Posted in Book Review Tuesday

Book Review Tuesday (3/18/25) – The Teller of Small Fortunes

Happy Tuesday, bibliophiles!

You know it. You know I’m all for cozy literature. I wasn’t particularly in a moment where I needed cozy fantasy, but these days, I love to space them into my regular reading rotation to keep things lighter, if need be. I’m usually more for sci-fi than fantasy, but I love a good fantasy every once in a while. The Teller of Small Fortunes wasn’t the best cozy fantasy I’ve read, but like a mug of tea, it was great for a momentary hug of warmth and love.

Enjoy this week’s review!

The Teller of Small Fortunes – Julie Leong

Tao is an immigrant from Shinara, making a living far to the west in Eshtera. She makes a living off of fortune-telling, but hers are not like the grand tales that people expect from those with Shinn heritage. But Tao’s fortunes have a catch: they are small fortunes, minor events that seemingly have no consequence, but will add up towards a life of crucial choices. She cannot stay for long in one place, lest these fortunes pile up and her customers start to expect more complex predictions. But when she crosses paths with an ex-mercenary and a thief-turned-poet on the road, Tao has to keep a promise to the fortune she gave them: they’re looking for a missing girl, and Tao knows that she’ll be reunited with them. What’s unknown, however, is how it’ll happen…

TW/CW (from Julie Leong): political conflict, death of a parent, parental neglect, racism, grief, alcohol

While The Teller of Small Fortunes wasn’t the best cozy fantasy I’ve ever read, if you’re looking for something sweet to tide you over, look no further! In the mood for found family, cats, spells, and wonky pastries? I’ve got just the book for you.

Given the crowds that I hang around with, it might surprise you that I’ve never actually played DnD. I’ve always been adjacent to people who are into it and frequently play it, but I’ve never played myself. By osmosis, I know enough about it to discern that anyone who loves DnD will absolutely eat up The Teller of Small Fortunes! Somebody with more DnD knowledge could probably sort each character into a class, but I’m illiterate in that department; yet even still, I can tell that it came about in the way that many DnD campaigns seem to: out of love and out of friendship. Leong’s cozy fantasy has the perfect balance of wholesomeness, levity, and more serious themes, and overall, it’s an ode to the friends we find in unexpected places. The contrasting personalities of Tao, Mash, Silt, and Kina made for a delightful found family with goals that often got in the way of each other, but twisted to form a journey across a fantastical land that taught them lessons about identity, friendship, and individuality. It’s just so sweet. Admittedly, it did border on a bit cloying at times (even for me, both with my cozy fiction proclivities and my merciless sweet tooth), but overall, cozy fantasy fans will be more than satisfied. Plus, there’s a cat. Automatic win in my book.

Tao’s character arc and the themes around it were the heart of The Teller of Small Fortunes. This novel focuses heavily on her immigrant identity, but it explored something that I haven’t often seen with these narratives. In order to make a living outside of her home country, Tao has to perform a stereotype—in her case, being a seer. She relies on this preconceived notion of her people all being able to see the future, and knows that she’ll be able to make money off of it, yet she tries so hard to make it define her. On the other side of the coin, there’s the Guild of Mages, who physically want to use her as a pawn, fitting her into their similarly superficial stereotype of what a magic-user should be. Yes, The Teller of Small Fortunes is very much a “be yourself” narrative (I will always hate Disney for making people trivialize this kind of message), but it’s one that’s complicated by the nuance of the aspects of Tao’s identity. For her, being herself is a lifelong fight, held up by several systemic forces of oppression. Her journey is a mental one just as much as it is physical, and it required the same labor, with a satisfying conclusion: the conscious effort by her to not let other people box her in.

However, the writing sometimes got on my nerves. For me, cozy fantasy can sometimes fall into the trap of being almost condescending in its writing style; it veers to strongly into the “and what did we learn today, kids?” kind of storytelling, even if it’s often aimed at adults. There is a marked difference between having a low-stakes plot and dumbing down the language for your audience. The Teller of Small Fortunes didn’t completely fall into making the language overly digestible, but every plot point and side quest (of which there are many) tended to have a very clear, obviously stated lesson that accompanied the ending. Even if said plot points were well-executed—which they often were, especially the scene with the phoenix egg—their impact was often lessened by the regurgitating of what the scene was meant to mean for the characters and the message, as if we couldn’t figure it out. I honestly didn’t mind that these plot points, especially the ending, were wrapped up in notably kind, easier ways—that’s almost a staple of cozy fiction, at this point—but we didn’t have to get their message shoved in our faces on a neon sign. Additionally, as a character, Kina also erred on this side of saccharine—she was sweet in the way that some cozy fiction characters are, but like the pastries she made, it got a little too sweet in a grating way.

