September Review

This month was. A Trip. I read a lot of books, most of which were really good. Honestly, really only the last one wasn't good, but that was a weird way to end the month and it threw me a bit, I'll be real with you guys.

As summer comes to a close here in lovely southern California, I find myself more inclined to read from the warmth of my blanket nest than outside in the sun. But, inside or outside, I just stocked up my to be read pile, and I'm looking forward to what kind of damage I can do to it in the coming month before NANOWRIMO.

But first, let's get started with this month's reviews:

Bone Gap by Laura Ruby

This book was the epitome of southern gothic with a midwest twist. And it was fantastic.

A widely known fact about me is that I've got lots of family in the midwest, and I've set several stories (both fiction and non-fiction) in cornfields, and, as such, they hold a special place in my heart. They are also absolutely terrifying.

Bone Gap does a great job of taking these familiar fields and twisting them into something more right from the get go. It's magical realism at it's finest. The language Rubys uses is poetic, drawing us deeper into the fields until we suddenly realize that we're inexplicably lost. There's a desperation in her words that bleeds into the character, into the readers, and it ramps up the tension already so present in the book.

The story of Bone Gap is one of falling in love and found family. Of getting lost and being found, of knowing what it is to really see someone else, even if you can't see them at all. The story follows Finn O'Sullivan and his brother Sean, who, after taking in a young and injured Polish immigrant named Roza, lose her. Finn witnesses what he knows isa kidnapping, but he can't remember the man's face, and that not knowing leaves him restless. The story picks up two months after Roza's disappearance, and we see the fallout between the brothers and in the town as a whole, people trying to put themselves back together.

It was creepy in a ghostly magical sense, but also in a very human way. The corn whispers and the night comes alive, but the most terrifying thing in the story is a man. Sure, he's an otherworldly man, but he's still a Man. And from a female perspective, that's just about the most scary thing a person can be. There exists within this book an acknowledgment of the natural terror inherent in being pinned beneath the male gaze. Roza exemplifies that, with her beautiful face and tragic history of men always wanting to look, always wanting to touch.

The characters of Bone Gap, both the novel and the town, are very unique, in that small town southern way, where everyone's a character just be existing in the space. Petey was a favorite, a bee girl with a sting, trying her hardest not to fall in love with a boy who can't see faces. But that was what this story was really about; being really, truly seen. In a world that focuses on beauty and surface-level talk, Bone Gap stressed that what people--what women--really truly want, is to be seen as we truly are.

The novel is very grounded in space, even when the characters aren't. Bone Gap itself is like a character, breathing and stretching around to interact with the characters. The language Ruby uses to talk about the places these characters go is so rooted, so visceral, I felt like I was in Bone Gap whenever I turned the page.

There were so many twists and turns in this book I wasn't expected. I was startled a few times by people while reading this, ripped out of the pages and flinching at my coworkers, my friends. It was like trying to drag myself out of a river of mud, so deeply entrenched I wasn't sure I'd ever find my way out. But I didn't mind sinking, because I was so sure Ruby would teach me how to swim.

The whole thing was a little reminiscent of the story of Orpheus and Eurydice, that idea of going to find the person you love. But Finn and Roza weren't the love story, he wasn't a musician. He was just a boy who wanted his family back, and Roza was the one who truly freed herself in the end.

I very much enjoyed this book and highly recommend it.

The Inexplicable Logic of My Life by Benjamin Alire Saenz

I picked up this book because I'm a big fan of Saenz's other book, Aristotle and Dante discover the secrets of the universe, and while I didn't like it as much as the other books, it was still a good read. Saenz is poetic with his depictions of the mundane.

TILOML didn't feel like it had a lot of plot, just a lot of feeling, and that feeling carried the narrator, Sal, and the reader through the course of the story. It's a story of family and death, of learning to understand yourself through those two constants.

I really appreciated that Saenz kept Sam and Sal's story platonic. It feels like too often stories of boy/girl childhood friendships turn into something romantic, but this time it didn't, and I was so pleased. Sam and Sal were siblings, in reality too by the end of the story, and I so dearly love found family sibling dynamics. In fact, the only romance in the story is Sal's father and his boyfriend, Marcos.

The chapter organization was optimal for getting through such a long book at a somewhat decent pace; short and neatly organized, like journal entries. Sal's voice was so specific to his character too, his thought process matching his speech.

Everyone in this story was family, and it felt like they were, both the found and related. Mima was the embodiment of love, but every part of Sal's family was willing to take in and love the strays his father picked up

I thought Saenz's take on children and parents learning to balance how they care for one another and themselves was interesting. Vicente is one of those magic adults that collects wayward and abandons children and teaches them to love themselves and actually does a good job taking care of them.

If you don't mind a slower-paced found family story, give The Inexplicable Logic of My Life a try.

