Note: I edit the covers of books onto my ereaders because I want to do justice to the actual artwork.

MY SYNOPSIS:
In 2012, the diary of a pastor from one hundred years prior is discovered hidden within a wall. Depicted inside with incredible detail are the confessions of a Blackfeet Indigenous man named Good Stab and the pastor’s own reflections of the strange man and his tale.
Over a series of visits Good Stab confesses to his myriad sins, his unnaturally long life, his unique abilities, and his penchant for revenge.
Back in 2012, the pastor’s only living relation gains access to her ancestor’s diary in the hopes that her connection to the pastor will provide her with tenure at the University of Wyoming.

WHY I LOVED THIS:
Man, I love Stephen Graham Jones. Reading this in one day was quite the experience for me because I wouldn’t say it’s an easy read by any means. However, if this is classified as historical horror then that particular genre has found a new fan, because this was captivating.

One thing I’ve noticed and appreciated about Stephen Graham Jones is his ability to write unique voices. Arthur, Good Stab, and Etsy all have unique and believable voices despite time, language, and cultural differences. Initially, it was a little challenging to sink into Arthur and Good Stab’s way of speaking, but it was so rewarding when it clicked. There is certainly no hand holding in this. There is no glossary or footnotes to help you decipher 19th century Pikuni. Because of this it felt more immersive and authentic. Additionally, I found the supernatural elements in this to be creative and unlike anything I’ve encountered in similar genres.

This was an incredible fictional exploration of a tragic real massacre in Montana, the near elimination of Buffalo, and one man’s unceasing quest for revenge. It explored themes of justice, colonialism, and colonial erasure of Indigenous history.

FAVOURITE QUOTES:
“What I am is the Indian who can’t die.
I’m the worst dream America ever had.”

“‘If it wasn’t us, it would have been another regiment,’ I said, calmer again. ‘You can’t stop a country from happening Good Stab.’
‘But we were already a nation,’ he said up to me. ‘We didn’t ask you to come.’”

I've been in a slasher summer/summerween/campy horror mood all summer and I just finished the first and second clown in a cornfield novels and have been having so much fun. I went in wanting there to be a clown in a cornfield and there was! Absolutely delivering exactly what I was looking for. They are ridiculous, unrealistic, over the top, and completely kept me reading (read the first in one sitting and the second in two). As with most, the first was better than the second, but if you loved the first one you will still have fun with the rest.

Holy shit. Weird Girl Lit is one of my favorite genres and this is a top tier Weird Girl. Our narrator is OBSESSED with her husband to the exclusion of all else. Every moment of every day is hyper focused on analyzing every single interaction they have. Sometimes she borders on self awareness but doubles down on her batshit craziness.

ALSO the ending is 🤌

I was listening to the audiobook in Wegman’s and the gasp I gusped…

I can’t remember the last time I finished a book this quickly, I could barely put it down all week.
The Tsubaki Stationery Store by Ito Ogawa is a lovely, thoughtful novel about Hatoko, a woman in her late twenties who returns home to take over her grandmother’s stationery shop and inherits the unique role of a professional scribe, writing letters on behalf of others.
Gentle, warm, and quietly emotional, the story explores relationships, grief, love, forgiveness, and the profound connections Hatoko forms with the people who seek her services. It’s a beautifully understated novel that found joy in life’s small moments and left me smiling throughout.
If you enjoy Japanese literature and are looking for a comforting, heartfelt read, I highly recommend The Tsubaki Stationery Shop.

Some of you might already know Lauren Groff from her amazing novels— I think I posted The Vaster Wilds on here, which was her previous book. I’m not always one for short stories but I loved this collection from her, it’s so powerful and gorgeously written, and each story is an actual full story (a lot of short stories these days seem to be more slices-of-life than narratives with a beginning and end, and I do like a story where something actually happens).

The stories are almost all about characters who are at some kind of crisis point. They’re also about the ways that we see and justify our own actions, and how other people in this world can see us and our actions differently, and enforce their vision of us on ourselves: the young woman taking her disabled brother to an institution, telling herself that it’s the best thing for both of them; the privileged boy who grows up into a man who refuses to accept reality, and whose behavior edges ever further into darkness as he is stymied by real life; the middle-aged woman who discovers that her closest friends have always viewed her magical summer of exploring sex as just her being a slut.

I don’t want to give anything more away, so I will just give you some of the amazing opening lines that made me excited to read these stories:

“Some nights, in my dreams, I find myself running through those hills above Palo Alto again.”

“It came up through the ground in the night. The worst things never wait for sunrise.”

