphan Witch, Paige Crutcher (3+/4-)
• The Final Girl Support Group, Grady Hendrix (3+/4-)

Good Omens meets The Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet in this defiantly joyful adventure set in California's San Gabriel Valley, with cursed violins, Faustian bargains, and queer alien courtship over fresh-made donuts.

Shizuka Satomi made a deal with the devil: to escape damnation, she must entice seven other violin prodigies to trade their souls for success. She has already delivered six.

When Katrina Nguyen, a young transgender runaway, catches Shizuka's ear with her wild talent, Shizuka can almost feel the curse lifting. She's found her final candidate.

But in a donut shop off a bustling highway in the San Gabriel Valley, Shizuka meets Lan Tran, retired starship captain, interstellar refugee, and mother of four. Shizuka doesn't have time for crushes or coffee dates, what with her very soul on the line, but Lan's kind smile and eyes like stars might just redefine a soul's worth. And maybe something as small as a warm donut is powerful enough to break a curse as vast as the California coastline.

As the lives of these three women become entangled by chance and fate, a story of magic, identity, curses, and hope begins, and a family worth crossing the universe for is found. [from the publisher]

The only comparison I see between Good Omens (which I've read twice so far) and Light From Uncommon Stars is that there are demon characters in both—several (and more prominent) in the former; one (of minimal importance, overall) in the latter. As for Light From Uncommon Stars being a "defiantly joyful adventure," I'm afraid I have to take exception to that, too. There is little humor or happiness in the book (put a pin in this statement for a moment). Instead, there is racism, oppression, misogyny, and abuse. This is particularly true for Katrina, who is misgendered, deadnamed, assaulted, and more.

The book jumps willy-nilly from one character and topic to another. At the same time, there isn't a lot of movement in the story. It felt particularly and painfully long in that very little actually happens.

Light From Uncommon Stars is not without merit. There's a heavily female cast of characters—in addition to those highlighted in the publisher's summary, there's a female assistant/housekeeper to Ms. Satomi who is a real gem; a violin master builder/repairer from a line of (male) masters; and two of Ms. Tran's children, who are smart and warm. Several close/warm relationships form during the story, across generations and backgrounds. The book celebrates music (particularly but not exclusively violin) and food. It is in the relationships, music, and food that satisfaction and happiness can be found.

While this wasn't a stunner for me, it might be for you.

Content warnings (incomplete): racism, transphobia, sexual assault, violence.

Thank you, NetGalley, Macmillan Audio, and Tor Books, for the audio ARC of the book in exchange for an honest review.

Ava Simon designs storage boxes for STÄDA, a slick Brooklyn-based furniture company. She’s hard-working, obsessive, and heartbroken from a tragedy that killed her girlfriend and upended her life. It’s been years since she’s let anyone in.

But when Ava’s new boss—the young and magnetic Mat Putnam—offers Ava a ride home one afternoon, an unlikely relationship blossoms. Ava remembers how rewarding it can be to open up—and, despite her instincts, she becomes enamored. But Mat isn’t who he claims to be, and the romance takes a sharp turn.

The Very Nice Box is a funny, suspenseful debut—with a shocking twist. It’s at once a send-up of male entitlement and a big-hearted account of grief, friendship, and trust. [from the publisher]

This has been recommended for fans of Eleanor Oliphant Is Completely Fine, which I am not. Let's start there. There are, no doubt, plenty of strong introverts who are smart, good at their jobs, and socially anxious (or outright socially inept). I am sensitive to their feelings, and in no way disparaging. It's just that—as an extremely introverted, smart, competent person who can be, actually, quite social (with appropriate periods of solitude to replenish my energy)—I'd like to see more books with main characters like me. That is, it would be nice if the extroverts of the world understood that not all introverts are shy and/or antisocial. See The Bookish Life of Nina Hill as a decent example.

In The Very Nice Box, Ava is on (or at least quite near) the Eleanor Oliphant end of the social spectrum, though she does stretch far outside her norm as the story progresses. We understand her hesitancy to trust and care for others, considering the loss of both her girlfriend/fiancé and her parents in a horrific auto accident of which she was the only survivor. Ava is devoted to her dog, and has one friend at work, with whom she has regular, weekly lunches . . . until she gets involved with Mat.

The company is clearly meant to resemble IKEA, with product names like "alert percolator," "peaceful headphones," "polite hamper," "studious backpack," and so many more (including the titular "very nice box"). I didn't catch on right away that this was going to be such a big deal, so I was late to capturing these product names. Still, I recorded 32 names. Some of the products are cited multiple times each. It was funny at first, but eventually contributed to the company's somewhat cultish feel. I'm sure that was purposeful.

The publisher's description refers to a "shocking twist," which isn't revealed until beyond the 90% mark. It's pretty good, though I don't think most thriller readers will be entirely surprised. I thought the bulk of the story/build-up was slow and tedious, but enjoyed the excitement of the climax and conclusion.

Pro: diverse characters (age, race, sexuality); women in STEM roles; relationships, including outside of the main and secondary characters; humor (light); twistiness (minimal, eventually).

In horror movies, the final girl is the one who's left standing when the credits roll. The one who fought back, defeated the killer, and avenged her friends. The one who emerges bloodied but victorious. But after the sirens fade and the audience moves on, what happens to her? [from the publisher]

I've never been a horror movie fan. I begrudgingly admit that I might be approaching fan-adjacent in horror literature. The Final Girl Support Group piqued my morbid curiosity.