How (Not) To Ask A Boy To Prom by S. J. Goslee

This book was essentially fanfiction with original characters and I Ate That Shit Up. Seriously. It took me like a week to read The Inexplicable Logic of My Life and less than 24 hours to read How (Not) To Ask A Boy To Prom.

Fake dating? Overbearing older sisters? A bad boy who's secretly a huge math nerd? I, as the kids used to say, Literally Cannot. Every part of this book was Great. I laughed out loud when I read on my lunch break today, definitely startling some unwitting Adult People who work in the building and wonder why I sit in the one sunny patch beside the parking lot when it's 87 degrees outside (I get cold, Linda, let a bitch live).

Nolan is the kid of student I probably was in high school, minus the gay artist teenage boy thing. I mean, I was most definitely accidently a kind of pretentious asshole, but in an endearing way that people seem to like in books like Simon Versus The Homosapiens Agenda. Which, this book reminded me a bit of that, with that teenage snark and references to things that are just embarrassing enough to make me feel like I'm in high school again.

And Bern. BERN. Ira Bernstein. The well-meaning kind of bad boy mathlete with weird friends who play spoons at house parties and an octopus tattoo and an only kind of obvious crush on Nolan. UGH. I love when love interests fit into my specific brand of Great. The characters were good, the tropes were Fabulous (Fake. Dating. !!!!), and the book was a quick read that I could reasonably consume in less than 24 hours (Looking at you, Red, White, and Royal Blue, you unreasonable day read).

Overall, this book is a very easy summary with a very predictable story arc. Nolan's sister makes him ask a boy to prom. Bern, resident recently broken-hearted bad boy, steps in to save Nolan from a world of embarrassment. The two decided to fake date and go to prom to a) get Nolan's sister off his back, and b) maybe get Bern's ex girlfriend to want to be his girlfriend again. Simple, easy, nothing to it. Except, of course, Feelings™ always have to get involved, and they're in love, obviously, but think the other person isn't interested. A break-up that's not really a break-up because they weren't really dating (but they totally were) to hide from feelings and pretend to be a hero, before a romantic prom admission of real feelings. And making out on the roof.

I do wish we could've gotten more from Nolan's backstory. He was a delinquant foster kid prior to being adopted, and while I'm not super big on angst (lies, I am), it would've been nice to get a bit more from Nolan on his adjusting to life or thinking about/revealing pieces of his past. Letting Bern in further. Nothing bonds people more than shared trauma, and I definitely would've loved getting to see those more vulnerable sides of both Nolan and Bern.

Predictable, yes, enjoyable, hell yes. There's nothing wrong with wanting a little funny fluff with a touch of angst in the form of a hardcover book. A girl can only download so much fanfiction before she starts to need a physical thing to hold in her hands and bury under the blankets with. And this book is it. I don't even have anything truly substantial or coherent to say about it, just that I genuinely enjoyed reading it and would read it again in a heartbeat if my asshole brain would let me re-consume media. Catch me grinning about how the cover matches my nail polish color and buying all the "similar-to" recommended books on Amazon but from the less expensive and more humane Thriftbooks.com, Byyyyye

Meet Cute by by a lot of people (Jennifer L. Armentrout, Dhonielle Clayton, Katie Cotugno, Jocelyn Davies, Huntley Fitzpatrick, Nina LaCour, Emery Lord, Katharine McGee, Kass Morgan, Julie Murphy, Meredith Russo, Sara Shepard, Nicola Yoon, and Ibi Zoboi

This was a collection of short stories by a variety of YA authors that, if pressured, I would call love stories. A better categorization would be pre-love stories. Stories of characters meeting and possibly falling in love, only we don't get to see the whole relationship, just this cute little snippets of introduction. And most of them I liked, others I didn't. It was a mixed bad, but I did really appreciate the dedication to diversity, as there was a transgender girl and several lesbian couples, as well as a range of people of color featured in the stories. Some were a futuristic take on love, others looked at magic and fate, while others still were high school parties, statistics on the subway, or a dating show. The collection was quirky, cute, and had a little bit of something for everyone (assuming you don't hate love stories).

I've read novels from several of the authors included in this collection, Nina LaCour and Nicola Yoon made a notable impression on me, but was initially drew me to it was the fact that I Absolutely Adore little love stories. There's a good chance I've asked all of my friends, acquaintances, and coworkers how they met their significant other, people the beginning of the story is most often the best. So this was a perfect little snippet of potential.

The authors took a lot of creative liberties with their stories, a few even using second person point of view (which, I'm not fond of, but you do you) to tell their love stories. As I mentioned before, I wasn't impressed with all of them, but they all had something to give to the collection.

This will be a short review because, short of doing a mini review on all fourteen short stories (which I will not be doing, thanks) there's not much else to tell. If you like cute little almost love stories, give this one a try. It only makes you feel a little bit single.