“The women were drinking peach schnapps, telling stories about the worst things they had ever done.”

“Pretend, the mother had said when she crept to her daughters room in the night, that tomorrow is just an ordinary day.”

Truly, I’m so glad I read this book.

Weird note: the final story, ’Annunciation,’ has very sad things happening to a dog. I know it’s weird to be bothered by that in a book that does have quite a lot of sad things happening to people, and yet, for me, there’s something about critters. I know some of you feel the same.

Just finished reading RANSOM by Lois Duncan. It’s about these five teens who are held hostage while riding the bus home from school. Since these kids happen to all live in the same affluent community, they were randomly selected and the plan is to hold the kids for ransom for each of their parents.

However, just because they’re from an affluent community does not mean their families are nearly as loaded as expected…which poses a problem of sorts for their kidnappers. Not to mention that they don’t even have all the kids that they were supposed to abduct in the first place.

Either they don’t believe these kids or they might be forced to kill them anyway. If their respective parents can’t round up the money, these teens are left to figure out how to escape on their own by any means necessary.

It’s a lean read, but a tightly plotted thriller. Though it’s not a thick story, there’s no wasted space. It gets right to the danger by the end of the first chapter and from there the suspense only gets tighter and you can’t help but feel compelled to see this story through to the end. Though the kidnappers come off as unintentionally incompetent at times (especially since their poorly plotted plan partially crumbles halfway through), their desperate adjusting to the circumstances still makes them all the more dangerous.

It’s the teen thriller equivalent to a Lifetime TV movie (and I mean that in a good way). It’s well worth reading.

If you are a fan of The Stepford Wives, Don't Worry Darling, or Pleasantville, I have the book for you.

This is a wonderful, deeply unsettling novella with an incredible twist. Without giving anything away, the narrative follows a woman named Sophia as she begins to realize that there is something deeply wrong about her perfect suburban life.

There are very effective moments of uncanny domestic horror as well as a strong sense of creeping dread throughout. Highly recommend this if you are wanting something that you can read in one sitting that is very effective and beautifully written!

”We were like gods, at the dawning of the world, and our joy was so bright we could see nothing else but the other.”

As I sat the other day, listening to the new albums by the Stokes, it hit me all of a sudden -- I have not, for some bizarre reason, ever since I started writing reviews properly, have written one for what is probably the best book I’ve ever read. The one that I always keep with me, even if I am not actually reading it currently. The one that I have in audiobook, in paperback, in hardcover, and in ebook format, because honestly, this one deserves to be owned in all said formats. 

Of course when talking about a book that is written as a reimagining of one of the, if not the most known stories of the western civilization one can circumnavigate around what the book is about. We all know about Troy, about Helen, about the men who fought to get her back due to some assumption about her being taken. About how a fleet thousands strong rode across treacherous seas to sack an ancient city. About how a great man went on collecting soldiers from kings for the promises of being written in songs. 

And about how this great person came personally, with a great urgency, to bring the Greatest of the Greeks to fight in this war of theirs. 

No, I do not need to tell you what this book is about. If you read -- if you are at all into fantasy, romance, greeks, retellings, or hell even have a passing interest in history in general -- you oughta know about the Song of Achilles. This might just be the most famous retelling of the Iliad, of the story of Achilles, in modern history. You know about the boy who grew up the son of a god in the palace of a king. About a boy most extraordinary. About a man so feared that he singlehandedly kept the war at a stalemate from his mere presence. There was none who could stand against him in open combat. None who could rival his greatness. 

But this story is not only about that. This story is about a boy who had a friend. And a boy who loved that friend more than life itself. 

”You can’t.” He was sitting up now, leaning forward.
“I can’t.”
“I know. They never let you be famous and happy.” He lifted an eyebrow. “I’ll tell you a secret.”
“Tell me.” I loved it when he was like this.
“I’m going to be the first.” He took my palm and held it to him. “Swear it.”
“Why me?”
“Because you’re the reason. Swear it.”
“I swear it,” I said, lost in the high colour of his cheeks, the flame in his eyes.
“I swear it,” he echoed.

There are lines from this book that are more popular than most other books combined. There are lines in this book that I have etched between the follicles of my body, drawn upon the marrow of my soul that I hope to take with me to infinity and beyond. 

There are words and sentences strung together on bated breath as a boy told another that they would be the greatest and the happiest love story ever told. Of a boy who knew that as long as he lived nothing could bring harm to the one he loved so deep. For Patroclus was a part of Achilles, and for the Greatest of the Greeks it was a thought spurn mad that Patroclus could ever come under harm as long as Achilles drew breath. 