I also found the worldbuilding to be quite generic. The Teller of Small Fortunes was one of those fantasy novels that took existing countries, copied and pasted them into the narrative, and added magic and mythical creatures; Shinara was clearly an analogue for China, which, while it was great for the themes of anti-immigrant sentiment and xenophobia, didn’t make for worldbuilding that was interesting or novel in any way. The same can be said for most of the other places that Tao and the gang pass through—most of them fell under the “vaguely European, I will not elaborate” curse that plagues high fantasy, and the only things that distinguished them, if any, were some of the exports/trades that they had. I will say that I loved the system of the Guild of Mages, and they served as great commentary for tokenization and a distant but tangible source of corruption in the world, but they didn’t have enough of a presence for them to have an effect on the world for me. It all felt very lackluster to me in contrast to the care that was put into the characters. I also would’ve liked more clarification on the regional magic. It’s implied through some of Tao’s background that magic is often associated with/endemic to particular regions (hence the stereotypes of Shinn people being seers/fortune tellers and whatnot), but we don’t get a clarification of whether or not the rule also applies to the surrounding regions.

Overall, a cozy fantasy that had lovely, poignant characters and themes, but was less fortunate in the worldbuilding department. 3.5 stars!

The Teller of Small Fortunes is a standalone and Julie Leong’s debut. Her next novel, The Keeper of Magical Things, is a companion novel set in the same universe as The Teller of Small Fortunes, and is slated for release in October 2025.

Today’s song:

That’s it for this week’s Book Review Tuesday! Have a wonderful rest of your day, and take care of yourselves!

Posted in Book Review Tuesday

Book Review Tuesday (2/18/25) – Drown Me with Dreams (Sing Me to Sleep, #2)

Happy Tuesday, bibliophiles!

QUICK ANNOUNCEMENT: because I’m trying to divorce myself from Amazon as much as I can, I’m finally moving over from Goodreads to The Storygraph. From now on, my reviews will be available there @thebookishmutant.

I started the Sing Me to Sleep duology last year, and now that book 2 is out, I figured I would pick it up for Black History Month, but also so I could finally get some resolution! And I sure got a resolution…one that wasn’t as enjoyable as the first book, but nonetheless a twisty, romantic ending to a fantasy duology that balanced fun and social commentary.

Now, tread lightly! This review may contain spoilers for book one, Sing Me to Sleep. For my review of Sing Me to Sleep, click here!

Enjoy this week’s review!

Drown Me with Dreams (Sing Me to Sleep, #2) – Gabi Burton

Saoirse is on the run. Now that her siren identity has been exposed, she must flee to the other side of the wall that divides Keirdre from the rest of the world. Taking sanctuary with the budding Resistance, Saoirse discovers a world full of different species that Keirdre drove out of its kingdom, all waiting for the day that they can take back what is rightfully theirs. But tensions are brewing, and war is imminent. On the other side of the wall, King Hayes, her secret love, awaits, but do his loyalties remain with Saoirse? And will Saoirse be able to fend off the rising tides of war?

TW/CW (from Gabi Burton): murder, graphic violence, discrimination/segregation (fantasy), genocide themes, blood, descriptions of injury, imprisonment

You would think that a book that’s over 400 pages would have plenty of time to work out all of the wrinkles in the plot and the worldbuilding…apparently not. In a perfect world, Drown Me with Dreams would be a great second book in a trilogy, but in this world, it was a duology concluder that tried to do far too much. That doesn’t mean that it was bad by any stretch of the imagination, but it was certainly a step below Sing Me to Sleep.

Oops. I end up stumbling into books with startling relevance to the current climate, and oh my god, am I sick of using that phrase. But. Drown Me with Dreams does an excellent job of expanding on its themes of resistance, racism, and misinformation! Saoirse has now figured out that there’s a wide world beyond the walls of Keirdre that has been obscured by the racist regime in her home kingdom; now that she knows the truth, she’s exposed to a myriad of perspectives and has to do the work herself to deconstruct the lies she’s been fed all of her life. She meets dozens of new mythical species that have been respectively discriminated against by Keirdre, and finds out firsthand how many falsehoods that the ruling powers have upheld for decades. The simultaneous revelations and discomfort of Saoirse discovering the truth is such a wonderful thing for a YA fantasy book like this to explore—in the end, it’s up to us, in our varying experiences in the real world, to discover the truth about how our governments can shape (and mis-shape) the narratives we grow up on. I also love the themes of solidarity present—fantasy or not, I love that the kind of feminism that Drown Me with Dreams champions is the kind that holds celebrating individual experience and solidarity under shared oppressions in equal regard. It’s the kind of unity that I believe will push feminism forward, and it made for a powerful statement in Drown Me with Dreams.