Lynnette Tarkington is one of six real-life final girls in a support group led by a therapist. Lyn is the narrator of this book, which was sloooooooooooow to capture my interest. My inertia (or maybe it was my concentration on my art project) yesterday afternoon (don't judge—it was Saturday) worked in the book's favor—I couldn't be bothered to flip back to my Libby shelf to start the next book on-deck. As it turns out, I'm glad I didn't bail. The book finally gets interesting when the action and mystery ramp up. It automatically gets points for keeping me guessing on the bad guy's identity, offsetting my early inclination to bail.

I marked only one passage, which summarizes my longstanding thoughts about "entertainment."

But, what does it say about us that so much of the entertainment we consume is about killing women? I want you to think about that. How is the murder of women fun? [Chapter XXII]

Harlem Shuffle’s ingenious story plays out in a beautifully recreated New York City of the early 1960s. It’s a family saga masquerading as a crime novel, a hilarious morality play, a social novel about race and power, and ultimately a love letter to Harlem. [from the publisher]

Ray Carney is a furniture salesman and family man. After his cousin Freddie volunteers him to serve as fence for the loot from a hotel heist, Ray gains a side hustle with a new, shady clientele, and the internal battle between his "striver" and "crook" selves begins.

I'm a tiny bit embarrassed to admit that this is my first Whitehead read. I'm going to try not to be too hard on myself, though, as there is limited time to read and stiff competition for his books from the library immediately after publication. I only got my hands on this one so quickly because I was determined not to miss out again. [The cost was a many months–long slot on my Overdrive hold list. Worth it!]

This is the second book in just over a month that is getting a rare 5-star rating from me. The language, story, humor, action, relationships, characters, and commentary were exquisitely done. I was so involved that I blew off most of yesterday in favor of reading. [That was worth it, too!]

A deeper magic. A stronger curse. A family lost . . . and found.

Persephone May has been alone her entire life. Abandoned as an infant and dragged through the foster care system, she wants nothing more than to belong somewhere. To someone. However, Persephone is as strange as she is lonely. Unexplainable things happen when she’s around—changes in weather, inanimate objects taking flight—and those who seek to bring her into their family quickly cast her out. To cope, she never gets attached, never makes friends. And she certainly never dates. Working odd jobs and always keeping her suitcases half-packed, Persephone is used to moving around, leaving one town for another when curiosity over her eccentric behavior inevitably draws unwanted attention.

After an accidental and very public display of power, Persephone knows it’s time to move on once again. It’s lucky, then, when she receives an email from the one friend she’s managed to keep, inviting her to the elusive Wile Isle. The timing couldn’t be more perfect. However, upon arrival, Persephone quickly discovers that Wile is no ordinary island. In fact, it just might hold the very things she’s been searching for her entire life.

Answers. Family. Home

And some things she did not want. Like 100-year-old curses and an even older family feud. With the clock running out, love might be the magic that saves them all. [from the publisher]

One of the pieces of author praise for The Orphan Witch relates this author to Alice Hoffman (Practical Magic series) and Sara Addison Allen (Garden Spells/Waverley Family series). I get it, but those are awfully big shoes with which to saddle a newish novel writer. [The blurb in question says it's Crutcher's debut, but she had a book published in 2014 and has contributed to a couple of anthologies.] When I started reading, I was pleasantly surprised. I thought finally a comparison had been made that wouldn't end up disappointing me. This held for most of the book. I was all in for the premise, the now-32-year-old Persephone going to Wile Isle, the magic/witchcraft, and the family feud. I wasn't keen on the romance aspect, but it was a relatively small portion of the story. Really, I was engaged for most of the book. Then we got to the climax and it all fell apart. While I'm not completely alone in my mild disappointment, the majority of advance readers seem to really love it. So, don't be discouraged to read.

Thank you, NetGalley and MacmillanAudio/St. Martin's Griffin, for the audio ARC of the book in exchange for an honest review.

Lila Nash is on the verge of landing her dream job—working as a prosecutor under the Hennepin County Attorney—and has settled into a happy life with her boyfriend, Joe Talbert. But when a woman is pulled from the Mississippi River, barely alive, things in the office take a personal turn.

The police believe the woman’s assailant is local photographer Gavin Spenser, but the case quickly flounders as the evidence wears thin. It seems Gavin saw this investigation coming—and no one can imagine how carefully he has prepared.

The more determined Lila is to put Gavin behind bars, the more elusive justice becomes. Battling a vindictive new boss and haunted by the ghosts of her own unspeakable attack, which she’s kept a dark secret for eight long years, Lila knows the clock is ticking down. In a race against an evil mastermind, it will take everything Lila’s got to outsmart a killer—and to escape the dark hold of her own past. [from the publisher]

I have been so impressed with everything I've read of Eskens' . . . until now. I was really looking forward to reading The Stolen Hours, in which Lila Nash—who was a secondary character in The Life We Bury—is now the lead. I like how Eskens connects his books by shifting the lead character (and the point on their timeline). Unfortunately, where his books I've read previously concentrate on relationships and intricate storytelling, this one focused far too heavily on two things: the rape perpetrated by two men against Lila years before (admittedly pertinent to the modus operandi of the main case of this story) and Gavin's speech impediment. These two items are brought up so constantly that there's significantly less story crafting than I'm used to from Eskens. There are other threads in the story—but my overall sense as I was reading was that these two themes were overemphasized to the detriment of the story.

