THE CRYSTAL TREE by Imogen Elvis // Five Stars

Note: I was given a digital review copy of THE CRYSTAL TREE by the author.


First things first, I am so late in getting this review up. Even though I haven’t marked it on Goodreads yet (I am also way behind on updating my Goodreads), I finished reading THE CRYSTAL TREE, by Imogen Elvis, more than a month ago. I’ve been in the process of moving for the past several months, but now that I have the chance to sit and catch my breath, it’s time to take care of everything I’ve been neglecting.

Imogen Elvis is a great person. I feel like I can’t launch into a review of her book without first talking about her. Normally, I know, book reviews shouldn’t be personal. At least, that’s a rule I try to follow, but it’s more for when I’m writing a one star review, in order to keep myself from saying something mean. This is totally different. I like Imogen a whole lot. If you haven’t read her blog yet, you should do that. She is always sweet and kind, and though she hasn't posted in a while, all her old content is great. She’s one of the people who makes the blogging community feel less like a sterile nothingness, a place where you scream into the void, and more like a home, where people listen. So when I saw that she wanted reviewers for her novel, I couldn’t pass up the opportunity.

One of the first things I noticed about THE CRYSTAL TREE is that it has a similar feel to the Great Tree of Avalon books by T. A. Barron that I read growing up (I guess they’re now just known as the Merlin series). It made me nostalgic and cozy, like I was diving back into the safest parts of my childhood. Maybe I’m weird, but any book that makes me want to reread my favorite books is a good book.

I think one of the issues I have with knowing an author to any degree is that I see them as more immediately human, which means I expect them to be nicer to their characters. It’s kind of like, but I knew that serial killer, he was a great guy—how could he be a serial killer? Not going to lie, Imogen definitely surprised me here. She doesn’t pull her punches (not that I’m complaining, except WHY IMOGEN, WHY? You know what you did). So while Imogen is not a serial killer, I think maybe I should take her characters away from her and put them somewhere safe, at least for a while.

Of course, this review wouldn’t be complete without at least a mention of the magic system. Normally, I’m not a huge magic person, because most magic systems feel stale at this point, like people keep using and reusing the same concept. The magic in THE CRYSTAL TREE is refreshingly different, at least to what I’ve read. The idea of song as a means of working magic? The idea that we all have a life song that someone else can interact with and/or manipulate? Sign me up. It is vivid, beautiful and, at times, frightening. It fills the book with urgency and depth. The main character, Briar, can heal people with her song, which is super cool, but I especially loved her limitations and how they affect her.

And finally, at the risk of sounding spoilery, I like how sometimes the girl saves the guy. That one hundred percent earns you points in my mind.

If THE CRYSTAL TREE is any indication, Imogen has great potential as an author, and I am excited to see what she’ll do next. But I’ll stop talking now so you can go read her book.

A Court of Thorns and Roses // An Overdue Review

Four Stars—Great

I had meant to post my review of Sarah J Maas’ A COURT OF THORNS AND ROSES sometime during Valentine’s week. I’d also intended to review A COURT OF MIST AND FURY and CRUEL BEAUTY during that same week so I could tie them all together with a neat little bow, which obviously didn’t happen. I finished ACOMAF on the last day of February and, as of writing this post, still have yet to read CB. 

Le sigh. 

When I do get around to reading CB (and since my Kindle reading habits have been sporadic and spastic of late, who knows when that will be?), I still hope to do a post comparing and contrasting ACOTAR and CB. I also plan to buy A COURT OF WINGS AND RUIN when it comes out, and I might even read and review it in a reasonable amount of time. We’ll see. 

For now, let’s talk about ACOTAR. 

The Set-Up.

While ACOTAR is primarily a “Beauty and the Beast” retelling (yay!), it also inlcudes elements of “East of the Sun, West of the Moon” (a story that has haunted me for years) and “Tam Lin” (which I was less familiar with). When it comes to retellings, it can be difficult to process and repackage a popular, oft-retold story and still produce something fresh, which is why I think the combination of these three fairy tale storylines is one of ACOTAR’s greatest strengths. 

Feyre.

For whatever reason, I came into the story not expecting to relate to or appreciate Feyre all that much. I think this partially had to do with the fact that I knew ACOTAR is a romance (and if you’ve followed my blog for a while, you’ll know that romance is usually a miss for me). But Feyre’s combination of tough and soft won me over. 

She sacrifices so much of her time and energy to support her family, which did remind me an awful lot of Katniss from THE HUNGER GAMES. Despite the similarities, though, Feyre is still her own character. She is practical, yet artistic, and she somehow finds a way to balance these two aspects of her personality. It can be so easy to see art as non-essential, the first thing to go when life gets hard, and I loved that it doesn’t get displaced in the face of Feyre’s abject poverty—that it’s recognized as a part of who she is. Also, I love that her relationship with painting mirrors her emotional state throughout ACOTAR and ACOMAF. 

Confession time.

Every time a book description mentions fairies/the fae, I find myself losing interest, even though I love books like THE PECULIAR and THRONE OF GLASS. I’m not really sure why this happens, it just does, and I almost skipped out on ACOTAR because it’s a) a romance and b) a book that heavily features the fae. However, I ended ACOTAR feeling more favorable to books of it’s ilk. I consider that a win. 

Content warning.

There is some sexual content, and I am squeamish, so that accounts for the dropped star. 

In Conclusion. 

I’m sad that I didn’t review this book right after reading it because, now that a fair amount of time has passed, my memory has gotten a bit vague on some of the nuances I wanted to discuss. The busier I get with writing, the more I find myself forgetting small details, like my name, or a book’s storyline, so I can’t give you as well-informed a recommendation as I had hoped. But I do remember that I very much enjoyed ACOTAR (especially the ending), and I will eventually want to reread it. 

What about you, my little coffee beans? Have you read A COURT OF THORNS AND ROSES? Will I ever spell “thorns” correctly on the first try? (No. Because I always type “throns.” Don’t ask me why.) What are some of your favorite fairytale retellings? Have you read CRUEL BEAUTY/do you recommend it?

The Sacred Lies of Minnow Bly // My Scary Best Friend

Note: Today I break from NaNoWriMo madness to bring you one last book review before November hits me like a confused airplane.