Even though Saoirse and King Hayes were kept apart for the first half of the novel, Drown Me with Dreams had a great resolution to their romance! Was it classic, YA fantasy romance cheese? Yes. Was it good cheese? Absolutely. To paraphrase one of my high school English teachers, there’s a difference between gourmet cheese and “American cheese-food.” I’ve been a YA reader for quite some time now, and there’s a difference between cringeworthy cheese and high-quality cheese. Drown Me with Dreams falls into the latter category, 100%. There’s angsty angry-kissing aplenty, but it’s written believably. If anyone is looking to do slow-burn, enemies-to-lovers romance right, look no further. Saoirse and Hayes weren’t just given enough time to have their romance develop—the stakes of their forbidden love were built up for the whole series, and their chemistry together made for some high quality smoldering. It’s not trying to be enemies-to-lovers in the way that most BookTok fantasy books try and fail to do—Burton’s given us a well-developed romance you can root for, and it made Drown Me with Dreams a standout read in that department.

In my review for Sing Me to Sleep, I mentioned that the book’s main flaw was that it was juggling far too many characters. In that same review, I commended Burton’s ability to craft a rich, layered fantasy world. Both of those aspects collided in Drown Me with Dreams with disappointing results. In Drown Me with Dreams, we finally see the world beyond Keirdre, and it’s full of all of the creatures that Keirdre drove out—dryads, goblins, sprites, you name it. On the surface, I was so excited to see this aspect of the world, but two main issues arose. The first was that we were introduced to a truckload of characters, almost 80% of which had barely anything memorable about them other than the fact that they were from a “new” species. Some of them were slightly consequential, but only just. I had so much trouble keeping track of all of them, which definitely muddied my reading experience. The second problem was that all of this worldbuilding was crammed into a single book—with a kingdom and world this expansive, it needed at least another book to develop fully, which hindered how fleshed out the world ended up being, after all of these promises of it being fascinating and new. (Also, I get the point about racist narratives being made with the goblins, but…what was the reason for making goblins into glorified elves? Why did they need to be conventionally attractive?)

Which brings me to my second major gripe: this series should not have been a duology. Not only are we introduced to a staggering amount of worldbuilding that only amounts to a single book, the same goes for the plot. A full resistance movement, the tensions within said resistance movement, the looming threat of war from multiple sides, and the fallout from said monumental war are crammed into 424 pages…should be enough, right? Most of what I described only happens in the last 2/3rds of the book, and nothing gets nearly the attention it deserves. We get dragged along with a pointless red herring of a love triangle (only for Saoirse to end up with her main romantic interest and for the other guy to just DIE GRUESOMELY? I didn’t really care about the guy, but pour one out for Carrik), and all of the interpersonal conflict rarely lasts, only providing detours on what should’ve been a rich plot on its own. As with the worldbuilding. Drown Me with Dreams should have had at least one more book to expand on everything. It’s a case of Burton biting off far more than she could chew, to unfulfilling results.

All in all, a duology-concluder that didn’t deliver on its epic worldbuilding promises and rushed its climax to a dizzying degree, but delivered on its past themes and promised romance. 3.5 stars!

Drown Me with Dreams is the second and final book in the Sing Me to Sleep duology, which begins with Sing Me to Sleep.

Today’s song:

so uh guess who’s obsessed with the apple tv+ björk concert film

That’s it for this week’s Book Review Tuesday! Have a wonderful rest of your day, and take care of yourselves!

Posted in Book Review Tuesday

Book Review Tuesday (10/29/24) – The Book That Wouldn’t Burn

Happy Tuesday, bibliophiles!

The ranting hour is upon us…yet I didn’t hate the book I’m reviewing today. It’s not abject hatred, more just frustration. Maybe I am a good-for-nothing Gen Z-er with no attention span, but I feel like if you don’t get into much concrete worldbuilding until the halfway point of a nearly 600-page book, that’s a real crime in your writing. Unfortunately, The Book That Wouldn’t Burn is guilty.

Enjoy this week’s review!

The Book That Wouldn’t Burn – Mark Lawrence

At a young age, Livira was kidnapped, then rescued and delivered to a sprawling city. Within that city was The Library, a building with layers upon layers inside, containing an archive that spans thousands of years. Now focusing on the education she never had, Livira will discover secrets that will change her world forever.

Evar has lived his entire life trapped inside of the bowels of The Library. Hunted by monsters, he was orphaned at a young age, and his siblings have slowly been picked off as well. With no escape in sight, he spends his days desperately looking for a way out—and he cannot see one until he finds a lost girl named Livira.

TW/CW: kidnapping, loss of loved ones, blood, violence

DNF at 44%.