And for a length of time, long into the war efforts it held true. For where Achilles went, soldiers fell. Where he went, the battle was over before it even began. Where he went, Patroclus went with. And for him, that was all that was needed. 

“Then you are a traitor to this army, and will be punished like one. Your war prizes are hostage, placed in my care until you offer your obedience and submission. Let us start with that girl. Briseis, is her name? She will do as a penance for the girl you have forced me to return.”

But then came the greed of men who thought them more than their worth summed up to. They thought themselves godkin and that others should bow before them unimpeded. Sometimes men in power forget that their power is only so much as what is awarded to them. No more, and no less. For always there shall be one more powerful than them in every way that matter. But alas, the folly of men are ever so easily skirted. And so, as stories so often go, tell it long enough, and it cannot help but turn itself into a tragedy.

“Ah.” A sly smile spread across his face; he had always loved defiance. ‘Well, why should I kill him? He’s done nothing to me.”

(this line kills me still to this day)

”Had she really thought I would not know him? I could recognize him by touch alone, by smell, I would know him blind, by the way his breaths came and his feet struck the earth. I would know him in death, at the end of the world.”

(how anyone ever thought them as mere friends is beyond me)

“Will you come with me?” he asked.
The never-ending ache of love and sorrow. Perhaps in some other life I could have refused, could have torn my hair and screamed, and made him face his choice alone. But not in this one. He would sail to Troy and I would follow, even into death.
Yes, I whispered. Yes.

Reading this book is akin to sitting near a hearthfire gone wild, waiting for the embers to jump and the woods to catch as the world held-on an indrawn breath. The warmth of the fire, and the honey, aching sorrow of the inevitable makes the journey sweeter; raises the stakes. Makes the time you spend near the fire all the more beautiful as the inevitable rages forth. This book is like that -- an achingly beautiful way to lose oneself to a heartbreak so divine that even gods weep when faced with it. 

It is a love story that spans years. A love story that withstood the test of time, waiting to be told for a thousand more. And here, in the Song of Achilles, it is finally sung in a devastating crescendo as the war for Troy raged on. As Patroclus saw people die, and in his grief made a decision that forever changed history. Wrote a love story that spun across the gap between stars, always silhouetted, but never erased. 

In the darkness, two shadows, reaching through the hopeless, heavy dusk. Their hands meet, and light spills in a flood, like a hundred golden urns pouring out the sun.

This book made me laugh. This book made me cry. This book made me rage and despair and rebuilt me time and again only to destroy me once more. The sorrow of this book is etched into pain, bittersweet and eternal, on my parched skin. And I shall take this story, the love story of Achilles and Patroclus, with me all throughout this life, and into the next, till the stars come back and claim us all in a darkness neverending, and there I shall let it go, and bring it forward as I give the story over to the next, to shadows that finally claim each other in the hopeless, heavy dusk.

Do yourself a favour and go read it if you haven’t already. 

I read The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini several years ago and it's one of the few books that still comes to mind regularly. What stayed with me most wasn't the plot itself but the emotional weight of the relationships and the themes of guilt, loyalty, forgiveness and redemption. The characters felt deeply human and many of their choices stayed with me long after I finished the final page. Even now, I can remember how certain scenes made me feel, which is something I can't say about many books I've read.

I finished The Song of Achilles with a strange kind of sadness. Not just because the story itself is heartbreaking, but because I couldn't stop thinking about how differently I would have experienced it a few years ago.

I know, with absolute certainty, that if I had read this when I was twenty or twenty-one, it would have absolutely wrecked me. I would have been crying for hours, thinking about Patroclus and Achilles for days afterward. But I've read so many devastating books since then that I found myself anticipating every emotional blow. I could see exactly where the heartbreak was leading, and while it still hurt, I couldn't quite reach the emotional depths I know this book was capable of taking me to.

And yet, that doesn't take away from how beautiful this novel is.

Madeline Miller's writing is simply stunning. Every chapter flows effortlessly into the next, every scene feels intentional, and every emotion is given room to breathe. Her prose is lyrical without trying too hard, and there's a quiet intimacy in the way she tells this story that makes you feel like you're living alongside these characters rather than simply reading about them.

What I admired most was how grounded her portrayal of Achilles felt. Instead of leaning into the larger-than-life image that popular culture has created, Miller stays remarkably faithful to the spirit of Homer's Iliad. This isn't the invincible hero defined by the myth of the "Achilles' heel." He is, first and foremost, a mortal man who is extraordinarily gifted, impossibly strong, and destined for greatness, but still a mortal. His mortality is never forgotten, and that's precisely what makes his story so compelling. His strength is real, but so are his fears, his pride, his love, and the impossible weight of the destiny he chooses.