Rating: Five Stars—ajklsdflk (when words fail to describe how wonderful a book is)

Ever since I first heard about this book, even before it came out, I’d been dying to read it. Scratch that, ever since I first saw the cover, even before I read the summary, I’d been dying to read THE SACRED LIES OF MINNNOW BLY. Let’s just pause for a moment to appreciate how well-designed this cover is. I didn’t need to read the cover copy before I knew the story featured some sort of cult. But more importantly, the way the design focuses predominantly on the hands is absolutely beautiful, considering the fact that Minnow doesn’t have any hands. It’s like this cover did all the work for me. It let me know hands were going to be a MAJOR theme (which they are), and the formatting for the title made me look at exactly what that title is saying about Minnow’s mental state. 

I could go on for an absurdly long amount of time discussing the cover, but I will spare you that, at least for the present. So let’s talk about the book itself, shall we?

The Story. The Kevinian cult took Minnow’s childhood and her hands. Now that the Community has burned to the ground, and now that the police have found the Prophet Kevin’s body in the rubble, it is clear that Minnow knows something about what happened. Thrown into juvie for nearly beating a boy to death, Minnow keeps her deepest, darkest secrets to herself. But when the FBI detective assigned to her case offers her early freedom in exchange for information, Minnow must decide whether to face her past or embrace it. 

The Writing. I see first person present point of view used a lot, and I can tend to get a little tired of it, because I feel like some writers use it without really knowing how to use it. (Wow, that sounds rather arrogant. For shame, Liz. For shame.) It’s one of those writing styles that really really really lends itself to choppiness if you’re not careful (a problem I’ve noticed especially in the DIVERGENT trilogy). So right away, I was shocked by how good this usage of FPPPOV (we’re going to call it that for short) is. Stephanie Oaks’ style is lyrical and beautiful—some of the most poetic prose I’ve ever read. As I was reading, I didn’t have a single moment where I stopped to think that maybe I would have worded something differently, which is saying a lot, since I can be a rather critical reader. (I don't think I've been as impressed by a writing style since IMAGINARY GIRLS.)

Minnow. As someone who has spent the past couple years working through lies I have taught myself (and been taught) and false guilt I have taken as my own, I really related to Minnow’s struggle to unlearn all the things her cult had forced her to believe about life. Minnow isn’t soft or sweet or especially naive. Rather, she is smart and strong and more capable than she realizes. I can’t even put into words how much I love her character (and Angel’s), or even why I love it so much, just that I absolutely adored being inside her head, experiencing the space she has created in her mind and the inner freedom she has always cherished despite the restraints of her cult. In the face of incredible loss and pain, Minnow proves herself resilient. 

The Cult. I love literature and songs about cults. Last NaNoWriMo, one of my rough drafts was actually about a woman’s efforts to unearth the remains of a decades-dead cult and figure out what happened to the single reported survivor after she went missing. I’m really excited for editing that novel next year, because it’ll give me an excuse to research cults. But it’s not like I’d ever want to join one. I think I was just exposed to the concept of mass hypnosis, so to speak, at such a young age that it left an impression on me. I’m interested in the insane, the broken, and the delusional. The people who get swept up in cults like the Kevinian Cult are just the sort of people whose minds I want to analyze and dissect (metaphorically speaking, of course *puts down scalpel*). I love that THE SACRED LIES OF MINNOW BLY gives us a chance to peek into the psychology behind the lies that keep so many people following a harmful man. I love that it shows us the damage and the desensitization that takes place when people learn to crave the perceived safety of a narrow, unforgiving world. 

The Setting. Last but not least, we have the two settings featured in this book. We have the Community, which we witness through Minnow’s memory in all its raw awfulness, and we have juvie, which seems like such a safe, enlightened place in contrast. Since I haven’t read many (or any?) books set in juvie, this was a really nice change of scenery for me. 

In Conclusion. THE SACRED LIES OF MINNOW BLY is so good—it’s beyond good. I can’t even properly express to you how good it is, because the more I talk, the more I think I’ll start to sound like I’m secretly trying to get you to join a cult. It happens. So let me just say, if you are okay with some adult elements/language and a fairly significant amount of gore, I will happily shove this book in your face. It is one of my new all-time favorites, and I think it has the potential to become one of yours.

(Also, if you are interested in more cult-related things, check out this NaNo forum. It's totally not a cult.) 

What about you, my little coffee beans? Have you read THE SACRED LIES OF MINNOW BLY, and if so, what did you think? What are some excellent examples of first present POV? Do you have any recommendations for novels about cults?

WARM BODIES // I Promise, It Only LOOKS Like Necrophilia

Rating: Five Stars—ajklsdflk (when words fail to describe how wonderful a book is)

Can we just take a moment to appreciate the UK cover for WARM BODIES? It’s simultaneously morbid and elegant, which was why I had to buy this edition. (Also, the fun part of the physical book is that the brain stem and veins on the cover are raised like mountains on a topographical map, so you can stroke them, if you’re into being super creepy like that. *whistles casually*) 

Okay, okay, moving on. 

I have a confession to make. 

I am zombie trash. 

If you’ve been my friend on Goodreads for any amount of time, then you probably already know that. (You also probably know that I’m vampire trash, but we’re not going to talk about that. Shhh.) 

I almost broke with my typical Monday/Wednesday schedule and made this a full on zombie-themed week, since I have enough material to review a zombie novel EVERY DAY, plus a fun zombie-related thing on Wednesday. If I wasn’t trying to get all my posts through to the end of November edited before October 15th, I wouldn’t hold myself back. But as it is, I already have enough on my plate without adding extra. *sad face* 

Okay, time for another confession: With WARM BODIES, I watched the movie before reading the book. *hangs head* I’d been planning to borrow the audiobook from the library, but when I saw the movie was on VidAngel, I went ahead and watched it. And I absofreakinglutely loved it. Naturally I went ahead and bought the book so I could eat the author’s brain. I mean read it…with my eyes…

*clears throat* 

Side Note: Normally I do try to read the book before watching the movie, as I am a loyal bookworm, but I also tend to be more forgiving of the movie version if I watch it ahead of time. That way I’m not distracted and annoyed by all the differences. And if I love the movie, I am more likely to be forgiving of weaknesses in the book (as with THE MAZE RUNNER, which I felt was good, but not particularly well-written). 

So lets talk a bit about WARM BODIES. 

The Writing. The first thing you need to know about this book is that it is really well-written. I kept wanting to jump up and share random quotes with my sister, even though I’m normally not the type to do that. 

The Tone. While R’s narration is primarily funny in the movie, his narration in the book is not only humorous, but surprisingly introspective and wise. 

The Main Theme. As can be expected from a zombie story, WARM BODIES deals with what it means to be human and what it means to be alive. But we’re getting this from a unique view-point, since R is a zombie. 