Content warnings include rape, murder, date rape drug, and attempted suicide.

The song surrounded her now, the murmuring of the library insistent, and her foot took the first step on the winding stairs. She knew it wasn’t entirely a dream. It was the library calling her, its magic driving her.

When Sophie is offered a job at the Ayredale Library—the finest collection of rare books in the world, and the last place her bookbinder mother was seen when Sophie was just a teenager—she leaps at the chance. Will she finally discover what happened to the woman she’s always believed abandoned her?

Taking in the endless shelves of antique books, the soaring stained-glass windows, and the grand sweeping staircase, usually shy Sophie feels strangely at home, and is welcomed by her eccentric fellow binders. But why is the Keeper of the Library so reluctant to speak about Sophie’s mother? And why is Sophie the only person who can read the strange spells in the oldest books on display, written in a forgotten language nobody else understands?

The mysteries of the library only deepen when Sophie stumbles upon an elaborately carved door. The pattern exactly matches the pendant her mother left behind years ago, engraved with a delicate leaf. As the door swings open at her touch, Sophie gasps at the incredible sight: an enormous tree, impossibly growing higher than the library itself, its gently falling golden leaves somehow resembling the pages of a book. Amidst their rustling, Sophie hears a familiar whisper . . .

‘There you are, my Sophie. I knew you’d come back for me.’ [from the publisher]

As a super-fan of everything books and libraries, and typically enjoying fantasy stories, I was immediately attracted by the title and premise of The Bookbinder's Daughter. I couldn't wait to dig in. It was . . . okay. It has enticing elements: magic, books, a cat named Titivillus (patron demon of scribes), and secrets (mystery). It's also painfully repetitive, especially for a work so short—we hear the same things, in the same exact words, over and over, sometimes from different characters (which doesn't make it more interesting). In the opening, there's a work friend of Sophie's whose character I would have liked to have stayed in play—their friendship might have been the best/healthiest relationship in the book (this is very sad). There's a particularly unhealthy relationship that made me like and respect Sophie much less as the story went on. The reveal toward the end wasn't bad, but it doesn't make up for the bulk of the book. Titivillus the cat was probably my favorite character (also sad).

The book is advertised as being perfect for fans of The Night Circus, which I awarded 4- stars (3.66 in my current rating system). I think a better magical book about books is Mr. Penumbra's 24-Hour Bookstore, which I awarded 4+ stars (4.35).

Thank you, NetGalley and Bookouture Audio, for the audio ARC of the book in exchange for an honest review.

In a boarded-up house on a dead-end street at the edge of the wild Washington woods lives a family of three.

A teenage girl who isn’t allowed outside, not after last time.

A man who drinks alone in front of his TV, trying to ignore the gaps in his memory.

And a house cat who loves napping and reading the Bible.

An unspeakable secret binds them together, but when a new neighbor moves in next door, what is buried out among the birch trees may come back to haunt them all. [from the publisher]

If you're a fan of nonstop creepiness, you'll want to go into this horror book without having read summaries or reviews. There's really not a lot that can be said without ruining the story. If you read it (or absolutely must know before reading) and want to email to ask me why I didn't rate this higher, I'll be happy to tell you. [It's a writing mechanism, not a story-specific thing.] Regardless of rating, the story kept my attention, and I was piecing together the clues.

There is so much creepiness in the story (from so many directions) that there's next to no relief. There were occasional tiny breaks in the tension, notably one each from Ted (the adult resident of the titular house) and Olivia (the feline resident of the titular house), that I hope make it to publication.

Most of the story is told by Ted and Olivia, with occasional chapters by Lauren (Ted's daughter) and Dee.

Thank you, NetGalley and Macmillan Audio/Tor Nightfire, for the audio ARC of the book in exchange for an honest review.

Masha remembers her childhood in the former USSR but found her life and heart in Israel. Anna was just an infant when her family fled but yearns to find her roots. When Anna is contacted by a stranger from their homeland and then disappears, Masha is called home to Milwaukee to find her.

In 2008, college student Anna feels stuck in Milwaukee, with no real connections and parents who stifle her artistic talents. She is eager to have a life beyond the heartland. When she’s contacted online by a stranger from their homeland—a girl claiming to be her long-lost sister—Anna suspects a ruse or an attempt at extortion. But her desperate need to connect with her homeland convinces her to pursue the connection. At the same time, a handsome grifter comes into her life, luring her with the prospect of a nomadic lifestyle.

Masha lives in Israel, where she went on Birthright and unexpectedly found home. When Anna disappears without a trace, Masha’s father calls her back to Milwaukee to help find Anna. In her former home, Masha immerses herself in her sister’s life—which forces her to recall the life she, too, left behind and to confront her own demons. What she finds in her search for Anna will change her life, and her family, forever. [from the publisher]

This is being billed as both general adult fiction and a mystery/thriller. I disagree heartily with the mystery/thriller designation. In a nutshell, two sisters feel pulled to different places that seem like home to them. The book feels so much longer than its 299 pages because it is tediously detailed (about the wrong things, in my opinion), repetitious, and slow. Not one of the characters is appealing. There are a couple of potentially interesting scenes with the paternal grandparents, but they are basically the same scene repeated for both sisters. The ending is anticlimactic.

For sensitive viewers, the book includes illicit drug use/abuse, alcohol abuse, swearing, violence, personal endangerment, suicide, and theft/burglary.

I probably should have bailed at first sign of boredom and disgust. I kept reading because I was hopeful that it was going to redeem itself. Alas, I found nothing good or satisfying.

