book review: leonard and hungry paul

A note: Why is he called Hungry Paul? Well, read the book and you still won’t know. It is never explained. This is infuriating, as I feel like I’m best friends with all the characters now and they haven’t let me in on their inside joke. This is 100% not ok.

Leonard and Hungry Paul was such a sweet book. Nothing whatsoever happened but also the people lived very dear, normal, kind lives. In some stories, I find myself worn out because there’s no one to root for. I need at least one person who isn’t making terrible choices to make their life worse.

Somehow in this book, I was rooting for everyone. Leonard, Shelley & Patrick, Hungry Paul, Peter & Helen, Grace & Andrew, Mrs. Hawthorn & Barbara. I’m sad I didn’t get to meet Leonard’s mother; I obviously would have liked her. I read a review that called this “a coming of age story for the already aged” and that is a perfect summary.

The ending was so sweet. I know I used that word twice, but it really was just the gentlest and most unexpectedly endearing turn of events. I am delighted. Also this book had so many genuinely funny moments that felt so normal to life. My own extended family is full of energy and life and laughter. The sewing kit, the mime interview… these things just felt so hysterically believable to me.

You may wish to note the above.

book review: the muse of nightmares

After Strange the Dreamer comes The Muse of Nightmares. First, I respect Laini Taylor because there are so many stories that could be told in this world, but she kept it at two so the story stays strong and doesn’t continue it endlessly, watering it down until people who liked the originals are wondering why they’re still here. I hate that about book series.

The Muse of Nightmares picks up immediately but also introduces some deep new characters. (Once again, content warning as the sexual violence in this series remains, albeit generally implied, but a central theme, and many characters are handling their trauma with varying degrees of anger, peace, desires for revenge, and more.)

With the introduction of other worlds, much backstory is added to explain the breadth of the evil that surrounds Weep. And if you didn’t already hate the bad guys, you get a longer list of reasons to hate them.

Neither of these books could be considered “happy” or having an HEA, but they do offer at least a realistic sigh of relief when some of the violence of war ends.

book review: strange the dreamer

Strange the Dreamer gives us a lowly librarian who dreams of more, then gets more than he bargained for.

As opposed to the other book featuring a blue-skinned female lead that I read and did not love, this one I enjoyed. It was fast paced and surprising a few times, and I really enjoyed the portrayal of dreams which are, no surprise based on the title, a very relevant part of the book. Also, this story alone didn’t feel entirely incomplete even though it starts a two-part series.

(Content warning: there is a fair bit of sexual violence which is not explicit but a very weighty overarching theme of the abuses of power that are the central conflict in this story.)

This is a fantasy world with gods (well, slain gods, thanks to the godslayer, the saddest guy you’ve ever met) and — oops, there’s someone in there — their half-human children that live in a massively immoveable behemoth hovering over the city of Weep. It’s an interesting setup as the reader moves between the settings and understands the terror each feels for the other. There’s a huge element of prejudice to be overcome, and a large skills gap of magic to be overcome and explained.

Memorably, a totally maniacally crazy girl that is generally pretty freaky. Also a spoiled brat man-child and some metal animal giants.

The names in this duology irritated me a lot at first — oh, really, the weird guy’s name is Strange, mmhmm — but they kind of grow on you. The town where all the terrible and sad things have happened is called Weep, and you just sort of get immersed with that as part of the world.

book review: hidden figures

Yes, I know I’m years behind on reading this, but there’s only so many hours in the day — and there are a LOT of pages out there. Hidden Figures was absolute perfection. What an uplifting and exciting true sweeping account of black women in the sciences. Wow.

People told me this book was about Katherine Goble Johnson and the other black female mathematicians who helped win the Space Race. They’re not wrong, but they’re also not really right. It’s so very much more than that.

This nonfiction piece read like fiction. It was just so exciting. Dozens of characters can be a little difficult to keep track of, but you quickly realize who the main names are and the rest can become a beautiful buzz of “everything else that was also happening.”

I, being the Trekkie I am, knew all about Dr. King’s contribution to the final frontier, but the way that Shetterly basically uses it as the final story to ice the cake… [air kiss] sheer perfection.

Side note, I watched the movie right after. Mistake. I knew it, and I did it anyway. I hate to be the person who says the book was better (even though it always is), but in this case, the book was so so so much infinitely better. And it wasn’t even a bad movie. The book was just that good.

book review: the midnight library

This book was a slightly depressing series of “would you rather” choices. You discover, along with Nora as she travels the many possibilities of her life, that there’s not always a right and a wrong decision to be made.

This story reminded me of the movies Sliding Doors or The Butterfly Effect, in that the reader (viewer) keeps having ideas of what will lead to the HEA, but it’s still not right.

The concept was executed in a bit of a confusing way for me, kind of a bureaucratic after-life as you see in The Good Place or Loki. Lots of confusing rules and some waiting around in lines.

I enjoyed seeing a single character in so many roles. They all seemed to make sense based on the setup, so I enjoyed that the author didn’t just throw the character into random settings.

The ending was more mundane than I expected. I think if I had read this before I absolutely loved Dark Matter by Blake Crouch, I may have enjoyed this more. But this felt like a much sleepier and far less romantic version of that.

book review: lillian boxfish takes a walk

Lillian Boxfish takes a walk was my New Year’s Day read. (I started it on NYE before our annual costume murder mystery party, 20s themed this year.)

I’ve worked in marketing and focused on writing for most of my 18-year career, so Lillian’s story was especially engaging to me. She was the “highest paid woman in advertising.” Although the sexism of the time with its differentiated pay rates was very briefly covered, most of the story focused on decades of Lillian’s life and the breakdown of her marriage.

The book was a mostly positive look-back over a life spanning war in the 1940s and into the orange-lipsticked 1980s. Getting to know Lillian in various decades and in various parts of her life maturity was fun, but since the entire book takes place in a few quick hours, you keep up like you’re walking as fast as dear aged Lillian.

A bit of a depressing twist at the end, to be sure, left me sad and (just slightly) surprised, but overall the book intended to present a life well lived. It was a creatively mapped journey through NYC with some memorable characters. A highlight for me was a mugging (or near-mugging, depending on your perspective) involving a fur coat.

Lots of rhymes that were cheeky and full of life are included; from the booknotes, I learned they are from a famous advertising woman of that era that inspired the book although the character is entirely fictional.