The Story. When R encounters Julie on a hunt, instead of eating her, he rescues her and bring her back to the airport where he lives with a collection of other zombies. As R comes to know Julie, and even care about her, he begins to realize that he is not content as a corpse—he wants to be alive. 

And honestly, as weird—and wrong—as it sounds to contemplate a zombie/human romance (because necrophilia is messed-up), I really, really advise you not to judge this book by its premise. I’ve heard a people say harsh things about WARM BODIES without even knowing what the story is really about. (The rest of this section contains spoilers, so just highlight the blank part to read the text if you don’t mind being spoiled. Also, just so you know, I'm totally stealing TT's method of hiding spoilers.) [SPOILER] If you assume WARM BODIES is about necrophilia, you’re missing the point. It’s not about falling in love with a dead body. It’s not about sex. It’s not a twisted novel about twisted peopled doing twisted things. It’s about recognizing worth and value in a mind that can’t fully express itself. It’s about dying and then coming to life, because that’s what falling in love is like. The whole point of the story is that the zombie apocalypse wasn’t started by a virus or a curse. It was started because people simply stopped living. It started because people became dead inside, and the next step was to start devouring each other and decomposing. 

As R says:

“I think we crushed ourselves down over the centuries. Buried ourselves under greed and hate and whatever other sins we could find until our souls finally hit the rock bottom of the universe. And then they scraped a hole through it, into some…darker place."

The whole point of R and Julie’s relationship is that, when R falls in love, he begins to come to life. If you get all hung up on the idea of a human falling for a zombie, you miss the whole point that this whole shocking set up was set up to make. At its core, it’s not about a human falling for a zombie or a zombie falling for a human—it’s about a zombie falling for life. [END SPOILER]

The Characters. R is one of my favorite narrators of all time. He’s a packrat, romantic zombie with a conscience. I’m not sure how much better it can get than that. 

I also really love Julie. She is smart and strong and brave and refreshingly different. She’s very much alive in her own sharp, wistful, angry way. Normally I don’t find the potential romantic interests particularly well-matched to other each other, so it’s always nice to fall for both sides of a ship. 

Then there’s M, and he’s just perfect. He’s the perfect sidekick, the perfect comic relief, and the perfect second-in-command (of sorts) to R. 

Nora is great too. She is subversive and independent, hardened yet vulnerable. Perhaps my only problem with the movie version is that, while Nora is a POC in the book, they used a white actress. Because apparently it’s impossible to find a black actress for the role. *angrily punches zombie in the face* 

The Parallel. [SPOILER] We need to talk about the whole Romeo and Juliet set up, right down to the balcony scene and the feuding families (alive people vs. zombies). Even the ending parallels ROMEO AND JULIET, since R is already dead (though coming alive) and Juliet’s brief eye color change after the kiss indicates a temporary transition to zombie status. I don't think it's meant to be a retelling of ROMEO AND JULIET, per se, but the elements are there, and I love it. [END SPOILER]

In Conclusion. I have nothing else to say. I feel like R. I have all these happy thoughts about WARM BODIES stuck in my head, but all I can do is bang the keyboard a couple hundred times in an attempt convince you of this story’s amazingness. Dlfkajsdf asdlfkjasfdk as;lfjasldfkj

As you might have gathered, it's one of my new all-time favorite books. 

Go forth. Read.

What about you, my little coffee beans? Have you read WARM BODIES? Have you seen the movie? Which do you prefer? What are some of your favorite zombie novels?

THE WINTER'S TALE // Discussion

SPOILER ALERT: If you have not read THE WINTER’S TALE, please be forewarned that I will be discussing much of the plot, including the ending. So if you don’t want the story spoiled for you, do not read this post. 

Rating: Three stars—Good

I initially gave THE WINTER’S TALE four out of five stars, because it’s Shakespeare and I really like Shakespeare. I like the themes he deals with and his sense of humor and the language he uses. And I think I let that blind me a little to the flaws in this particular play. Fortunately, my subconscious was not willing to let me get away with this. So, as I lay awake one night, it suddenly came to me—the reason why I didn’t feel justified in giving THE WINTER’S TALE four stars. 

The Plot. King Polixenes has been staying with his friend, King Leontes, for roughly nine months. At this point in time, King Leontes’ wife, Hermione, is just about nine months pregnant. Unfortunately, Leontes gets it into his head that Hermione is in the family way because she has been having an affair with Polixenes (I’ll have you know, autocorrect keeps changing his name to King Politeness). After coming to this conclusion, Leontes goes into a rage and publicly accuses Hermione of this egregious trespass, despite her claims to innocence and the claims of those vouching for her. When Leontes orders his servant to kill Polixenes, both the servant and Polixenes flee the country. Shortly thereafter, Leontes imprisons Hermione, where she has a baby girl. 

Long story short, despite an oracle declaring Hermione innocent, Leontes remains persuaded that his wife is cheating on him and banishes his newborn daughter. Hermione and her son promptly die, as foretold by the oracle. 

Fast forward about sixteen years to Bohemia (which, contrary to Shakespeare's assertions, does not have a sea coast), where Hermione’s daughter, Perdita, has been raised by a shepherd and his simple son. Perdita falls in love with Florizel, Polixenes’ son, and after a twisty series of events, Perdita finds herself reunited with her father. Then, lo and behold, Paulina, noblewoman and friend of the queen, reveals an uncannily lifelike statue of the dead queen, which turns out to be the actual queen, alive and well. Everyone celebrates, and everyone lives happily ever after. The end. 

The Problems. Now, perhaps you already see where my issues with the story lie. (If you don’t, I’m not judging you, since I didn’t see it right away either.) 

The first part of the play is decent. We see an unreasonable man suffering a fit of jealous rage in which he essentially destroys his family. Cool. What’s not to love about that? I think Shakespeare handles that part really well. We see that Hermione is clearly not at fault (where in THE GAP OF TIME it actually looks like MiMi might have been willing to have an affair—you can read my full, semi-spoilery, one-star review here). Shakespeare shows us how unreasonable Leontes gets without bogging down the story. It’s all good here. 

Now we get to my first issue. Maybe I read the play too quickly, and I just missed it, but there didn’t seem to be a solid explanation for how Hermione and her son die, except that maybe the oracle actually curses them when Leontes disregards it. I’d buy that, I guess. But it still seems like clumsy storytelling. 

And then, of course, we have the second half of the story, which was not my favorite for multiple reasons. 