Nonetheless, I am grateful to NetGalley and Dreamscape Media for the audio ARC of the book in exchange for an honest review.

When a reaper comes to collect Wallace Price from his own funeral, Wallace suspects he really might be dead.

Instead of leading him directly to the afterlife, the reaper takes him to a small village. On the outskirts, off the path through the woods, tucked between mountains, is a particular tea shop, run by a man named Hugo. Hugo is the tea shop's owner to locals and the ferryman to souls who need to cross over.

But Wallace isn’t ready to abandon the life he barely lived. With Hugo’s help he finally starts to learn about all the things he missed in life.

When the Manager, a curious and powerful being, arrives at the tea shop and gives Wallace one week to cross over, Wallace sets about living a lifetime in seven days. [from the publisher]

I really liked Klune's The House in the Cerulean Sea—published March 2020/read May 2020—so, I was thrilled to be granted the opportunity to read his new book before publication.

This book has two of my absolute favorite ingredients: lots of humor and relationships. It also has diversity, inclusion, heartbreak, and grief. Not many books make me cry. This one made me cry several times, particularly near the end, and out of sadness, rage, and joy. That's quite the trick!

There's a lot going on in the story, with several interlocking storylines. One storyline was particularly unpleasant, and I think the book would have been at least as good without it. I can't say that I enjoyed the aforementioned emotional rollercoaster, but it was incredibly effective. Even though Wallace was an unlikeable so-and-so in life, we're really rooting for him from very early on. Perhaps that's due to the tea shop residents: Mae (the reaper), Hugo (the ferryman), Nelson (Hugo's grandfather), and Apollo (the dog), who are all fantastic from the outset.

Thank you, NetGalley, Macmillan Audio, and Tor Books, for the audio ARC of the book in exchange for an honest review.

When sisters Celine and Pip get a call telling them their reclusive mother has died, the women are reunited at her riverside home in Arundel to pick up the pieces. But someone is missing—their middle sister, Vanessa, brutally murdered years ago and the victim of an unsolved case. As the sisters confront ghosts from the past, the discovery of another body in similar circumstances throws new light on Vanessa's death. Could there be more to her case than the police first thought? And what do the mysterious residents of Two Cross Farm, the neighboring women's commune, have to do with it? What secrets are lurking behind their locked gates? And what is the significance of the number 33? [from the publisher]

The publisher's teaser is as much as one needs before diving in to the book—for me to share more would ruin the surprises, of which there are several. The story is told in alternating chapters from the points of view of Celine, the oldest sister, and Bramble, a member of the women's commune. It was challenging, at first, to keep track of the speaker and the time [past (back to the 1970s) or present (2019)] at the start. Many other characters—predominantly but not exclusively women—come in to play, both from the world at large and the membership of the commune.

This appears to be Ashdown's ninth book (with another expected for publication next summer), but my first exposure to her work; so I wasn't sure what to expect. I'll definitely seek out more. My biggest compliment to this book is that I didn't want to stop reading it.

Thank you, NetGalley and Dreamscape Media, for the audio ARC of the book in exchange for an honest review.

One possible explanation is the fairy tale aspect to TBoLT—I've never been a fan of fairy tales, generally, because so many of them are downright creepy and gross. But how is that different from so much of the fantasy I really enjoy? I'm not entirely sure.

David is a young preteen/teen who has lost his mother to illness. His father remarries and has a second son. David's books whisper to him. One day, he goes exploring and finds himself in another world, full of dangers. There is a lot of loss, trickery, and gore in this book.

If you like dark, mysterious fantasy with a side of reimagined fairy tales, give it a try.

Ruth Devon starred for Georgetown Basketball back in college—until she injured her knee, married her coach, and found a new career calling games on the radio. Twenty years later, Ruth and her now-ex-husband, Lester, are two of the most famous faces in sports media. When Lester decides to retire from the announcers’ booth, Ruth goes after his job. If she gets it, she will be the first woman to call NBA games on national television.

For now, Ruth is reporting from the sideline of the NBA finals, immersed in the high-pressure spectacle of the post-season. But in a deserted locker room at halftime, Ruth makes a discovery that shatters her vision of her future. Instantly, she is torn between the two things she has always wanted most: the game and motherhood. [from the publisher]

I'm a sucker for sports stories. Weekends growing up (except during the Midwest's relatively short sailing season) were spent in front of the TV watching hockey, soccer, basketball, baseball, tennis, (less) football, boxing, and even bowling—not to mention every sport in the summer or winter Olympics—with my dad. [Even better was getting to go to live games—that was a special (and occasional) treat.] Watching so much televised sports really does make a person feel like they know the commentators who visited our living rooms multiple times a week. So, I jumped at the chance to read The Second Season, which offered the bonus of a woman commentator (not common in the 1970s—I'm not sure I could name one from that time).

The book presents the difficulties of women in traditionally male-dominated fields, the challenges of juggling work and motherhood, and the crushing disappointment of career-ending injuries. The book is largely consumed by Ruth's regrets about being frequently absent from her daughter's childhood (the daughter is a high-school senior during the story) and her frustration and worry over whether she'll get the announcing job her ex-husband is vacating.

The action really didn't pick up until around the 80% mark, and then it jumps around strangely between present and future. I wish more attention had been given to some of the relationships, particularly between Ruth and a couple of other women sports reporters. There's also a plot point that seemed incongruous with her supposed strong desire for motherhood.