I know I often gripe about long fantasy novels taking eons to get to the point, but this pushed it to the extreme. All of the rave reviews kept swearing that there was some massive payoff to the excruciating trek that was this book, but the intangible promise of something wasn’t enough to keep me going. The Book That Wouldn’t Burn felt stuffed to the brim with plot lines of no substance or development, and it’s not like the book was too short to be cut down. 571 pages. There were absolutely some chapters that had no business being there.

Suspense and worldbuilding are story elements that normally aren’t confused, but it seems that Lawrence got them mixed up in the construction of The Book That Wouldn’t Burn. It’s one thing to have a crucial element of your world be a secret—that was what the novel hinges on, and from the looks of it, understandably so. This technique is mainly for elements that will change the way the reader and the characters perceive the world. Lawrence’s problem was that he applied that to almost all of the worldbuilding. We get a brief glimpse of the outside world, but not much is known save for the divisions between humans and sabbers (a hostile, dog-like species), and that there’s a Vaguely Medieval Epic Fantasy Town™️ outside of The Library. I get that the focus is on The Library, so what’s the point of establishing any of it if it’s not going to be of any consequence later on in the book? Granted, I didn’t finish it, but the way it was written was so hasty. I did get some semblance of how The Library works, but it was too little too late. If you dangle some reveal over the reader’s head the entire time, you should at least have some information about the world to scaffold why you should care. To some extent, I can see that since all of this was foreign to Livira, but that’s not an excuse to barely describe anything!

I wanted to like Evar, but in the end, his situation was more compelling than who he was as a person. That’s because he’s a walking case study in why tragic backstories don’t automatically make a character fleshed-out. We know all about how he’s been trying to claw his way out of the catacombs of The Library and has been hunted by monsters who have killed his parents and many of his siblings…but we know nothing else other than that. Aside from an implied resilience on the virtue of him being able to survive being trapped in a monster-filled maze beneath a library, I know nothing about this kid. We are given exactly zero hints about his personality. I felt pity for him because of his circumstances, but I put down this book knowing nothing about what makes him tick, other than a vague semblance of revenge. I don’t know why he speaks the way he does, I don’t know his habits, I don’t know how he interacts with the world. I wanted to know him! His relationships were solely defined by their proximity to other people (many of whom were dead). By the time he finally met Livira, I couldn’t care less about how they would interact—mostly because Livira got sucked into some Library portal right before anything of significance could happen. 250 pages, about a third of which were devoted to Evar, and I just could not care less.

Now, for why I picked up The Book That Wouldn’t Burn in the first place…The Library. Again, this could be a consequence of me not reading enough of the book, but I think there’s merit in saying that there’s not nearly enough focus on what’s actually interesting about it for the first half of the novel. After the initial revelations that a) Livira now has access to a library the size of a city with archives spanning thousands of years and b) that there are people trapped in a monster-filled maze beneath it, we get…nothing else. There’s much more focus on Livira’s education in The Library, mainly because when she comes there, she does not know how to read or write. That wouldn’t be a bad thing if it weren’t for the fact that these scenes are repetitive to a fault. Remember what I said about this book potentially benefitting from some hedge trimming? This is precisely where I would slim down the page count. I don’t ascribe to the belief that every little thing has to advance the plot, but you’ve got to have something to keep the reader’s interest—it felt like the same cycle of Livira reading, writing, and getting teased by the apprentices. Rinse and repeat for approximately 100 pages. Now do you see why I quit?

The lesson of The Book That Wouldn’t Burn is that you can’t hold a book afloat on a concept alone. I wanted to like the premise so much—what’s not to like about a massive, age-old library that’s larger than a city and holds unknowable horrors beneath it? But the scaffolding necessary to keep me interested was flimsy at best. Lawrence’s writing had moments of being clever, but that, along with the shaky bits of information about the library, were not enough to hold my interest. 1.5 stars, because it wasn’t all bad, but I was so painfully bored by a book with a fascinating premise, which is truly a crime.

The Book That Wouldn’t Burn is the first novel in The Library trilogy, followed by The Book That Broke the World and The Book That Held Her Heart. Mark Lawrence is also the author of several fantasy series, including The Broken Empire trilogy (Prince of Thorns, King of Thorns, and Emperor of Thorns), The Red Queen’s War trilogy (Prince of Fools, The Liar’s Key, and The Wheel of Osheim), and many more.

Today’s song:

saw the magnetic fields for the 69 Love Songs anniversary tour over the weekend—what an incredible show!!

That’s it for this week’s Book Review Tuesday! Have a wonderful rest of your day, and take care of yourselves!

Posted in Book Review Tuesday

Book Review Tuesday (1/16/24) – Godkiller

Happy Tuesday, bibliophiles!