It is more overtly inappropriate than some of Shakespeare’s plays. More importantly, the cruder elements weren’t necessary for the sake of the story and ended up clashing with the overall tone. (This is my personal opinion, so if you don’t feel the same way, I’d be happy to hear your reasoning.) 

At long last, the king and his daughter are reunited, which would have made for a lovely ending if the story had left off there. Leontes has had almost two decades to regret his jealous anger. Now he has his daughter back, but she is full grown. He has missed out on watching her grow up, and he will always feel the pain of that loss. That is as it should be. I’m not saying this to be vengeful here. I just don’t believe that you can ignore the natural consequences of negative actions, either in fiction or in real life. If you drop a frying pan on someone’s foot, they’re going to suffer, no matter how much you regret dropping the frying pan in the first place. Your regret doesn’t change the natural course of cause and effect, neither does their forgiveness. So I would have been happy with this bittersweet ending. The damage Leontes has done cannot be fully repaired, and the life that should have been is lost, but he and Perdita can still find a new sort of happiness. 

But then we get to the whole part where the queen is suddenly alive and everything is good and happy. This is where I think there is a lie in the story. First of all, I’m not a fan of Hermione coming back to life. It’s too convenient and happy-feely, and it seems to bypass the natural course of events. It makes sense that Perdita would potentially find her father again, because these things happen. But Hermione dies in the first part of the play. To bring her back is to disregard how very serious Leontes’ crime was. Yes, this resurrection is a result of magic (I think), so I’m not denying that she could be brought back, if magic is a part of this story world. It just feels like Shakespeare is cheating here, presenting us with a sudden and easy happy ending. 

My second issue with this set up is that, when the queen comes to life, she acts as though her relationship with Leontes didn’t leave off on a very bad note. Except, excuse me, but everything is still wrong. Leontes’ regret does not change the fact that Hermione and her son died because of his anger, does not change the fact that he abandoned her newborn. I would understand if the queen had just been living separately all this time (as MiMi does in THE GAP OF TIME) and so had had the chance to come to terms with all of this, but from what I gathered, this is not the case. 

I’m not saying that Hermione should withhold forgiveness. I’m just saying that these things take time. Sometimes a lot of time. To have Hermione instantly acting like everything is okay, is to deny the depth to which she has been wronged. And until you admit how desperately you have been hurt by someone, your forgiveness doesn’t really mean anything, because you are offering forgiveness while simultaneously implying there is nothing to forgive. That is a lie. There is so much to forgive. 

When you forgive someone, you are not denying justice. In order for forgiveness to work, justice still needs to be served. When you refuse to forgive someone, you are allowing justice to happen the cold, heartless way, because you are allowing the other person to bear the full weight of what they have done. It is what happens naturally. When you do forgive someone, you bypass the natural course of events and take the full weight of the pain from the wrong that has been done, and you carry it on your own shoulders until it fades away. All this so the other person doesn’t have to suffer. That is why forgiveness hurts, and that is why it's so powerful. It is a different sort of justice. 

The story would have had a stronger ending, I think, if we had seen how much it takes for Hermione to forgive Leontes—if Shakespeare had shown us how expensive forgiveness of this sort is. There would have been a greater sense of justice in the ending. Instead, Shakespeare has treated forgiveness like it is cheap and effortless, and I reject that. 

What about you, my little coffee beans? Have you read THE WINTER’S TALE? Do you like Shakespeare? What is your opinion on forgiveness? What is your opinion on the ending of the play?

THE GAP OF TIME // Bookworm Is Grumpy

Note: There are mild spoilers in this review. Also, I will be doing a very spoilery discussion of Shakespeare’s THE WINTER’S TALE next Monday, so this is your advance warning if you want to read the play ahead of time. 

I'm using the Canadian cover here, 

because while the American cover is decently attractive in person, 

it's quite ugly online. 

One Star—Ick

I won a copy of THE GAP OF TIME (a modern retelling of Shakespeare's THE WINTER'S TALE) in a Goodreads giveaway. Thank you! 

Unfortunately, I did not enjoy this book. 

As a general rule, I try to be fair and polite when I write reviews. I don’t want to discourage authors, no matter how much I dislike their work. But I am struggling to keep my claws in on this one, so grab your popcorn and settle in. This could get intense. 

The first chapter was beautiful. BEAUTIFUL. I honestly thought it was going to be one of my top favorites for this year, at least. There were wonderful lines, quotes like: 

“What is a memory anyway but a painful dispute with the past?

I read that the body remakes itself every seven years. Every cell. Even the bones rebuild themselves like coral. Why then do we remember what should be long gone? What’s the point of every scar and humiliation? What is the point of remembering the good times when they are gone. I love you. I miss you. You are dead.” 

And: 

“See what I mean about memory? My wife no longer exists. There is no such person. Her passport has been cancelled. Her bank account is closed. Someone else is wearing her clothes. But my mind is full of her. If she had never lived and my mind was full of her they’d lock me up for being delusional. As it is, I am grieving. 

I discover that grief means living with someone who is not there.” 

I love quotes like these. I eat them up. I was sure THE GAP OF TIME and I were going to be fast friends. Having already lucked out with VINEGAR GIRL, another Hogarth Shakespeare that I won at the beginning of the year, I thought that maybe I was going to be two for two. Lucky me. 

Then I got to the second chapter and everything went downhill so fast it was like watching a landslide take out all the houses on a hill. I almost couldn’t believe what I was reading. Of course, there had been a couple warning signs. I’d had to go ahead and skip a few pages because there was some rather explicit sexual stuff. But I figured, whatever, these things happen, especially in adult novels, and I will just have to suck it up and be a big girl and move on. I knew I was signing up for an adult novel when I entered the giveaway. 

Except it got more and more awful. So. Awful. 

After the red herring of a beginning, the story switches from an introspective first person narrative to an angry, angry third person POV. We go from Shep, a character I would have loved to spend the whole book with, to Leo, the stereotypical adult fiction male whose thought life makes me want to take a shower. I didn’t want to be in his mind—his awful, dirty, violent, chauvinistic, angryangryangry mind. I skimmed most of his portion because it was so unnecessarily explicit, and there was no balance to make his thoughts easier to stomach. 

“Wait,” you say. “Shakespeare was known for being inappropriate at times. Surely you knew that when you signed up. This is a Shakespeare retelling. Why are you complaining?” 

You are technically right, but Shakespeare was known for his clever innuendos, the double entendres that you don’t always catch. He doesn’t typically rub them in your face. True, THE WINTER’S TALE, upon which THE GAP OF TIME is based, is a bit more crude than some of his other plays (at least the ones I’ve read). But trust me when I say THE GAP OF TIME is ten times worse, with 90% less artistry. There is a reason why I rolled my eyes at passages in Shakespeare but got angry at THE GAP OF TIME. 