Thank you, NetGalley and Blackstone Publishing, for the audio ARC of the book in exchange for an honest review.

Richly imagined with art, proverbs and folk tales, this moving and modern novel follows Oto through life at home and at boarding school in Nigeria, through the heartbreak of living as a boy despite their profound belief they are a girl, and through a hunger for freedom that only a new life in the United States can offer.

An Ordinary Wonder is a powerful coming-of-age story that explores complex desires as well as challenges of family, identity, gender and culture, and what it means to feel whole. [from the publisher]

Oto is an intersex twin being raised as a boy. Oto's unclear genitalia is considered shameful by their family and efforts are made to hide Oto's condition from the greater community because of the expected stigma. Oto's father left the family because of it; Oto's mother blames Oto and abuses them throughout their life. Oto's grandmothers appear unsympathetic as well. Oto's twin sister is their champion in early life, but eventually even she turns her back on Oto.

Once Oto escapes home for boarding school, some aspects of daily life are better; but there are still serious threats to their safety, including violent bullies. Two relationships at school are quite positive: roommate and fast friend Derin and art teacher Mr. Dickson. [There is a helpful school nurse, who plays a pivotal, though minor, role.] The story takes place "before" (mostly in the late 1980s, when Oto is 12–13, at home, also some brief references to Oto's birth) and "now" (in the early 1990s, when Oto is 14–16, at boarding school and beyond).

The heartbreaking violence and abuse Oto experiences make up the lion's share of the story—it's not a light read. Thankfully, there's also some fantastic humor, especially around family relationships. Other positive themes include chosen family and self-understanding. So, while the overall tone is very dark, ultimately, I was rooting for Oto throughout and eventually handsomely rewarded with happier events. This debut novel had me pretty hooked.

The audio edition is narrated by British film, television, stage, and radio actress Adjoa Andoh, of whom some Americans may know from Netflix's Bridgerton. Andoh's voice has quite an effective range, easily differentiating between male and female characters and between calm/melodic and shrill personalities/voices.

Content warnings include child abuse, rape, violence, bullying, homophobia, suicidal ideation/suicide attempts.

Thank you, NetGalley and OrangeSky Audio, for the audio ARC of the book in exchange for an honest review.

5-star reads

• The Monster at the End of this Book, Jon Stone (reread)
• The Guncle,Steven Rowley

4-star reads

• Garden Spells (Waverley Family #1), Sarah Addison (reread, 4+/5-)
• How Y'all Doing?: Misadventures and Mischief from a Life Well Lived, Leslie Jordan

honorable mention (3+ or 4-)

• Company Town, Madeline Ashby (3+)
• Scythe (Arc of a Scythe #1), Neal Shusterman (3+/4-)
• Have You Seen Luis Velez?, Catherine Ryan Hyde (4-)
• You're Going to Mars!, Rob Dircks (4-)
• Just One Damned Thing After Another (The Chronicles of St Mary's #1), Jodi Taylor (3+/4-)
• Sunny Days: The Children's Television Revolution That Changed America, David Kamp (3+)
• The Girl Beneath the Sea (Underwater Investigation Unit #1), Andrew Mayne (3+)
• Lethal Bayou Beauty (Miss Fortune Mystery #2), Jana Deleon (3+/4-)

There's a lot going on thematically: coming of age/teen angst, mental health, bullying, incest, rape, racism, suicide, murder, gun violence, and homophobia. I don't think the horror vehicle was necessarily the best choice—all the real issues were overshadowed by the paranormal activity.

The story is told in alternating chapters/voices of Jake and Sawyer.

When aspiring actress Pansy Arceneaux returns to Sinful, Louisiana, to head up the beauty pageant portion of the Summer Festival, CIA assassin Fortune Redding knows she’s in for trouble. Her undercover identity as a former beauty queen makes Fortune the perfect choice to chair the event with Pansy, but Pansy’s abrasive personality makes it impossible to get through a single rehearsal without a fight.

When Pansy turns up dead, Fortune is the prime suspect. [from marketing description]

This is the second in a 20-book (thus far) series. Like the first installment, it's a romp! Fortune is joined again by her best biddies . . . I mean, buddies . . . Gertie and Ida Belle, along with some help from Marie (the prime suspect in the first book). Hot Deputy Carter LeBlanc is back, along with a supporting cast of townspeople.

If you're unwilling to suspend disbelief, this isn't the book/series for you. But, if you need some silly fun that requires no thought or effort, enjoy away! I already have the third book locked and loaded for the near future.

Not all is lost. I did like several of August's roommates, neighbors, and coworkers at Billy's diner. That hardly carries the story, though. Too, there was interesting contrast between 1970s and current attitudes around gender and sexuality.

I wouldn't say that I actively disliked OLS—it just didn't light me up, as it seems to do for so many readers. So, I wouldn't discourage you from reading this book, if it sounds appealing. I would definitely recommend McQuiston's first book instead or in addition.

Content warning: explicit sex scenes, excessive alcohol use/abuse, drug use.

This book was highly rated by a couple of my bookish friends who generally seem to like things that I like, and the series seems to be highly regarded by a good number of readers. I thought this book was worth a shot. I'm guessing that I picked it up in an Audible sale. Sadly, the series doesn't seem to be available from our library, and I didn't love this one enough to invest in further purchases.

