Stay with Me

I’ll be honest… I can’t really say I liked Ayobami Adebayo’s Stay With Me. The book is full of heavy sexual themes that make it a tough recommendation for me personally. It’s literary but just… bleh, sad.

The big takeaway: honesty in marriage is crucial. The story makes that crystal clear. But the way it plays out is a let-down. There’s no one to cheer for, as all the characters are masters of their own demise. The ending, in particular, feels what I’d call a “hollow ending.” Think of a movie where a kidnapped child is finally rescued after a terrifying ordeal, hugging their parents in the morning sun. A happy ending, technically. But anyone paying attention knows the kid will be traumatized forever, always be in therapy, never sleep through the night. That’s this book’s ending. The mom and daughter are back together, the husband and wife reunite—but there’s no real happy future for them. The emotional damage is too big to fully repair.

Reading it was a literary experience I could appreciate. It’s just that emotionally, the story is more “ugh, that’s awful” than “aw, I’m crying beautiful cleansing tears.”

This Is What Happened

Mick Herron’s This Is What Happened starts strong, pulling you into a tense, secretive world that promises espionage and psychological intrigue. I liked the opening—the setup suggested something layered and clever. Unfortunately, the story didn’t quite deliver.

I figured out the mystery far too quickly, and I really don’t read a lot of mysteries. In fact, I assumed something more elaborate was coming because I couldn’t believe it was that simple. But no—my early assumption turned out to be right, which made the rest of the book feel like a slow march toward an ending I already knew.

The ending itself felt forced, with the sudden reappearance of a long-lost sister that added a life-save at the end. Meanwhile, the protagonist’s journey was hard to watch—not because of the writing, but because she came across as painfully, horrifyingly gullible. It became way too obvious she was being manipulated and abused, yet the drawn-out timeline made her seem almost unrealistically naive. Condensing the events might have made her character arc feel more believable.

Another important note: there is sexual assault in the book. It’s not graphic, but it’s still worth a trigger warning.

armada

Ernest Cline’s Armada is a fun, fast-paced read that definitely has some of the heart of Ready Player One, but it’s missing the mystery and cleverness that made that book so special. The story is basically every nerd’s dream: a regular gamer gets the chance to save the world. It’s a page-turner but an unsatisfying one.

Everything happens way too fast. The romance? Instant love at first sight, barely believable even for a teenagr. The whole story should’ve stretched over at least a year or so to give the characters and plot more room to breathe. Even the action felt rushed at times, which is weird because you’d think real combat against aliens could be planned out a bit better? Like, why would they not have fixed that a player respawns miles/minutes away from the battle? That felt pretty silly.

The ending? Kind of disappointing. Still, Cline’s love for pop culture and gaming is all over the book, and it’s fun to see him lean into that again. I smiled a lot (I think more than I rolled my eyes).

cutting for stone

This novel spans so much in a deeply troubling historical setting that when I was asked what the book I was reading was about when I was holding Cutting for Stone, I sort of mumbled “it’s about a doctor in rural Africa.” And that doesn’t cover, um, much of it. And yet, it IS the story. Or maybe it’s the context? It is a family epic, for sure, but also about a war refugee in America…

The opening is roughly 80 pages about a woman dying in childbirth, but it sets the stage for everything and everyone that you’re going to need to truly understand and deeply feel this story.

I will say, having finished the novel, I looked up a lot more of the medical terms than I needed to. The author is a celebrated Stanford doctor, and it shows. But I assumed I needed to know more than I did, so if I can save you a minute or two each page, I’m saying, just do what you do with fantasy character names and mumble the first letter of the word in your head, then move on with the story. You don’t really need to know which part of the kidney he’s cutting out, unless you’re interested in kidney surgery, in which case, I would assume you’ll find this to be a very gratifying read.

This story has a lot of really vivid images. One moment that stuck with me was an identical twin receiving his own gift for the first time on his tenth birthday - meaning, a gift just for him, that someone selected because they knew and understood him as an individual - versus both boys just getting a duplicate of the same thing since they were viewed as the same person. Fascinating.

Another memorable moment was a young man in medical school gaining knowledge rapidly, and realizing one day what killed his mother many years before, which had gone undiagnosed at the time. What an interesting and strangely tragic moment of discovery.

This is a very long book, and it’s not always a happy book. In fact, I might venture to say, it is rarely a happy book. And yet, it’s wistful. The book does not leave you feeling terrible. Abraham Verghese knows what’s he doing, even if it takes most of his characters a lifetime to figure it out.

Warning: This book contains a lot of war violence, including sexual violence and violence against children.

the wingfeather saga

There’s so much to say about this book series. I bought it for my son based on the faith reviews. When the TV show was announced, I had to read them before we could family-watch, as we have an official books-before-movies policy.

Once Andrew Peterson booked a concert at my church, I decided I had to read them faster so I’d be done in time! Fortunately, as these are children’s books, they are very fast reads, despite getting longer as they go. Also, the delightful titles North! Or Be Eaten and The Warden and the Wolf King… chef’s kiss. Perfection.

There’s definite darkness here, fair warning. Abduction, child slavery, family betrayal, war violence in general — I’d say at least Narnia level (but without the overt allegorical features).

Things you don’t understand yet but soon will:

Peet the Sock Man. Ships & Sharks. Blindplop. Toothy Cows. Podo.

And then he heard the most terrifying sound you can experience in the Glipwood forest: Moo.

I know that doesn’t make sense. Yet. So go read the series.

One warning: I would not have kept going if I didn’t have my son telling me how good the story is… because the beginning is rough. I mean, I love silly, but it is SILLY. In my opinion, the first few chapters do not match the tone of the rest of the series. I mean, it remains funny (expect fart jokes), but only in the context of a very compelling adventure.

I don’t want to ruin too much (mild spoilers ahead) — but things I loved:

• The little sister’s gift is the weak one UNTIL IT ISN’T and then you’re like WHHHHHAT and it’s just the best best best

• The older brother hates being the caretaker UNTIL HE DOESN’T and then you’re like WHHHHHAT and it’s just the best best best

• Ugly isn’t evil, but beauty isn’t kindness, either

• Fatherhood and adoption (possibly too speedy but we’ll give them that in a time of war)

• Dogs, of all sizes (all sizes)

• Troll poetry

• The way the humans have a choice to serve evil (and we do choose it) but at the same time cannot choose to be “good” ourselves, goodness/redemption is a gift at great cost

Do I love every single editorial choice in the books? No. I would complain about a few specifics (one big one, ahem, the golden bear).

Are the stories still fan-flippin-tastic? Yes. Read them with your family. You’ll cheer SO MUCH and probably a bit cry, too. And if fast jokes are you jam, you will also laugh.

black cake

Black Cake was such a beautiful book to read. I didn’t love the story the way I wanted because the family was too terribly sad, but the novel was gorgeous.

When I read names in novels I often just skim over them in my head (I know other people say they do it, too.) I think because of this, two large “reveals” in the book were ruined. I discussed the story with another reader who said she was surprised when she realized that two characters were the same person — and later that another two characters were also the same person. But I’d already made the pairs the same person in my head somehow, I guess due to my inattentiveness in focusing on the names? So I think that took something away from the story that might have felt more revolutionary as the book progressed.

Nonetheless, the writing was so engaging. The actual lyrical feeling of the words - expertly capturing emotion - made me want to keep turning pages (even though the brokenness of the characters made me want to quit). I definitely felt the heavy sadness of generational issues in this story.

Stories with two timelines can be done effectively, and although this was about the easiest plot mechanism ever to do that (listening to a recording from a dead character tell the story of the past), it was still really effective.