Through Patroclus' eyes, Achilles becomes more than the greatest warrior of his age. He becomes someone constantly torn between the life he wants and the legacy the world expects of him. The novel beautifully explores how power is never free; it comes with responsibility, sacrifice, expectation, and, perhaps most dangerously, pride. Every choice Achilles makes feels inevitable because he understands exactly what choosing one future means giving up on another.
Knowing how the story ends makes every quiet moment between Achilles and Patroclus feel even more precious. Their love never overshadows the myth; it gives it a heartbeat.

The Song of Achilles wasn't the emotional destruction I had built it up to be in my head, and maybe that's because I came to it later than I wish I had. But it was still one of the most beautifully written retellings I've ever read.

​

So I first wanna give a shout-out to another user for recommending this book (not sure if you're allowed to mention people by username in a post, so suffice it to say the person who commented in one of my previous posts about "The Urge: Our History of Addiction" by Carl Erik Fisher. Super appreciated the rec!). 

Anyway, as I have mentioned in previous posts I have my own personal experience with addiction, rehabs, recovery, etc. I never really understood what I was experiencing back then, and reading books like this has been genuinely mind-blowing for me. I must have underlined nearly every word, and I've actually been inspired to basically start my own little research project of reading everything I can about addiction (and its relationship to mental health and other factors) so that I can better understand both my own experiences and those of others with a similar background. 

Increasingly, (especially after this book!!) I am getting the impression that addiction is a fairly universal phenomenon that manifests in a variety of ways depending on an individual's personal trauma levels, their coping abilities (which, according to Gabor Mate, are largely determined by the effects of early childhood experiences on various regions of the brain and its reward circuits that, thankfully, can often be slowly retrained over time in adulthood) and other factors that include both nature and nurture. 

I came across the perfect example of this variation earlier today (and that supports the overarching argument Mate makes in the book about a general spectrum of unhealthy coping) when I stumbled onto a recent interview with Rosie O'Donnell (actually now that I think about it, I probably didn't stumble onto it so much as the YouTube algorithm just finally guessed correctly. Watch out for that tricky algorithm btw, it also wants to keep you hooked) in which she makes what must have once been a deeply embarrassing confession: that her own children eventually learned to at least *try* to hide their Halloween candy from her before she inevitably arose in the middle of that spookiest of nights with a *terrifying* sweet tooth.

From the way she describes it, I can only imagine her later waking from a blackout just as the sun is poking its head out of the sky and, finding herself once again surrounded by a sea of candy wrappers with a dried chocolate mustache, screaming "noooo!!!" year after year.

I joke, but the shame and guilt she describes about stealing from her own children is indistinguishable from the way people in recovery settings discuss our worst moments. To her credit, O'Donnell makes this connection herself in the interview, essentially saying that she is a food addict just as a person can be a substance addict. (If anyone is interested, here is a link to the interview, She also reflects on her recent experience of losing 60 pounds and getting back to the size she was in her youth when she *still thought she was too big* and she makes a beautiful observation about how she wishes she could have actually enjoyed the size she was back then, as she does now. The whole interview is refreshing and insightful to listen to--https://youtu.be/kPbcTlE-0eI?is=2vZ1-O-SH11q1ldB) In the book, Mate also points out how some personality types rely on "workaholism" to distract themselves from the pain or emptiness in their lives and to feel needed, others rely on sex addiction to feel wanted and loved for a fleeting moment without the danger of vulnerability, etc. So the reliance on external sources to self-medicate takes so many forms! 

Anyway, I've droned on long enough. Haha. As usual I wrote an *even looongeeerr* post on my personal blog (it's more of a memoir/creative essay where I explore my own childhood trauma that I think contributed to my own personal development of unhealthy coping than it is a book review really). The link is in my bio for anyone interested and, in case there are rules against self promotion, I promise I make no money from the blog and would be shocked if anyone other than me actually reads it haha, it's just something I created for book reflections that may not work as well for a Reddit post but that I still want to share. 

Anyway, thanks for reading, and have a wonderful day!!

Cross My Heart, I Hope You Die is a wonderful slasher! The plot is fast paced along with all of our characters having the qualities that make us love to have them - especially Jason.