Pro: strong female lead; interlocking storylines; character with physical and communication challenges

Con: downright gruesome; disappointing/foreseeable plot twist

I wanted to love this book, both because of Pohl's incredible renown in the science fiction world and because I enjoyed the friendship of his wife, Betty Hull (who just recently died—she was a writer, professor, activist, and all-around smart and funny person). There were definitely aspects of this book whose influence I can see in the sci-fi writers who followed Pohl. I'll give him credit for that.

The premise: hired killer wants to retire. Given my enjoyment of TV/films of a similar premise—including Barry and Wild Target—I expected to really like this as well. Unfortunately, Billy Summers has little to none of the charm and humor of those.

There are some brief relationships between Billy and others (including neighbor children) that were pleasant enough, but it hardly makes up for the rest, especially as the book draws out so long.

Beyond the obvious violence expected in a murder story, content warnings include rape, retaliatory rape, and child rape. Ugh (to put it mildly)!

This first installment in a new series (published May 2020; second published early this year; third expected March 2022), this was interesting and engaging enough that I snagged the ebook and audiobook editions of the second installment in an excellent combo deal while the getting was good. I won't be in a mad rush to read the second one—there are plenty of things that need to come off the TBR list sooner—but, I'll look forward to reading it when the moment feels right.

There isn't typically much room for levity in a mystery/thriller, but there was a tiny bit of banter between Sloan and George:

“How come you have a kid but you’re not married?”

“Because it’s not 1905. Women can vote now too.”

click here for G-rated thought

"You've got to be kidding me!"

click here for my true/naughty thought

"Bitch, please!"

Pro: the premise of 14-year-old Mary Jane's summer of caring for five-year-old Izzy [I was between their ages at the time of the story]; the idea of music uniting people

Con: Mary Jane's completely implausible level of naïveté; the utter neglect and endangerment on the part of four adults in Izzy's household; the very end (talk to me if/when you get there)

Patrick is a possibly-retired 40-ish sitcom actor who has been secluded for several years after the end of his hit series and the death of his life partner. After his college best friend/sister-in-law dies of cancer, his brother admits that he needs to enter rehab—could Patrick take care of his niece Maisie (age 9) and nephew Grant (age 6) for the summer in his Palm Springs home? As one would expect, everyone involved manages their grief and new circumstances differently and over time. There are a few additional characters who join the mix, including old and new agents, an older sister, a gay throuple next door, a dog, and a possible new love interest.

Fairly early in the book, Patrick and Maisie have this interchange in a restaurant:

Bacon is pigs and pigs are our friends. Do you want to eat our friends?

If they taste like bacon!

I flagged several quotes. Here's my favorite:

Aren't dreams the best? I think our dreams are what sustain us in hard times. Dreams are what keep us childlike. I love that they can grow and expand as we grow and expand.

In this YA contemporary queer romance from the author of Hot Dog Girl, an openly gay track star falls for a closeted, bisexual teen beauty queen with a penchant for fixing up old cars. [from publisher website]

Morgan (the athlete) and Ruby (the beauty queen/mechanic) didn't capture my heart or attention. There's too much relationship nonsense and game-playing in the story and too little of the good things. Pros: realistic portrayal of wide range of family and community support (none to high) around gender and sexuality issues; "pretty" girls who are also smart and talented; community volunteerism of members of the LGBTQ and allies student group.

In Sunny Days, bestselling author David Kamp captures the unique political and social moment that gave us not only Sesame Street, but also Fred Rogers’s gentle yet brave Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood; Marlo Thomas’s unabashed gender politics primer Free to Be . . . You and Me; Schoolhouse Rock!, an infectious series of educational shorts dreamed up by Madison Ave admen; and more, including The Electric Company and ZOOM. It was a unique time when an uncommon number of media professionals and thought leaders leveraged their influence to help children learn—and, just as notably, a time of unprecedented buy-in from American parents. [from publisher website]

While evoking nostalgia, Sunny Days reads a fair amount like a textbook—that is, Kamp's research and interviews are interesting, but often dry. The author and I are the same age, so we shared this children's educational television journey. Much of the Sesame Street and Mister Rogers' Neighborhood coverage was familiar to me from my previous reading. It's not often, though, that Free to Be . . . You and Me, The Electric Company, and ZOOM come up now—that was a special treat. Toward the end of the book, Kamp brings up later children's television that didn't make the quality grade of these shows from our childhood (including/particularly offerings that were really just promotional tie-ins), and good children's educational television of my kids' generation, including Bear In the Big Blue House, and Blue's Clues, among others.

In this series, protagonist Dr. Madeleine "Max" Maxwell gets recruited to a secret society in which historians time travel to observe and record history in its own time. The story was moving right along, with excitement and witty banter, and I was having a grand time until a scene that I'm guessing was supposed to be hot/sexy/passionate was decidedly rapey instead. That, along with a rush-job toward the end when the historians were visiting the Library of Alexandria, cost the book a couple of rating dings.

If you're looking for some (mostly) silly, sci-fi/time travel fun, and you're willing not to think too hard about it, this could be a book for you. I'm very possibly going to keep going with the series, at least for a bit.

Maggie Hoskie is the monster hunter main character. Is this a good thing or a bad thing? She's depended on when a town needs her help, but generally vilified by others and herself.

Some of the language and themes—including an elder medicine man; the tradition of introducing oneself in relation to one's family origins/skills/blessings; and a pivotal role for Coyote—will be familiar to readers of the Hillermans. The post-apocalyptic and monster hunter aspects dominate the story and make it much less interesting. The book becomes less mythology and mystery and more extreme violence and dull repetition. There is a cliffhanger ending that made me wonder whether I might read the second installment out of morbid curiosity. I think blogging my reading impressions has effectively quashed that curiosity.