I don’t want to insult the author here, because I can tell she really likes Shakespeare. Good for her. I’m glad she’s found a writing hero. But I think she’s failed to understand certain aspects of his writing. For instance, the fools in Shakespeare’s plays are always the characters who make the most profound statements. Shakespeare was fond of this sort of irony. But Clo, who is supposed to represent the Clown from THE WINTER’S TALE, is merely slow and simple. There is nothing wrong with being slow and simple. But to have the representative of the most wise character be the only one to say the least wise things seems like missing the mark to me. There is also the matter of implying that MiMi does want to have an affair with Xeno, when, in THE WINTER’S TALE, the whole point is that she is absolutely blameless and that her husband is making completely unfounded accusations against her. Liberties like that detract from the power of the story. 

It wasn’t that THE GAP OF TIME stayed as horrible as it was in the first 100 pages. While it had more sexual stuff interspersed throughout the remainder, it was squeaky clean in comparison with the junk in the beginning. What bothered me about all the sexual elements, combined, is that they were entirely irrelevant. The fact that Leo is jealous of his wife and her perceived affair is evident enough in his outpouring of anger against his friend Xeno, whom he believes to be sleeping with his wife. It is evident in his suspicion and his paranoia. We don’t need to have him rape his wife out of jealous anger to see that he is being unreasonable and crazy. That part made me especially angry because it is never dealt with. And don’t try to tell me false accusations of an affair and rape are similar, because they aren’t. Sweeping one under the rug might work okay, but please don’t ever treat rape, of any kind, as though it’s not a big deal. 

And just overall, I don’t think there was any sort of accurate portrayal of love in this story. Everything seems to boil down to sex in the minds of these characters. It’s their predominant thought, and maybe it’s just a personality thing—maybe I just don’t understand because that’s not how my mind works. But sex and love are not synonymous, and when sex is used as the only evidence that two people love each other, I am likely to be dubious of the author’s understanding of love, at the very least. 

There is more. I could probably talk for another thousand words about the other issues that bugged me, like the way the author mistakenly attributes certain observations on human nature to Freud, or the way she offers yet another stereotypical representation of a Jewish character, or the way she clumsily breaks the fourth wall and uses the last portion of the novel to explain her work. 

Part of my frustration stems from a matter of taste and opinion, and I know I am being extra negative. I have not felt this indignant about a work of literature in a long while, probably since I read THE CANARY ROOM. 

I wanted to throw this book at the wall. I considered cutting it up with a pair of scissors so I wouldn’t have to finish reading it. I almost gave up and DNFed, because I figured it probably wasn’t worth waiting till the end to see if the story would redeem itself. And even if the story got better, I knew that I probably wouldn’t enjoy it anyway. But the problem is, I won it in a giveaway. It’s a $25 hardcover (why are adult books so expensive, anyway?) that I won at my request. Which means someone had to absorb the cost to make sure I got this book, with the understanding that I would pay in return with an honest review. I felt I owed that to the author and the publisher. 

So this is my honest review. I absolutely cannot recommend this book. I feel betrayed because the beginning was wonderful and it promised more wonderful, only to follow through with a steaming heap of unpleasantness. There were brief portions where I thought it would redeem itself. There were lines I still liked and remembered. But even those felt forced, as though the author was trying to be profound, and there is a difference between trying to be profound and being profound. 

The only way in which THE GAP OF TIME did not waste my time is that I have never written a book review so quickly in my life. Scrivener couldn’t even keep up with how fast I typed the rough draft—it kept freezing. 

I’m giving THE GAP OF TIME one star because I can’t give it zero stars. And also, the first chapter was nice, and would have warranted five stars if it were its own work. So maybe this book deserves one star for that one chapter, to make things fair and square. 

This is the tiny portion of the book I liked. Also, I am wearing a TARDIS shirt, in case you were wondering. 

(Sorry about the weird angle. I took this photo on my laptop.)

What about you, my little coffee beans? Have you been more than a little angry with a book? Have you loved the beginning of a book, only to be betrayed by the rest? Have you read any Shakespeare retellings? What are some tropes and stereotypes in literature that put a bee in your bonnet?

THE BOOK OF THE BIZARRE // A Jumping Off Point

Rating: Three stars—Good

Basically, Varla Ventura’s THE BOOK OF THE BIZARRE is a collection of morbid and strange factoids. It includes a fair amount of information on a wide number of phenomena and happenings and suchlike, and it’s great—to a point. Some of the trivia is nothing special—for instance, I think most people know that toenails grow more slowly than fingernails since we have to cut our fingernails more often. But for all the information that wasn’t new to me, there was plenty of information that was. 

If you enjoy research as much as I do, and if you’re as morbid as I am, then I highly recommend this book to you because it is a great starting point for more research. I have yet to finish looking up all the stuff that caught my interest. If you’re a writer, especially of the morbid and macabre, you will probably get a few plot bunnies. But, if you don’t like going to secondary sources to read up on things, this book might not be for you. Most of the facts and anecdotes are rather abbreviated and are only worth reading as prompts for further research. On their own, they don’t have too much value. Also, there are some consistency errors within the text, and more than a few of the stories seemed quite implausible, to the point where I can’t recommend this book to gullible people who don’t fact check. (Grandmotherly reminder: It might be printed in a book, but that doesn’t necessarily mean it’s true.) 

I got my copy for a dollar at a library sale, and the physical edition itself is attractive. I’m glad I read it (and glad I own it) because it makes for an interesting conversation starter and it’s given me more things to go out and learn about on my own time. But I wouldn’t necessarily recommend it to you if you were thinking about buying it at market value, because you could just as easily scour the internet for creepy and strange facts without needing to pay a dime. 

What about you, my little coffee beans? Do you like reading books of facts? Do you like doing research?

VINEGAR GIRL // A Tiny Bookish Recommendation

Rating: Five Stars—ajklsdflk (when words fail to describe how wonderful a book is)

I won an ARC of VINEGAR GIRL by Anne Tyler in mid-February, but I haven’t wanted to post my review until closer to the release date. Since June is its release month, I no longer have any excuse to procrastinate. 

Strangely enough, I don’t have a lot to say about this one. It’s not that I didn’t think it was deep or important, just that it was like a nice cup of tea. You quietly appreciate the taste, you finish drinking it, and then you move on to other cups of tea. You don’t necessarily feel the need to explain to everyone just how wonderful that specific cup of tea was and why.  But that doesn't mean you loved the tea any less. (Can you tell I’m drinking tea at the moment? My brain is very confused because the tea is not coffee.) 