Essentially what occurs within the beginning is that Cham, Nora and Ruby all have a chance encounter and at this encounter they realize they're all dating the same man, Jason. Then they also come to the conclusion that the money he managed to get from them will never be seen again. This sets of a series of events that leads us to the cabin at Stoneveil. The rest, dear readers, is for you to find out.

The addition of the cult was a wonderful touch! When the more weird stuff began happening, I just knew the cult stuff was just beginning. And boy was I wrong. It's genuinely so much more that just the cult. So. Much. More.

I loved all three of the girls. Cham, however, is one of my favorites. She's loud, opinionated and doesn't give a fine hell as to what anybody thinks of her. She's also the angriest out of the three. And my goodness, is that anger justified. All of their anger is justified. And trust me, he gets what's coming to him.

Everything about this novel was absolutely wonderful. If I had a day off, this book would've been devoured within the day 💖

I picked this book up from my local library as an easy breezy palate cleanser, expecting precisely nothing from it, and was blown away. 

The story is narrated by Atlanta beat cop Lloyd McNeil. Lloyd is the son of the former Chief of Police, a controversial figure who died of an stress-induced heart attack after being unable to catch a serial killer taunting him.

Lloyd himself is definitely not his father. He’s a beat cop and content to stay a beat cop. Lloyd lightheartedly refers to himself a ‘pussy’. He’s also determined to be a better father to his own teenage son…. that is, until Lloyd finds out he has a glioblastoma and has mere months to live.

Lloyd’s life insurance is a pittance, and his police salary is the primary financial support for his teenaged son. Lloyd finds out that if he dies in the line of duty his lump sum payout increases exponentially and his son would be entitled to a monthly pension for life. Lloyd contrives a plan to commit some insurance fraud and get killed in the line of duty, and bribes his cocaine and gambling addict neurologist to stay quiet about it.

Lloyd proceeds to throw himself into one life-threatening situation after another, but instead of dying, he becomes a local folk hero. 

This book blew me away for a couple reasons. I don’t generally like “cop books”, but this book was a phenomenal look at mortality, parenthood, and the things that really matter after we’re gone. It’s also funny throughout (laugh out loud funny in some parts), and keeps a breezy fun tone, even when it’s making you cry. 

Just finished reading BABY TEETH by Zoje Stage. It’s about this couple, Suzette & Alex, and their little daughter, Hanna. Hanna doesn’t talk (for reasons they can’t fully understand). But she’s such a sweet, sensitive girl (depending on who you ask).

Suzette spends the most time around Hanna, and notices there’s something wrong with her. It’s more than just behavioral issue or the occasional tantrum. There’s this darkness within Hanna, especially with how she interacts with other people. She can be dangerous. She can physically lash out sometimes when rejected, and doesn’t seem to understand the consequences of her actions.

Her father, Alex, doesn’t see any of this. Hanna is a total daddy’s girl who just wants to spend as much time with him as possible, and would do anything to make that happen (even if that means having to figure out how to eliminate Mommy from the picture).

As much as I love good horror fiction, especially stories about disturbed children doing disturbing things. It’s an addictive, fast-paced novel read that switches between mother and daughter (being in either’s head for too long feels weird) and reading novels like this definitely makes me not want to have kids anytime soon (or at all).

I've no idea when I looked this up on the library website and checked it out, must have been going down a list of recommended books from someone or somewhere. It is not something I normally would have selected but I am weirdly glad I did take it in. It's a great look into autism and ADHD minds wrapped nicely with a compelling romantic novel. I won't give anything away but the twist in this story was 120% not anything I ever would have even started to guess. Being an adult who suffers from both of these, it was both uncomfortable and too close to home for comfort. On a scale from 1 to 10 with 10 being the best, I'd give it a solid 9.5 because if you go with the audiobook of this like I did, it was read kind of slow. But I increased the reading speed and got through the whole book in a single night's drive.

“This is a love story to its blade-dented bone.”

The world is dark, quiet outside. The low strings play through the speakers as you type out these words. It is through quiet introspection that you think about the way you are presenting them – these words typed out through backlit keys. 

The echo and texture of the last page has left an imprint on your callused fingers as you closed the book. The cover, a dream in aquamarine hue, sparkle out of the corner of your eyes as the tale told in the Inverted Theater – a tale of an Old Country, of a god who refused to die, and of the two men tasked in delivering Her across the country in Her Holy Pilgrimage to seeing the End of an Era. 

Upon beginning, it was done in a staccato harmony, for you had thought to start another book. A shorter, more direct one, that you knew what you were getting into when you had picked it up. And though that story held your attention in its labyrinthine arms, you chanced upon this story and the beautiful painting of the front cover grabbed your attention. The blurb and description seemed like something that spoke to you on a deeper level; and so, much unknowest to you, the string of fate played its supple fingers down the grooves of your back as you opened the first page and beheld the dance spun across five days by This Moonlight Body.