Godkiller has been out for almost a year now, and it’s been on my radar since last December. Fantasy is second to sci-fi for me, especially where high fantasy like this is concerned, but the compelling characters and the lush, queer-normative world drew me in. Sure would be a shame if the second book wasn’t out yet…oh.

Enjoy this week’s review!

Godkiller (Fallen Gods, #1) – Hannah Kaner

In the kingdom of Middren, the worship or belief in gods of any kind is strictly forbidden. The gods of Middren grow bigger and stronger with every human that believes in them, but after a devastating war between the gods and humankind, Middren has deemed them too dangerous to continue living. In the aftermath, the last gods are hunted down by Godkillers. Kissen is a Godkiller; after her family was slaughtered by a fire god, she has taken up the mantle to ensure that what happened to her family never happens to anyone again. But when she stumbles upon Inara, a noble-born child with a minor god bonded to her, she knows that the only way to break the bond without killing her is to go to Blenraden, the last stronghold of the wild gods. The road ahead will be filled with unexpected allies and strange turns, but Kissen and Inara are weary. For a war is brewing once more, and they may be caught in the middle…

TW/CW: loss of loved ones (on- and off-page), fire, blood, violence, animal death, child death, sacrifice (human/animal), war themes, PTSD

It’s incredibly rare that I enjoy any kind of high fantasy these days, especially with the vaguely European setting and medieval technology level. But Hannah Kaner has managed to elevate all of those elements and create something truly special—a queer-normative high fantasy with no trouble being itself in a sea of carbon copies. I thoroughly enjoyed this one!

I’m all for a good trope subversion, and this presents an especially delicious one that even I’m aspiring to add into my own writing. I’ve seen a ton of posts/general discourse about how a lot of creators have shied away from making female characters that match common archetypes, but since many of the archetype’s traits are seen as more masculine, it’s almost entirely male characters that end up making up the demographic. In this case, you have the hardened warrior-type who reluctantly ends up taking a child under their wing who eventually melts their cold heart. It’s a trope I’ve always loved, but I’ve rarely seen it done with female characters. Along comes Kissen, and I’m reminded of how excellent the trope can be when it’s done exceptionally well. She has the classic personality of the archetype, but done in a way that makes her character feel fleshed out—she isn’t just hardened for the heck of it, and you get to see exactly how and why she became that way. Her interactions with Inara, from the initial reluctance (which, again, is developed more than “I don’t need a child around”) to her motherly role towards the end, felt tenderly genuine, and watching their relationship develop was one of the highlights of the book.

You know me. I’m all for queer-normative and disability-friendly sci-fi and fantasy worlds, but Godkiller feels so special precisely because of how high fantasy has historically treated both of those things. For disabled characters in particular, it’s practically an expectation that they have to be bitter and constantly in a state of suffering because being in a medieval setting where their disability is minimally understood automatically makes them a weakling. But Godkiller flips that entirely on its head—not only is the main character disabled (facial scars and a prosthetic leg), but it isn’t a main part of the plot; never do we see Kissen suffering for the plot because she’s disabled, and her disability is seen as something neutral, and something to be cared for accordingly. (There is some discussion about the discrimination that Kissen faces because of her scars, but it’s more on the front of being marked by a curse and not necessarily the scars themselves.) One of the side characters is also Deaf, and not only was she one of my favorite side characters, her scenes were explicitly shown so that the reader could see how happy she was with her wife! The fictional sign language was also treated in a similarly neutral/positive way—there’s even a bit of worldbuilding where Kaner explains that sign language isn’t just used by Deaf or mute people in Middren, but it’s used by pirates on the high seas to communicate when the roar of the ocean drowns out speech. 10/10 worldbuilding. 10/10 disabled representation, and 10/10 disabled people in happy relationships.

The god-killing premise was also one of the main draws for me about Godkiller, hence the name. It could have been easy for a book like this to ride on the premise being interesting and then proceed to do hardly anything out of the ordinary to it, but Kaner’s worldbuilding surrounding the gods of Middren was excellent! Every kind of god is explained, and I loved the wide variety of gods that we saw throughout the novel, from the more formidable ones that caused the war to minor gods like Skediceth, who were just little creatures with surprisingly formidable powers. I also loved the concept of gods tangibly feeding off of belief—the more shrines there are, the more powerful a god continues to be. Not only did this flesh out the worldbuilding, but it made a lot of elements that would have otherwise been forgettable contribute to the overall stakes of the novel.

My only major complaint about Godkiller was the ending. The pacing was solid for most of the novel, but the ending felt so much more rushed compared to the rest of it. The stakes got milder for a significant stretch, but it only felt like they were amped up in the last 5-10 pages just so that Kaner could tie in a thread to the sequel and remind the reader that Godkiller wasn’t a standalone. It was one of those endings that had me turning back to the last page and then back to the acknowledgements and wondering “wait, that it was it? that was the ending?” For how cleverly most of the novel was constructed, it just felt so sudden and sloppy compared to the rest of it.