The Story. Essentially, VINEGAR GIRL is a modern retelling of Shakespeare’s THE TAMING OF THE SHREW. While Anne Tyler keeps a lot of the basic plot points, she also takes a fair amount of poetic license with the story. As evinced by my five-star rating, despite my love for the original, I’m a big fan of the changes she’s made. She’s simplified the story and taken out a measure of the dramatic, leaving it safe and cozy, but by no means boring. The characters are unique, charming, and lovable (except Bunny—I hate Bunny).

The Tone. Overall, the tone is lighter and quieter. Anne Tyler’s Kate is vinegar where Shakespeare’s Katherine is acid. I felt I was more able to relate to Kate, from her lack of romantic ideas to her propensity toward being a well-meaning bad influence on children. She’s not violent or especially bitter like Katherine—she simply has a mind of her own. 

Highlights. VINEGAR GIRL offers important observations on life and feminism, such as the fact that women are often treated as more valuable once they are engaged/married. 

Style. Anne Tyler’s writing style is quirky and refreshingly different from what I ordinarily read. I’ll have to see about stealing borrowing more of her novels from the library. 

In Conclusion. I highly recommend this book, especially for women, feminists, and all other literate humanoids. 

What about you, my little coffee beans? Have you read any Shakespeare retellings? Are you surprised that I didn’t have a lot to say on this one? (Because I am.) Stay tuned because in a month or so I will be reviewing another modern Shakespeare retelling.

THE SOUND OF EMERALDS Review // In Which I Am an Emotionless Brick

Rating: Two stars—Meh

Caution: Mild, mild spoilers ahead

Wow, it’s been quite a while since I last posted a review. Is it bad that it feels like only a week has passed? 

Anyway, onwards and upwards. 

I was given an eARC of THE SOUND OF EMERALDS by Rachelle Rea. Thank you, Rachelle! (THE SOUND OF EMERALDS released last month.) 

I have to say, I was a bit disappointed with this one. I didn’t hate it, but it wasn’t for me either. Unfortunately, I can’t address the entirety of my opinion because most of my issues are centered around major spoilers, but I will try my best. (Also, if you haven’t read the first two books in this trilogy, maybe don’t read this review, as it will contain spoilers for THE SOUND OF DIAMONDS and THE SOUND OF SILVER. If you want to read my reviews for those two books, you can find them here and here.) 

The Central Plot. Coming into the book, I was expecting the central plot to revolve around clearing Dirk’s name, as had been set up as a necessity in THE SOUND OF SILVER. I was excited to see where that would go. We have tension between Anders, Dirk, and Gwen and, at least at the ending of the previous book, it seems unclear whether Anders will help the two lovebirds or if he will do his best to put Dirk in jail. 

Unfortunately, I was wrong. Dirk’s legal issues take back burner for most of the novel, and the plot that takes its place just wasn’t for me. I’m sure it would appeal to a lot of other people, specifically people who like children. 

Mush Middle. On top of my inability to sympathize with the central issue for this book, I felt that, overall, the middle dragged. A lot of information and feelings get rehashed repeatedly without enough deep exploration of the emotions or broadening of the themes. Dirk and Gwen spend a lot of time at odds with each other, communicating poorly, and operating on assumptions that could be easily dispelled—which was valid and enjoyable for a time, but got old after a while. I can only spend so long watching characters skirt around an easy solution before I get frustrated with them. (I encountered this issue with books like ALLEGIANT and THE ONE.) 

The Plus Side. Despite my complaints, I don’t want to insinuate that Rea said nothing interesting or worthwhile. On the contrary. Rea throws in some profound observations, and her themes are still interesting. I think, with less repetition, I would have given the story three stars instead of two. And to be fair, like I said before, I think my biggest problem with this book might have been more a personality issue than anything. Not to mention, I can be difficult to please when it comes to series conclusions. So, just because I didn’t like it all that much, doesn’t mean you won’t absolutely love it. If this book sounds like your cup of coffee, please don’t let me rain on your parade. 

What about you, my little coffee beans? Have you read any of the books in this trilogy? What have you been reading lately? How easily do you empathize with a character’s struggles?

Book Review: WATERSHIP DOWN by Richard Adams

Warning: As always, I try to stay relatively spoiler free. But it doesn’t hurt to proceed with caution.

Rating:  Five Stars—ajklsdflk (when words fail to describe how wonderful a book is)

 

Well, it’s certainly been a while since I last wrote a book review, and it feels like way longer because—in my mind at least—NaNoWriMo lasted about a century or two. But anyway, I’m back to reviews, and today I’m going to cover one of my many all-time favorites—the book that kept JAWS from claiming the much-coveted #1 slot on the New York Times Bestseller List: WATERSHIP DOWN by Richard Adams.

I’ve talked a bit about this book before, but I’ve been wanting to discuss it in more detail. So here we go.

The Main Rabbits. Okay, a lot of fiction I’ve read starring animals as main characters turns out a bit goofy (with the exception of books like CHARLOTTE’S WEB). While the stories are cute and the critters are charming, they’re not real and you know it. With WATERSHIP DOWN, we enter a much different playing field. Here we have rabbits who feel like rabbits, who act like rabbits, who communicate like rabbits. In fact, most of what I learned about rabbits and their behavioral patterns as a child came from this book.

Instead of giving us furry human-like creatures wearing clothes and going on quests, Richard Adams gives us creatures who follow the rules of nature, who fail to understand the human world, and who might even make you wonder what is going on in the minds of all the rabbits ever (or, maybe that’s just me). Sure, these rabbits are super clever, but they don’t rely on human-based smarts. And they always, always process information the way a rabbit would, rather than the way a human would. (For instance, to them, a train is a giant, fiery messenger from their god.)

Above all, they show themselves to be resourceful, daring, mischievous, and more. They have their own rabbit culture with folklore and legend detailing the harrowing exploits of their original rabbit ancestor. In general, they’re just the best rabbits ever, and they’re the type to be taken seriously, not the type to be cuddled.

The Symbolism. Maybe it’s just me, but I’m pretty sure this book is somewhat of a metaphor for the human existence. As humans, there are many things that we understand about our world, and many things that we don’t. Similarly, the rabbits understand all the details on their level, yet the world is so much bigger and stranger and harder to comprehend than they could ever dream. Like us, they are trying to survive, trying to find a place where they will be safe and well-fed, trying to build good lives for themselves. Along the way, they run into corrupt governments and individuals who are willing to survive at the expense of others. They encounter the caste system, corruption, and lies.