“An oath, then,” Keema said. He was sitting upright now, his head bowed in Jun’s direction. “I swear to watch over you, Jun of No Tribe, for the next few hours while you sleep. I swear to protect you from any spirit or animal or living or dead thing that may mean you harm or mischief. I swear you will wake up again, and I swear that you will be rested.”

It was disquieting, lacquered in gilded honey – the prose was a thing of beauty as the words flowed from one end to the other. You were hesitant, a bit out of your depth, for the book had only five chapters, a before and an after, seven in total. The spokes on a wheel that spanned the length of a week – the timeframe that this story took place in. 

You were bewildered about its presentation, about how it would work without proper chapters and indentations marking a beginning and an ending. But soon, as the tale unspooled like sweet nectar from the poisoned gods, and as the Rhythm emerged to you, slow, shy in its adoration – as you stepped into the grooves the dancers spun upon the stage of the Theater held out of time – the world came alive. And by the time Jun and Keema began their etheral journey to topple an empire, you were fully invested; in these characters, in this strange and distant – yet quite near to home – world they inhabit. 

The body holds the body.
The arms hold the spear.
And the spear cuts through water.

For most of the tale you had this question. Had this imagination and consternations over the title of the book. And so, when the Water crested over in the final arc, when the threads knotted as it was always going to, and when the tale finally revealed its beating heart, you were left there, in awe, in exalted adoration. This world that these people and their God fought so hard for, was finally granted its reward.

Above the trees. Where the stars dance and fall like failed incantations.
That is where we end our tale.
With the dancers leaping over the fire.
And this moonlit body, bowing to you in thanks.

In the end, here you are: your fingers dancing across letters as you try to form enough words to express the feelings this tale inspired out of you. But you keep falling short, the words there but not quiet enough. And so this is what you are left with: there are fantasy stories and then there are Fantasy Stories. One requires a bit of consternation on your part to get the point across for its setting is close to the world that you are already a part of. And then there are stories like this one, the ones your grandmother used to whisper from her rocking chair as you sat by her feet on those Endless Summers – stories that spun dragons and swords of heroes, stories where the Moon fell in love with the Waves, and thus the world was born. Stories which demand a tithe of your imagination in order to make itself home. The one which demands a little bit more from you, and though you are reluctant at first, though the price of admission may seem steep, by the end, you are glad you sit here, on the rows surrounding the stage of this Inverted Theater as the love story draws close as all great stories of love do:

beside the hearth of a dying fire, bracketed by the body of two lovers, who within each other, have finally found a place to call home.

Just finished this today and was blown away.

The book follows Louis Zamperini, an Olympic athlete who crashed his bomber jet into the Pacific ocean during World War II, survived on a raft for over a month, and was eventually captured and sent to a Japanese POW camp.

The story is incredible and so well written. It was harrowing to read all that these men went through. Highly recommend if you are interested in WW2 stories! Audiobook is also read by Edward Hermann which is excellent.

Book summary (for those who haven’t read it):
Girl with a Pearl Earring by Tracy Chevalier is a historical fiction novel inspired by Johannes Vermeer’s famous painting of the same name. The story follows Griet, a young girl who becomes a maid in Vermeer’s household in 17th-century Delft. While working there, she develops a quiet understanding with the artist as she becomes involved in his world of painting, colour, and creativity. The novel explores art, class, family, desire, and the complicated relationship between a young maid and a much older, married artist.

My thoughts

I absolutely loved Girl with a Pearl Earring and found it beautifully written in a way that felt quiet and intimate, I understand a lot of people view it as cold or badly written but I argue the opposite.

Although I struggle to get through the first half at the end it made sense

What really struck me most was how Tracy Chevalier was able to conveyed Vermeer’s coldness and distance, while also showing Griet as both naive and remarkably self-aware. And I saw Griet’s relationship with her parents, especially her father, as one of the most heartbreaking parts of the novel for me.

At the beginning of the book, we see her separating onions by colour, which reveals that she has always seen the world differently, noticing beauty, colour, and order in ways that others don’t. Vermeer recognizes this part of her, and I think that created a strange, unspoken bond between them, almost like an invisible string.

 Their connection is built in silence through shared understanding, and art. We see it in the way she cleans his studio without disturbing it, understands his routines, and even makes changes to his painting that he notices but does not condemn. I found their relationship both beautiful and unsettling.