All in all, one of the better high fantasy novels I’ve read in a while, with lovable characters, a refreshingly disability-friendly world, and neat, fascinating worldbuilding. 4 stars!

Godkiller is the first novel in the Fallen Gods series, followed by Sunbringer, which is slated for release this March. Godkiller is Hannah Kaner’s debut novel.

Today’s song:

That’s it for this week’s Book Review Tuesday! Have a wonderful rest of your day, and take care of yourselves!

Posted in Book Review Tuesday

Book Review Tuesday (10/3/23) – Under the Earth, Over the Sky

Happy Tuesday, bibliophiles!

I swear it’s entirely a coincidence that I’m reviewing two books that have titles separated by commas with the word “sky” somewhere in them (The other would be Deep as the Sky, Red as the Sea). They’re entirely different books, but I’m glad to say that they’re equally excellent. Under the Earth, Over the Sky gives fantasy a tenderness that it’s desperately needed for years, and I am all the better for reading it.

Enjoy this week’s review!

Under the Earth, Over the Sky – Emily McCosh

Iohmar does not meddle in the affairs of the human world. He is above such things, being an ancient fae king older than human civilization itself. But when he finds an abandoned, dying baby in the borderlands between the human world and his kingdom, he takes it upon himself to raise him as his own. He names his human son Lorcan, and he takes him back to live in the fae kingdom. But Iohmar’s ancient magic has begun to wane, and with threats encroaching into his kingdom, he must do whatever it takes to protect baby Lor and the rest of his subjects.

TW/CW: past mentions of abuse/loss of a loved one, abandonment of a child, nightmares, child endangerment

I’m so sick and tired of grimdark, man. I’ll save my rant about it for another day, but I just feel like it’s a blight on fantasy, and on any genre where it’s applicable. (Life is full of joy and beauty! They can never take your joyous whimsy!) That’s why this book feels so necessary. Under the Earth, Over the Sky really did heal my soul. It may not be without its flaws, but it’s such a deeply moving and poignant tale of love beyond boundaries and parenthood.

For the past few years, I’ve found myself drifting away from most kinds of high and epic fantasy; at their very worst, they’ve just felt like the same plots coughed up over and over, but with far heftier of a page count than is necessary. But Under the Earth, Over the Sky feels like the best kind of subversion of all of the self-serious, high-and-mighty tropes that have turned me off from a fair portion of the genre. How do you make your haughty, ancient king of the fae with the wisdom of a thousand moons a genuinely compelling character? Simple: make him raise a baby. The synopsis already made this book sound endearing, but I couldn’t have predicted how much of a warm bath to the soul that this book would really be.

Of course, the dynamic between Iohmar and his adopted son was where Under the Earth, Over the Sky shone the brightest. Watching Iohmar’s cold heart slowly melt as he began to care for Lor was truly a joy, and Emily McCosh portrayed all of the ups and downs of their father-son relationship so poignantly. He was such a compelling character beyond his dynamic with Lor as well; McCosh also did an excellent job of making his life and relationships genuinely complicated, making him feel truly fleshed-out and making some of the stakes seem more real. Every part of his raising Lor tugged at my heartstrings, from the moment he realizes that he has to care for this baby, to grappling with the fact that his appearance frightens his own son. Not to praise the plague that is the Disney live-action remakes, this novel reminded me of the only good one—the dynamic between Angelina Jolie’s Maleficent and baby Aurora was similarly sweet. The fact that it’s a father-son relationship also feels so important—having a male character showing such vulnerability and care is something that we need more of, certainly.

Most of the other character interactions were similarly comforting and cozy. I especially loved the dynamic between Iohmar and his wife Rúnda; they were so quietly devoted to each other, and their gentle love fueled the already heartwarming feel of this novel. The interactions between Iohmar and the humans he encounters along the way were similarly poignant. Not only did they serve to drive home the rift between Lor’s human and adopted fae identities, Iohmar’s subtle changes in how he dealt with humans was so tender and indicative of his shifting character. Strangely, even though there weren’t as many characters, subtle interactions like these were what made the world feel lived-in—it didn’t take a lot for this world to feel populated, which helped immensely with my feeling of immersion.

However, as well fleshed-out as many aspects of Under the Earth, Over the Sky were, the subplots surrounding the main plot felt rather rushed. Although the stakes of Iohmar’s magic rotting were clear and tangible, the aspect of the rippling felt like it barely held any weight. They weren’t as well established at the start of the novel, and that lack of immersion felt like none of it was really serious—it really did feel like an afterthought. That part was resolved in a similarly messy way, but at least it got somewhat neatly swept under the rug. It was an interesting enough concept, but a lack of context and fleshing-out made it feel almost meaningless.