While, like I said, these rabbits are in no way humanized, their struggles resonate with us because they share the same basis, and though they aren’t meant to be us, I think in some way they’re meant to represent us. They are a small part in a bigger world, and we are a small part in a bigger universe. In being their little rabbit selves, they clarify what it means to be human.

Hazel. True, Hazel may not initially seem the most obvious choice for chief rabbit, but despite what he considers to be his lack of qualifications, he does what is necessary to keep his band of followers together and safe. Through it all, he remains humble and gentle, never demanding power and never treating his fellows as though they are less important than him. Instead, he recognizes each individual’s unique value, he helps his friends work together as efficiently and effectively as possible, and he never forgets what the others have done to help him out along the way.

Fiver. Here is where Richard Adams strays a little from established zoological facts by making Fiver something of a psychic or a mystic. But while Fiver’s visions are scientifically improbable, they do make for good storytelling, and the inclusion of rabbits who can glimpse the future and sense hidden sinister motives helps make the book what it is—beautiful and sad and dark and wonderful. Also, Fiver is just plain adorable.

On top of that, Fiver balances out Hazel remarkably well. While it’s true that Hazel is a talented leader, if it weren’t for Fiver, there would be no group of rabbits to begin with. Ultimately, Hazel would not be nearly as effective without Fiver at his side, helping him out, and Hazel makes his biggest mistakes when he ignores Fiver’s advice.

Bigwig (Thlayli). Bigwig is a former member of the Owsla, which is essentially the rabbit form of military/police. (Come to think of it, I’m not actually sure if that’s a thing in real life rabbit warrens, but oh well, it’s cool so we’re just going to go with it.) Hot-tempered and powerful, he is a force to be reckoned with, and yet, once Hazel earns his loyalty, there is nothing Bigwig wouldn’t do for the physically-unimpressive rabbit he has chosen to follow. Despite his occasional surliness and poor judgment, he remains an invaluable member of the team.

All in all, WATERSHIP DOWN is one of the most atmospheric and captivating books I’ve ever encountered. I’ve read it about nine thousand and twenty-three times (numbers not accurate), but it never gets old—it’s still just as suspenseful, just as powerful, and just as incredible as it was the first time I entered the story. And if I had the money, I would buy copies for everyone ever because it would totally be worth it.

Have you read WATERSHIP DOWN, my little coffee beans? If not, what are you still doing here, not reading it? If you have, what do you think about it? Which character is your favorite? Have you read anything else by Richard Adams? Do you think Owl City’s reference to “the crow and the bean field” is a tip of the hat to this book?

Mini Reviews: UNDER THE NEVER SKY, THE YOUNG ELITES, and THE SHIFTER

Note: Since I've finally decided to claim my blog on Bloglovin', here's the link: Follow my blog with Bloglovin. (You're under no obligation to follow, of course.)

Warning: As always, I try to stay relatively spoiler free. But it doesn’t hurt to proceed with caution.

UNDER THE NEVER SKY by Veronica Rossi

Rating: Two stars—Meh

 

On the whole, I don’t think UNDER THE NEVER SKY lives up to its potential. While there were things I genuinely liked about it, I spent most of the book feeling disinterested and disappointed. I mean, the first bit of action with Aria is great and I was all excited for a sci-fi, dystopian with lots of mental landscapes and hordes of people who can’t bear reality. Then the narrative switched to Peregrine’s view point, and I just got kind of…bored. Sure, he’s a cool guy who can smell people’s emotions and see well in the dark. Plus he’s hot (according to Aria). What’s not to like about him? But he lives in a village and hunts for a living and deals with typical medievalish problems. That’s not to say I don’t like stories about that sort of thing, but I was expecting UNDER THE NEVER SKY to be techy and cool and futuristic. I was not prepared for chickens and blood lords and savages with weird super senses. Probably this is my fault, because if I had read enough about the book before I started, I would have known what I was getting into. My bad.

However, I was thrown off for other reasons as well. The romance is creepy and weird, and the transformation between “I hate you” to “I love you” hinges on a rather superficial event. Not to mention, it’s a tad upsetting to know Perry can smell all of Aria’s emotions (and he won’t stop sniffing her #awkward). Give poor Aria a little privacy, please and thank you.

What disappointed me the most, though, was the dystopian element itself. For one thing, Perry’s culture, which takes up most of the book, doesn’t feel hugely dystopian. I mean, sure, Perry and his brother (who happens to be in charge) don’t get along, and the Aether might possibly torch the place, and the people might starve. But none of those things are characteristically dystopian, in the strictest sense—they just happen to be obstacles in the way of happily ever after.

 

For another thing, I wanted to spend more time in the Pods. The people of Reverie (one of the Pods), always wear Smarteyes, devices that allow them to live in hundreds of virtual realms while they go about their daily lives. Aria has been told that people began using Smarteyes as means of entertainment because the Pods are super boring. But that feels like an overly simplistic answer. I want to know why people chose unproductive technology over other forms of entertainment, such as invention and industry and physical play. I want to know the deep hurts in society—the roots of this issue. The Smarteyes—the need to constantly daydream and the fulfillment thereof—are a symptom, and I want to know the cause. Rossi doesn’t dwell on that. Maybe she expands the sci-fi and psychological elements further in the rest of the trilogy (which I do plan to read at some point), but I would have appreciated a more solid first book.

 

THE YOUNG ELITES by Marie Lu

Rating: Three stars—Good

 

I like this story, and I don’t like it (which is my typical reaction to anything by Marie Lu). On the one hand, I love Lu’s ability to create dark atmosphere and heightened tension; but on the other hand, I always find her character dynamics a little lacking. At first I was a bit iffy about the premise, the idea that a mysterious plague has given some of its victims strange (and random) powers, like the ability to control wind, the ability to create illusions, and the ability to affect emotions. But I liked that is was supposed to be a villain’s origins story, so I finally took the plunge.

In some ways, Adelina (our main character) did not disappoint me. She is selfish, sadistic, and warped. Her father’s cruelty haunts her, and her sister’s goodness burns her. Unfortunately, I feel that Marie Lu spent more time telling us (through Adelina) that Adelina is all these things, rather than just showing us through actions. I also got a little (translation=a lot) skittish about Adelina’s crush on Enzo, because let’s face it, she knows that he’s an equally sadistic jerk. He mistreats her and she still gets the hots for him. Umm… Granted, I know she’s messed up and all, but really?