If, like I, you occasionally enjoy very silly science fiction with a side of social commentary and/or pop culture references, this might be a pick for you. I didn't enjoy this one quite as much as Redshirts (John Scalzi) or We Are Legion (We Are Bob) (Dennis E. Taylor), but it's along the same lines.

The story develops slowly and with some whiny awkwardness. Some reviewers took exception with the racial and social justice themes; I thought those themes were handled appropriately. While the friendship Raymond forms with Millie is one of the main focuses of the story, other notable/important/sweet relationships stem from his search for Luis.

Super Grover—a thoughtful and perfect gift from Number One Son—was my social media cover photo at the time that I first met Jeff and Jeanette. Since then, we've discovered many other shared affinities.

May Jeanette's memory be a blessing. I know that countless children and families will experience delight in the beautiful storyroom dedicated to her for years to come.

A world with no hunger, no disease, no war, no misery: humanity has conquered all those things, and has even conquered death. Now Scythes are the only ones who can end life—and they are commanded to do so, in order to keep the size of the population under control.

Citra and Rowan are chosen to apprentice to a scythe—a role that neither wants. These teens must master the “art” of taking life, knowing that the consequence of failure could mean losing their own. [from publisher website]

I'm not entirely sure how I feel about—or how to rate—Scythe, which is a YA science fiction/fantasy/dystopia. It's a fine contribution to its genre. I wanted to know what was going to happen next, and I've already decided to read the second installment. There were some predictable turns; there were a couple of fun twists. I have reservations about extreme violence (and other human ills) being considered entertainment.

Fun fact: Author Neal Shusterman solicits fans to name his characters, picking one fan's first name and matching it with another's last name. One of the main characters in Scythe—Rowan Damisch—got his last name from a family friend of ours, Bridie (we're friends with the entire Damisch family, but Bridie is the Shusterman fan). Sadly, the correct pronunciation of the family name wasn't verified (it's a long "a," as in "dame"). I know this because I read the book with my ears. But even those who read it with their eyes can tell because of one of the chapter names: "Damisch Control" (meant to sound like "damage control"—cute, no?). Oh, well—if Rowan appears in the next installment, I'll just continue to translate in my head.

Hwa is the last organic (not bioengineered/enhanced) woman in her community. As the story opens, Hwa works as a bodyguard and physical/personal safety trainer for sex workers, but quits to protect and train the young, male, future head of the community's wealthiest and most powerful family/corporation.

It took a while to get into the story, and it wasn't all smooth sailing once I got there. The book seems choppy—it can't make up its mind what it wants to be. There are some ultraviolent sequences, including fighting and serial murder. There are a couple of affectionate relationships late in the story, some parts of which work better than others. Overall, it's not all bad. I'm glad I stuck with it.

Back to Garden Spells. . . . The Waverley women—Aunt Evanelle, Claire (older sister), Sydney (younger sister), and Bay (Sydney's young daughter)—have magical powers, each one a particular gift unique to herself. Claire can probably be considered the main character of this installment, though most characters figure prominently in the story. Beyond the Waverleys, strong players include Claire's neighbor, Tyler; gay shopkeeper, Fred; Sydney's childhood friend, Henry, who is now a dairy farmer with his grandfather; Sydney's childhood frenemy, Emma, who ended up marrying Sydney's high school sweetheart; and more.

I have no record of my original rating or impressions of the book, as 2007 predates any of my lasting bookish apps/sites. I thoroughly enjoyed this reading—some magical realism, a bit of mystery, interconnected characters with and without history—it was purely entertaining (though not all happy—content warnings include child abandonment and spousal abuse). Maybe Aunt Evanelle is to thank for bringing me this book again at this time.

5-star reads

• The Sum of Us, Heather McGhee (reread; 5-)
• The Colors We Share, Angélica Dass

honorable mention (3+ or 4-)

• Rabbits, Terry Miles (4-)
• The Wee Free Men, Terry Pratchett (3+)
• The Ugly Cry: A Memoir, Danielle Henderson (3+)
• Wings of Ebony, J. Elle (3+)
• The Advocate, Teresa Burrell (3+/4-)

The book was first published in 1968. It's among favorite books of Neil Gaiman's to which he is trying to bring new/more attention by hand-choosing narrators and producing audiobook editions. I'm a fan of Gaiman's (even though I don't love everything he writes—I adore so much of it), and there have been many comparisons made between this book and Douglas Adam's The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy series (written later than DoM), which I have read and enjoyed multiple times. It seemed like a no-brainer that I would love Dimension of Miracles. Not so much. While there were a few funny or thoughtful bits, I just didn't find it either engaging or silly enough for my tastes. Maybe I prefer British silliness to American silliness. The book is quite short, so I didn't have to make a huge investment of time.

I found much of the language awkward or stilted, and didn't find the Bob relationship particularly plausible. Hopefully, both become better as the series progresses.

I liked several of the relationships formed during the course of the story. The tension and action were paced well. There were lots of moving pieces that came together interestingly, if not completely plausibly.

I went in without expectations, and was pretty well-entertained. I would consider reading another installment.