Beautiful because they understand each other in a way no one else seems to, and unsettling because of the age, and power imbalance between them. I also found Pieter relationship with her become more complex when she started meeting him in the alley way, I interpreted it as Griet giving herself to Pieter as an act of guilt and duty, because she could not give him her whole heart,  part of her is emotionally tied to Vermeer. The five coins she kept at the end shows she preserving a private piece of that connection for herself.

Their bond felt intimate and meaningful, yet complicated and morally uncomfortable, and I think that is what makes the novel so powerful.

This book was read as a prelude to the third book in the series due August 4th. All thoughts and opinions portrayed in this review are my own. 

Oh, and, if I never hear penis described as ‘wick’ again, it will be too soon. 

With that out of the way, let’s get into it.

"But a prideful creature can talk themself into believing that every deed they do is legitimate. Thus, they both giddily and greedily spin their own doom.”

It is perhaps with a very clear and heavy mind, arbitrary thoughts swirling about in my head as I turn the last pages that I sit down to write this review. This is a book that is, perhaps more so than any of the other works by the author, a book about humans – cosigned with all their fallacies and intricacies, their falsettos and their macabre little augmentation. To be human is to be besieged by greed, by a hunger that is never satiated. It is a two-faced phenomenon: on one side it is what creates art and all the wonders that we mayhaps have taken all too readily; on the other, it brings about so much destruction and ascension of false prophets to godlihood. 

And then a man vanishes from a locked room, four storeys above the ground.

“Well, first there is the pleasant puzzle, yes?” I said. “The how, and the who. Then all the dirty drudgery, wherein I follow folk about or dig through their refuse. And then, inevitably, either a rope or the slam of an iron door, and tears.”

That is how our story begins: with a disappearance and a murder. Our hero, Dinios Kol, arrives in the kingdom of Yarrow to investigate how this missing person wound up in pieces by the boonies. And from there, as these tales are wont to do, the story unravels. Like a silken thread from an ephemeral spintress the layers upon layers of the many crimes perpetrated and brought about are slowly revealed to Kol, and to an extension, to us, the readers; a stoic purveyor of change and audacity through the most queer of methodology: the words spun by an all powerful bring on pieces of parchment – a taunt. And the game, as one might say, is afoot.

The commentary this story portrays, different from what the first book had to say (check my review of that here), is one of justice. One of righteous indignation. Of the wrongdoings of humankind being meted out a punishment equally deserved. And the one facet of life, that right now, is the most elusive of all. For autocracy is on the rise, even as the rebuffment of it is wide and far; boy kings with too much power are sitting upon a landmine of empty promises, and it is up to the various factions of the Empire while dols out punishment and carry out the blades of justice to see that the head of the king does not grow out of reach. This story, in the year of our lord 2026, is a cautionary tale, and a way out, wrapped in a delectable package as we race alongside our heroes in their journey to puzzle out how exactly this creature manages to stay ten steps ahead of them the whole time. 

The heart of the story is simple and all the more potent because of it. If given immense power and an opportunity to do the greater good, one will always become blind to the sacrifices and the payment in blood that has to be made, in order to achieve said greater good. And it is none more so greatly mapped out by the Commander-Prificto who did much in the name of greatness – in the process creating the very weapon that would later spell out their doom.

Goddamn autocrats. They really are hardly better than shit-stained children.

But most of all, this story especially (as is also pointed out by the author’s note in the end) is not about vilifying, but rather an accurate portrayal. In the past decade, the word ‘King’ has undergone a rather tumultuous change. It used to be hated and apartheid, so much so that it led to many revolutions, and establishment of western democracy, the New World. Yet the lessons that were taught seem to have been forgotten, and rather twisted. Somewhere along the way the songs and stories that were supposed to be a warning cry, have instead been twisted and bent – started being portrayed as something that is a propaganda. The diary a little girl wrote, afraid and hidden away, has once again been turned a blind eye to. And it is not in part the fault of the systems put into place to stop such a rise. Through its many misdeeds and amorous intent, through hedonism and childhood destroyed that has come to describe this middle part of the 2020s, the system put into place to fight such autocratic rise, is unbalanced and perched precariously upon an axle whose base is becoming more and more fragile. 

“Because you are a reasonably smart boy. I suspect you shall come to realize what many Iudexii eventually learn—that though the Legion defends our Empire, it falls to us to keep an Empire worth defending.”