The ending though—the ending won me over. I may feel dubious about the plausibility of many Marie Lu plot points, and I may cringe a little at some of the characterizations and relationships and whatnot, but let it never be said I don’t appreciate the emotion Lu is able to convey so well. There is that.

 

THE SHIFTER by Janice Hardy

Rating: Four Stars—Great

 

Right from the start, I fell in love with this book. It has that perfect blend of quirky narrative and intriguing premise that I tend to crave. Maybe the concept isn’t wholly original, but I’ve never seen anything like it before. Unlike the Healers in the league who remove pain from people’s bodies and transfer it to enchanted Pynvium, Nya can shift pain into other people, a talent that makes her a valuable commodity to those with unsavory intentions. When her sister, Tali, goes missing, Nya must determine what morals she is willing to cast aside in order to get her back.

I love the dynamic here, the way Nya wants to be a good person and not hurt people and all that fun stuff, and the way she justifies her compromises throughout the narrative. I also like how often she remembers her Grannyma’s rather interesting words of advice. Her personality and her backstory feel real and full, yet the author doesn’t spend a long time giving us a huge info dump on the subject.

Also, the world-building is great. From the Healer’s League to the docks, we get to see the contrast between the upper class and the lower class, the ones who can afford healing whatever the cost, and the ones who struggle each day just to find a job so they can eat. I think the setting might have some Egyptian influences, but don’t quote me on that.

Ultimately, I’m glad Janice Hardy didn’t feel the need to send her characters on a quest in order for her story to be a “proper fantasy”, but I do think she could have made life a little more difficult for her darlings. What am I saying, though? I’m just sore that the story ended so quickly, because I WANT MORE. And I want Nya and Danello to become a thing. Aasdfjlksdfk. That is all.

Well, that’s it for today, my little coffee beans. What are your thoughts on these books? Have you read any of them? Do you know if the sequels to UNDER THE NEVER SKY are any good?

Book Review: AN ABUNDANCE OF KATHERINES by John Green

Warning: As always, I try to stay relatively spoiler free. But it doesn’t hurt to proceed with caution.

Rating: Two and a half stars—Okay
 

I know, how dare I give a John Green book fewer than five stars? Excuse me while I go hang my head in shame. I should probably hide from all the rabid fans. Honestly, though, despite my less-than-stellar rating, I enjoyed AN ABUNDANCE OF KATHERINES very much, and I can understand full well why so many people love John Green’s work. But, I had a few issues with this one. So let’s talk about it.

Colin. I adore Colin. In fact, he’s pretty much everything I could have hoped for—super smart, whiney, needy, clever and yet simultaneously dense, self-centered, hurting. I could go on. At this point, some of you are probably planning to point out that most of these character qualities I listed are not, you know, super great. That’s the idea.

I love that Colin isn’t portrayed as superior to everyone else just because he’s extra intelligent. Instead, he struggles even to feel adequate, and he worries way more often than most of his peers that he will amount to nothing more than a failure. He is a prodigy with a great past and little hope for his future. He is a drama queen, and he stays so focused on his own losses and his own worries and his own thoughts that he really doesn’t tune into what his friend, Hassan, might be going through. While he doesn’t mean to treat others as less important, he still manages to convey that what occupies his thoughts is more pressing than anything else. And while he bemoans his latest break-up, it’s clear he did his fair share of smothering the relationship.

Hassan. I liked Hassan, and I didn’t. Though he isn’t a prodigy like Colin, he’s still pretty smart, and he has a great sense of humor (for the most part). He was a fun guy to read about, and he had a great presence in the book. As Colin’s best (and only) friend, he’s able to point out some of the ways Colin sabotages himself. However, I’m a bit of a stick in the mud, and I felt that Hassan had way too many inappropriate things to contribute, and sometimes he seemed like a walking innuendo.

The Prodigy Issue. I love the distinction John Green draws between “prodigy” and “genius”. I love Colin’s real and imagined fears about his future as a childhood prodigy. But I got a little upset every time Hassan or Lindsey shut Colin up. Like, I understand that it can be a tad boring for some people to hear a steady stream of random trivia, because not everyone gets excited about that sort of thing. I do though, and I wanted to read more random facts. I wanted Colin to be able to express himself in the way that makes him Colin, and I felt bad that he had to, so often, zip his lips and tailor his personality to something that pleases other people. Sure, not everyone is as smart as Colin, but if Hassan and Lindsey really care about him, they should be willing to listen to some of the more boring things, because those are parts of Colin’s identity. (I mean, Colin could definitely work on not being a know-it-all or a conversation hog—I’m just saying, the interestingness factor shouldn’t be the only judge of value for what Colin wants to say).

The Concept. The premise is what really drew me in here, even more so than John Green’s name and fame. But, I do feel just a smidge misled because the back cover copy says Colin has been in love with nineteen different girls named Katherine, when in fact, he’s only ever been in love with eighteen (if you’re confused about Katherine the nineteenth, the book will explain—I just don’t want to spoil it for you). Rest assured, this isn’t what won the book such a low rating.

Plot and Characters and Writing. I’ve already mentioned, in so many words, that the characters feel deep and sympathetic. I’m not exactly certain how John Green manages to make a third-person-point-of-view narration feel so close and personable, but I should probably take notes. He offers a dry sense of humor, a healthy dose of trivia, and a level of depth that goes beyond what I might normally find in a YA novel. Sure, the story is about a boy who goes on a road trip with his best friend in order to find some purpose for his life as he deals with his most recent breakup. But it’s also about so much more, like how people wear each other down and build each other up, or how people aren’t always what they seem and first impressions don’t tell the whole story.

Ultimately, while I wasn’t disappointed when it came to story and characters, plot and writing, I was disappointed with some of the execution, specifically, the innuendo. There’s also a sex scene, although it’s not what you probably expect. And there’s a heavy amount of language as well. While it’s not my place to tell authors how to write their books, I, personally, would have preferred it if John Green had cut back on some of these elements. That’s the reason why I’m only giving the book 2.5 stars. I really liked AN ABUNDANCE OF KATHERINES, but I’m not sure I’d feel comfortable recommending it to many people, and, to me, a higher rating would constitute a recommendation. That’s all.

What about you, little coffee beans? Have you read AN ABUNDANCE OF KATHERINES or any other John Green novel? Which of his works is your favorite? What are your thoughts on his writing style and his characterizations? What do you think about Colin? Are you more chill than I am when it comes to rating books? Any other thoughts you’d like to share?