The premise of the book is that a young (late–20s) failed writer buys an old bus, hires a driver, and places an ad to solicit others who want to commit suicide to join his cross-country journey to drive off a beautiful California cliff at sunset. The only cost to participate (beyond personal food and incidentals) is journaling along the way—by voice recording, text messages, and emails—uploaded to a private server. A motley crew of participants join. We get to know them individually and collectively.

The book starts with some commentary on the state of the union (USA)—notably how poorly the country serves its people in terms of education, jobs, wealth, health, and so on. Certainly, the health care issue pops up throughout.

I marked four passages: two serious and two humorous. Despite the occasional inclusion of humor and tenderness, the bulk of the book is decidedly dark and painful. I can't say that I would actually recommend it to anyone.

Angélica Dass is a Brazilian artist of African, European, and Native American descent who lives in Spain. She was happy growing up in a family full of colors. Outside her home, however, things were different. Her skin color had many other meanings: "I remember my first art classes were exciting, but I never understood that one 'flesh'-colored pencil," she says. "I was made of flesh, but I'm not pink. My skin is brown, yet people said I was black. I had a mess of colors in my head." Inspired by her family tree, she created the Humanae project to question the concept of race and show that skin color is much more complex than the categories we use. The project now includes over 4,500 portraits of volunteers from all over the world and is still ongoing, inviting us all to reflect on how we see each other and ourselves. [ABOUT THE AUTHOR]

I first learned of the Humanae project via the Smithsonian's The Bias Inside Us exhibit, which was at the Schaumburg Library earlier in the summer, and an online version of which is available here. Subsequently, I attended a Let's Talk program about the exhibit through my League of Women Voters chapter. The now-infamous Cammy brought her own copy of Dass' book to the program. I quickly placed a hold on the book through PPLD; received a copy via one of our consortium member libraries; and have ordered my own copy to enjoy for years to come. Libraries rock!

You've probably gathered that I thoroughly enjoyed the exhibit, the project, and the book. The book is geared to children ages 5–8, according to the publisher. The ratio of texts to photographs in the book is appropriate for the target age range, as is the content. I think people of all ages could enjoy the book.

One of my favorite spreads has a three-by-three grid of photographs, with each row including three people of different "races" who share the same skin color. The text on the facing page says,

Every person is unique, even if they share the same skin color.

To know a person's story, you need to get to know them.

This is my 100th book read in 2021 and completes my fifth summer reading log. [Insert celebration dance here.]

Ultimately, the story is about racism, bigotry, and power (personal, stolen, abused). Will the fantasy vehicle help the message be received by those who need to hear it?

I marked 10 passages, of which I'll share just one, as a taste.

Around truth, some people act like roaches when the lights come on—they scatter, trying to not hear it. [Chapter 29, 72%]

Wings of Ebony, the first of a series, is a YA urban fantasy. I was occasionally mildly annoyed by it (that's OK—I'm not the target audience), but it was a decent read, overall. If subsequent installments come onto my radar at a convenient time, I might consider reading them; though I doubt I'll seek them out.

This is my first Downing book. I might try one or two of her previous books if I'm really at a loss for what to read next/something to borrow. My reaction to even making that statement tells me that it's unlikely to happen. I prefer that authors in these genres at least try to stump me (in mysteries) and to create tension slowly and rising throughout (in thrillers).

I was so touched by The Sum of Us when I read it in early April that I reached out to my friend Cammy—Co-Director of Programs for our League of Women Voters chapter—to see if the book was on her radar for discussion. It was, but she hadn't read it yet. She asked me if I'd be willing to moderate discussion for the group. Yes, I certainly would! So, this week, I reread and moderated two discussions. [Rounding out the Programs team is Gayle. The team does a spectacular job keeping us enlightened and productively entertained.]

During my rereading, I couldn't stop noticing and thinking about pretty much everything McGhee wrote showing up in our daily lives. Being able to talk about the book/share thoughts in the two groups was interesting. We come from a range of ages, backgrounds, and philosophies, so we had the opportunity to look at things from different perspectives.

One of the examples McGhee uses to illustrate how racism has caused people to destroy a public good is public pools. When I asked the discussion group members what other public goods we're missing out on because of racism, they came up with so many responses, including health care, child care, education, infrastructure, environment, and banking.

Undoubtedly, I think everyone should read this book. And, if you want to talk about it, you know where to find me.

Henderson was raised largely by her maternal grandparents (with the greatest influence being her grandmother) because of her mother's neglect and other poor choices, including her relationship with a drug-addicted, abusive boyfriend. At one point, Danielle recalls her younger self thinking,

We could have gotten away from him forever and she brought him back. [Chapter 10, 42%]

Danielle describes her upbringing frankly, with all its fear, frustration, sadness, stigma (for being poor, especially, but also for being Black, for not knowing her father, and for living with her grandparents), and violence (her mother's boyfriend hit not only her mother, but also Danielle, her brother, and the boyfriend's son from another relationship; and he sexually abused Danielle, which she kept secret from everyone for a very long time).

Henderson also uses a lot of humor, often by describing her grandmother's eye-rolling, sassy attitude, and foul mouth. Sometimes the humor comes from her own experiences (that is, separate from her relationship with her grandmother), as in the description of her thought process when forced to participate in confession as a seven-year-old parochial school student (though she didn't attend church). At some point, she has a realization.

It slowly dawned on me: if I could lie and be quickly forgiven, there was nothing to stop me from actually doing some of the stuff I was making up. Catholicism flipped a switch and turned me on to a life of crime. [Chapter 5, 24%]

This is not a light read, but it was a quick read.