The Weight of Feathers by Anna-Marie McLemore

The best way I can describe this book is that it's a Romeo and Juliet type forbidden romance set to the tune of circus people and magical realism. It's also set along a river, so maybe more Mark Twain's Shephardsons and Grangerfords, but either way it was dark and somehow still delightful. I finished it feeling as though I needed to go out and find a river to swim in or a tree to climb until I became something more than myself. Something more than human.

The language of this novel is absolutely poetic, which adds spectacularly to the magic that already exists within it. And the magic was so seamlessly integrated. The Palomas, mermaid performers with beautiful sewn tales, had their scales, and the Corbeaus, wings strapped to their backs to scale the forest of trees, grew feathers beneath their hair. Each thought the other was cursed because of it, and superstition trailed through these families' different cultures and intertwined histories.

McLemore did a beautiful job of integrating language and culture into the story. The Palomas spoke spanish and the Corbeaus French in addition to their Romani history scattered among them like feathers, a testament to their dedication to family legacy and a way to keep themselves separate. One more difference to curse the other for.

There were so many twists I didn't see coming, beautifully foreshadowed but twisted out of sight until just the right moment, so that the reader can gasp and press a hand to their chest, surprised by the inevitable.

Magic isn't used to explain everything; the power plant emergency and the true tragedy that drove the families from rivals to enemies was human made, human driven, not caused by magic or any family curse. Throughout the book, magic is used for healing and creation--it's the humans, Lace's cousins, Cluck's brother, who act and carry violence.

This is a book about love, yes, but it's also a book about not being loved. It's a book about facing tragedy and what family really means. Lace and Cluck's love story was an enemies to friend to lovers meets star-crossed lovers, familial betrayal and all. I ate that shit right up, climbing the trees and wading through the river with them as they decided what kind of love they deserved. It ended (spoiler alert!) hopefully, with an escape from the people who refused to see the future as something that could be brighter than the past. If Romeo and Juliet had found a way to leave their families behind, it would have been done the way Lace and Cluck did it.

Some things don't change. Some people can't change and will forever be stuck in their ways, gripping the past in wrinkled, angry fists, but that doesn't mean the youth have to listen. Aged wisdom is a very different thing than stubborn prejudice and deliberate misunderstanding.

There's abuse faced in this book, in many different forms, along with learning to stand against it, to stand up for yourself. Sometimes it takes someone else being there for you to learn to protect yourself. Sometimes the boy with the red-streaked feathers and the broken hand needs a girl with burn scars and mermaid scales to tell him he's worth something more than what others do to him.

I've always been a sucker for the found family trope, and this is a story leading up to that-- a leaving of the blood relations after years of abuse and neglect and lies to find something worth living for, worth leaving for: a person escaping another kind of abuse, a lemon tree in a town far away from poisonous rain and floods and family violence.

It you're looking for a love story that's more than it seems, give this book a try.

The Infinite Noise by Lauren Shippen

I've been a fan of The Bright Sessions podcast for probably about 6 months now, eagerly tearing through the therapy sessions of Dr. Bright, therapist to the extraordinary. I laughed and cried with her not so typical patients as they figured out how they fit into the world around them.

I love all the characters (Chloe has a special plane in my heart for sure, and you can't beat having a character share your name, and Sam is pretty spectacular too), but there is something about Caleb that draws the audience in. Maybe it's the empathy thing, maybe it's his love story with Adam, but either way, I was stoked to find out the creator of the series, Lauren Shippen, was writing a book about Caleb and Adam's story. I was lucky enough to meet Lauren at YALLWest, where I promptly cried all over her table, but she's absolutely the sweetest and I was more than excited to read The Infinite Noise.

The simplest way of describing The Bright Sessions is that it's a fictional podcast about a therapist for the strange and unusual. Dr. Joan Bright meets with people who have abilities beyond the realm of normal, including an anxiety-driven time traveler, a mind-reader, and a teenage empath, who can feel the thoughts of everyone around him. These characters are what the podcast dubs atypical, and with Dr. Bright's help they're able to determine the limits of their abilities and how to cope with them in their daily lives.

Now, a book based on a podcast is an interesting thing. Having listened to the podcast, I already knew the overall story and how the characters would fit together, but the book gives us the opportunity to real get into the character's minds, see the behind the scenes events that don't quite make it or are only referenced in the podcast. The Infinite Noise gives us more on both Caleb and Adam, with alternating points of view, something we didn't really get in the podcast.

The Infinite Noise follows Caleb, an empath in high school dealing with the tumultuous emotions of all his peers in addition to his own confusion feelings. He's overwhelmed by everything his classmates are feeling, except for one other student, who feels like an island in the eyes of the storm, something Caleb can cling to in the midst of everyone else's raging hormones. Dr. Bright encourages him to reach out to this student, and wouldn't you know it, therapists give pretty good advice.