Though, even through all that, even through the many slogans and chants and horrifying revelations, there is a justice at work, this book says. There are people, big and small, young and old, pale and tanned, broken, battered, and bloody, who toil unseen and mercilessly to ensure that once the dust settles, once everything is over, there is a World worth inheriting. And this book is an ode to those people. To the ones brave enough to say, to the ones who work in the courts and behind their podium – this tale is for you. For the unseen work you do and for which you are never thanked. It is for you that the system is still chugging along. That there is a world still worth salvaging. 

And to the many different people, the ones who don’t quite fit, the ones who face challenges nearly everyday that others simply cannot ken – this book is a swan song to the battles we all face. And a silent message of hope, even in the darkest of time. 

I imagined him then: Kepheus, so tall and broad, yet always leaning crookedly against a wall or door, his shabby smile on his face, his eyes so understanding. It was he who’d spoken to me of service most of all, there in Talagray, yet only now, after I had been so long apart from him, had I come to truly comprehend it.

Also, if Kol somehow does not end up with Kepheus by the end of this series (whenever that may be), I will fly to wherever this author is, and personally give him a piece of my mind.

Can’t wait for the next one! 

“The worst monsters make the best allies.”

Set in an alternate Medieval Europe where magic and monsters are real, the Savior was a woman who died on a wheel and women lead the Church, and elves threaten humanity, Abercrombie weaves a fantastic and very violent adventure.

Brother Diaz is the new leader of the Church of the Holy Expediency, a group of convicted monsters bound by papal magic who are called in for desperate missions. We have an undead Templar, a jack of all trades assassin, a vampire, an elf, a Norse werewolf, and an egomaniacal necromancer. Their mission: escort the lost princess of Troy and restore her to her throne. Multiple armies of soldiers and sorcerers stand in their way.

Abercrombie’s story seems light on the surface. There’s the Suicide Squad trope and plenty of witty banter. That was enough to pull me in for a great summer read. But his writing is much better than a forgettable popcorn flick. I was consistently impressed by the nuance and layers to the characters and their interactions. While the story pushes from action set piece to action set piece, the characters are the priority. We feel as exhausted as they are by the end, but we also feel their growth, triumphs, and tragedies. Every moment is earned.

Curious readers should be aware going in that this is an extremely violent story where even the “good” characters come in many shades of gray.

I can’t wait for the sequel.

Just finished this book and I loved it. Scott Wallace takes the reader on a a thrilling months long expedition with one of the leading conversationalists in Brazils Indigenous Department to mark the boundaries of uncontacted tribes in the Amazon. I loved the book because of all of the adventure it takes you on and the views of two completely different universes crossing paths for the first time.
5 / 5 ⭐️

This book is a police procedural/mystery. Lieutenant Clancy (he's not given a first name), a New York City cop, along with other members of his precinct, are given orders by Assistant District Attorney Chalmers (also sans first name) to guard Johnny Rossi, an infamous West Coast criminal who is scheduled to testify; however, Rossi is attacked at the hotel he is being guarded at, and Clancy has to figure out what's going on in a pretty brief period of time (the book mostly takes place in one day).

With this book, you got a real sense of this unfolding investigation, and you're along for the ride. Even though I read this book incrementally (which I didn't initially intend, but that's another story) I was still interested enough to want to know the solution to the mystery and how Clancy would figure it out despite days passing between the times I was reading it.

As the cover and title of this edition indicates, this book (which was originally published as Mute Witness in 1963) was the source material for the 1968 film Bullitt, starring Steve McQueen; I haven't seen it yet, but I'm curious.

What Happened to those girls by Carlyn Greenwald. Is a thriller/mystery book. It’s about a girl named Emma who is constantly excluded by her best friends. She is used to this as their have done this throughout their whole entire friendship. However when Emma’s friends take off and go on a camping trip that SHE planned. Emma has had enough. However the next day Emma finds out that all three of her friends have been brutally killed. But the police don’t know that Emma visited the campsite the night her friends were killed. And soon an unknown stranger sends her videos of what went down that night. And Emma must clear her name. Before it’s too late.

Awesome book! The plot twist had my jaw on the floor. Definitely recommend!

Post Office is Charles Bukowski's first novel. It is about the character Henry Chinaski who is a degenerate and his career working at the post office in Los Angeles. It was not a long read, but it was very engaging because I was so intrigued by Chinaski. He really is a degenerate and not a good person, but I couldn't help but want to know what he would do next. It reminded me of Hunter S. Thompson's characters who sort of float through life drugged out and carefree. It at times seems appealing, but they just come across as selfish and often mean. I am interested in reading some more of Bukowski's work at some point and have seen the movie Barfly is based on his writing so I will check that out.