All in all, a refreshingly cozy and tender story of parental love and changes of heart. 4 stars!

Under the Earth, Over the Sky is a standalone, but Emily McCosh is also the author of All the Woods She Watches Over, an anthology of short stories and poetry, and the ongoing In Dying Starlight series.

Today’s song:

live laugh Lisa Germano

That’s it for this week’s Book Review Tuesday! Have a wonderful rest of your day, and take care of yourselves!

Posted in Book Review Tuesday

Book Review Tuesday (4/18/23) – The Spear Cuts Through Water

Happy Tuesday, bibliophiles!

I was in a fantasy mood recently, so I decided to pick up The Spear Cuts Through Water after hearing some rave reviews from other bloggers. The gorgeous cover only added to the sell. But in the end, this novel ended up being a major disappointment—a murky, 500+ page slog that was only enjoyable for fleeting moments. I really need to stop setting myself up for disappointment with all these overly long high fantasy books…

Enjoy this week’s review!

The Spear Cuts Through Water – Simon Jimenez

The Emperor of the Moon Throne has terrorized the land of the Strangled Throat for centuries, aided by his three reckless sons, aptly dubbed The Terrors. But like everything else that he has seized, the Emperor’s power comes from an age-old moon god who has been locked under the palace against her will. But a god is not meant to be kept in captivity.

So she escapes. Aided by Jun, a disgraced palace guard, and Keema, a warrior from a distant, mysterious land, she sets off on a journey to find her freedom. But the Moon Throne will not let go of her so easily…

TW/CW: ableism, cannibalism, child abuse, murder, body horror, substance abuse, mentions of sexual assault (off-page), torture, loss of loved ones

This is one of those instances where I feel like I’ve read a completely different book than all of the 5-star reviewers. I really wanted to like it—and there were a few things that I did like—but ultimately, it felt like a 20-minute prog-rock song in book form: well-written, but so unneccesarily convoluted and full of itself that it became insufferable.

Before I go on my tirade, I will acknowledge that there were some wonderful, very bold and skilled parts of this novel. Jimenez’s writing had moments of being both beautiful and insightful—there were a few anchors to pull me through the slog, and his prose had moments of being incredible. 2nd person is always a bold choice, but unlike other aspects of this novel, it was executed very well, succeeding at being both immersive and fresh without feeling like it was bold just for the sake of being so.

“Bold” is generally I word that I could ascribe to most of this book. A lot of it was written in a fresh, nontraditional way, and I appreciated its execution in some sections. But a lot of it just felt like showing off—having unconventional chapter breaks and an infuriating structure just for Jimenez to show that he was capable of doing so. Most of these ended up being to the novel’s detriment. The random “chapter” breaks (there really weren’t any chapters in this book?), which mostly just ended up being sized-up font that was, essentially, what should have just the first sentence of the paragraph. And since they were all just first sentences of the paragraph, there were 2-3 of these breaks per page. POVs got switched without warning and without explanation, making the reading experience overcomplicated where it could’ve been an easy fix. It just felt like it was biting itself in the foot in the name of art—it could have been a beautiful story, if it wasn’t so intent on showing off how “different” it was.

As a result, so much of this novel got lost. Even though I was fairly lost trying to discern whose POV is it this time, I did notice one thing while reading The Spear Cuts Through Water—where’d the worldbuilding go? Other than the vague notion of a fantasy world (gods and goddesses, some talking animals/spirits, etc.), I had no idea of the layout of the world, the regions of the world, any kind of cultural cues or conventions, any kind of magic system…it just wasn’t there. At all. The same goes for the characters—they were all but cardboard, moved around like pawns for seemingly no reason. (I get that they were under oath by the Moon God, but the point still stands. They didn’t need to be that stiff.) Other than the reveal about Keema, nothing compelled me about either of them, or any of the other passing side characters. This novel was just so intent on chasing itself in circles that it forgot the essential elements that a novel needs.

All in all, a fantasy with great potential, but that ended up losing itself under layers of attempts to be daring and new. 2 stars.

The Spear Cuts Through Water is a standalone, but Simon Jimenez is also the author of The Vanished Birds.

Today’s song:

LOVE this album, this feels like a perfect match for “There’s No Other Way”

That’s it for this week’s Book Review Tuesday! Have a wonderful rest of your day, and take care of yourselves!

Posted in Book Review Tuesday

Book Review Tuesday (11/8/22) – Huntress (Ash, #0.5)

Happy Tuesday, bibliophiles!