Adam, a unpopular, lonely boy dealing with overbearing absentee parents and clinical depression, doesn't understand why suddenly football-player Caleb wants to be his friend, but after crushing on him from a distance for a while now, it only takes a few awkward interactions for them to fall into a friendship both of them didn't know they desperately needed.

The Infinite Noise is a love story about two boys dealing with feelings bigger than themselves, trying to find a way to trust themselves and each other. It's a reminder of how simultaneously terrible and wonderful high school was, of how life changing therapy can be. It's a triumph and reflection, and I loved more than anything getting to step back into Caleb and Adam's beginnings for just a little while. It was heavy and fun all at the same time, as my heart broke and I cheered on these ridiculous boys.

Anyone who knows my taste in tropes knows I love mutual pining and superheroes, so even if the rest of this review felt like me yelling about nonsense and how much I loved it, but you like either of those things, give this a try. Maybe it'll bring you into the world of The Bright Sessions, or maybe it'll keep you for just a single read-through, but it's worth it either way. As Lauren Shippen says, stay strange.

The Selection by Kiera Cass

This book was initial introduced to me by one of my coworkers. One of her students had been reading it and, curious, she'd looked it up, ending up with a copy after further prompting. It was just as terrible as she'd expected it to be, and promptly introduced it to a bunch of us at work.

I found a copy for a few bucks and figured why not.

I am now filled with regret.

This book is like the unholy love child of The Hunger Games, The Bachelor, and some royalty show on the CW I never could bring myself to watch. The world building is chaotic and patchy, with weird moments of sudden knowledge dropped on the reader, like the author couldn't decide if they wanted to make this a romance or a dystopian and didn't know it could be both until afterwards.

In a post World War III world, the United States have fallen to other countries, or something, the history isn't super clear, and have somehow reformed into a monarchy organized by castes, wherein a person's standing is decided by both birth and talent. Certain jobs are regulated to certain castes, and the organization of those jobs doesn't make a whole lot of sense to me, but whatever. The main focus of the book is that in order to marry off the prince of this country, they hold a "random" raffle to draw the names of thirty-five girls who are then brought to the palace for a Bachelor-like competition to see who will be queen.

The main character, America Singer (which, her name alone makes me dislike her so much, Yikes) is immediately given the main personality trait of "I'm not like other girls," while managing to only judge the people around her instead of attempting to actually better herself. It's coming from a place of condescension for people better off than she is, which, yeah, the people she's judging are also not great individuals, but I was hoping for a subversion of those ideas. Maybe she'd befriend these girls and learn that maybe they aren't so different after all, that even the girls who wear a lot of makeup or sparkly dresses has thoughts and feelings that matter.

However, I am also of the opinion that we should probably eat the rich, so this whole situation is a real catch 22.

Regardless, America is a bit judgmental and a little too mary-sue? We're all guilty of creating a character without as many discernable flaws as real people, but she's a little too beautiful, talented, whatever.

America's name is drawn, because plot progression, but here's the kicker: she only submitted her name because her lower caste level boyfriend wanted her to. Which is! A whole other problem! Because not only is she not supposed to be seeing this boy because there's no such thing as birth control in this universe, but he's a whole fucking caste below, which apparently endangers both their lives because TREASON. And then boyfriend (Aspen, that's his name, he has a name, I forget it sometimes) gets upset because America tries to do nice things for his broke ass and dumps her, just in time for her to get chosen to play Bachelor Nation with whatever this country's name is most eligible bachelor, Prince Maxon (Maxom? I had to actually stop and look it up--his name is Maxon. The names in this book are a whole other trip. America's last name is her occupation, but that doesn't carry over for anyone else? It's literally just her? I am confusion).

I hate love triangles, so jot that down. And this book was headed in that direction, I could smell it coming, but it still caught me off-guard. Ugh. Both Prince Maxon and Aspen have traits that are probably positive, I'm sure of it, but trying to actually get an idea of who they are through the haze of America's dramatic lust is difficult.

Pieces of it were bearable. America insults the prince a lot, and literally tells him to his face that she's there for the food. Which, Relatable™.

I now have the arduous task of deciding whether or not I want to slog through the second and third books. My coworkers think I should, because it's so bad it's good, but this book dealt like 8 d4 psychic damage to me in the two days it took to read it, and honestly I think I'm probably good without ever knowing how it ends. Or I can wiki it if I get desperate.

That's all I've got for this month.

Keep writing, friends!

Sam

Literary recommendation: Carry On by Rainbow Rowell

Movie recommendation: Downton Abbey (2019) dir. Michael Engler

#literaryreview #LGBT #review #books #reading #list