Huntress is one of those books that just sat on my TBR collecting dust for several years. I decided to read it after finishing Ash a few years back, and I finally was able to get my hands on a copy from the university library. After remembering liking Ash, my expectations were average, and I was rewarded with a solid, strong fairytale full of darkness in unexpected places.

Huntress is technically a prequel, but it doesn’t necessarily require reading Ash beforehand, as its set in the same world, but hundreds of years earlier (you should read it anyway, though!). If you’d like to read my review of Ash, click here!

Enjoy this week’s review!

Huntress (Ash, #0.5) – Malinda Lo

Kaede and Taisin have been chosen for an insurmountable task: restoring order to the human world. For years, the sun hasn’t shone, the crops have dried up, and strange creatures have begun to breach the boundaries of human and otherworldly. The only way for them to seek answers is through the mysterious Fairy Queen, but the journey there may be more dangerous than what lies at the end. But as members of their party begin to die off, Kaede and Taisin must grapple with their futures—the future of the human world, and of the feelings they’re having for each other.

TW/CW: blood, fantasy violence, death, descriptions of injuries/corpses

“I don’t want to marry the man you arranged for me to marry because I don’t know him and I want to have control over my life”: good, good

“I don’t want to marry the man you arranged for me to marry because I don’t know him, I want to have control over my life, and also I’m a lesbian”: EVEN BETTER

It’s been a few years since I’ve read Ash, but reading Huntress doesn’t necessarily require a whole lot of knowledge of Ash‘s world to understand it. What remains, however, is that you have to remember that it was some of the first of its kind. Nowadays, YA is dominated by fairytale-inspired and fairytale retellings, some of which are queer, but stories like Ash and this companion were some of the first ones to do so—and some of the first to be openly queer. If you remember that (and if you can get past the painfully dated cover), you’re in for a fun ride—a dark and atmospheric piece of high fantasy filled with all sorts of danger and strange creatures.

Lo’s world is pretty distinctly High Fantasy™️, which I’ve been jaded with as of late, but her unique spin on it was enough to create a captivating world. Although the magic system was a little hazy, Lo’s descriptions of the barren landscape and treacherous forests created a world that felt real enough to step into. Even more captivating were the creatures that inhabited this world—everything from unicorns to horrifying changelings; the mythology around them and the stakes they created propelled the story even more. Plus, it’s always refreshing to have non-European inspiration for a high fantasy novel; in the author’s note, Lo explains that most of the book was inspired by both Chinese and Japanese mythology.

What I remember about Ash was how much I loved the main couple, but with Huntress, that was a little bit less of the case. In fact, I found Kaede and Taisin to be almost interchangeable (accentuated by the sporadic POV changes), but still compelling enough to root for. Most of the other characters were rather underdeveloped and forgettable, but Lo has a grim solution for the problem—killing them off. For me, it was Con who stole the show; he was the only character with a distinct personality, and it was a very lovable one at that. He’s the kind of character who probably would’ve been lumped in as the love interest in any other YA book, but having him as a platonic friend was so much more endearing.

Even though I loved Lo’s worldbuilding, I still wish that more was explored; we only got tidbits of the creatures in the Fairy Queen’s kingdom, and especially since the main villain was introduced so late in the book, I wished that we’d spent less time on the road and more time near the destination. The journey was interesting, sure, but it would’ve been more interesting to explore the more alien, unfamiliar corners of the world Lo created.

All in all, a solid piece of fantasy that made good use of its dark, barren atmosphere, but could’ve pushed it even further. 3.5 stars!

Huntress is a prequel to Ash, and they are the only books set in that universe. Malinda Lo is also the author of Last Night at the Telegraph Club, the Adaptation duology (consisting of Adaptation and Inheritance), and several other books for teens and adults.

Today’s song:

found this and “Metal Mickey” in a video somebody made of a medley of Britpop riffs, and…maybe I should check them out now?

That’s it for this week’s Book Review Tuesday! Have a wonderful rest of your day, and take care of yourselves!

Posted in Books

Start ‘Em Young: YA Books to Transition Younger Teen Readers into YA Literature

Happy Monday, bibliophiles!

I’ve been an avid reader from a young age. I read voraciously throughout my pre-teen years, but as I got older, I began reading “older” books—I had been introduced into the wonderful world of YA literature. But it wasn’t quite as smooth as I thought; although young adult books generally encompass a teenage experience, there can often be a wide range of content. While some YA books are lighter and more suitable for younger teens, many range into the “older” teen spectrum that often deals with heavier and more mature subject matter. For me, at least, I think it’s good to have “transition” books for younger YA readers—books that are distinctly “teen,” but aren’t quite as graphic for someone who isn’t mature enough to handle certain topics. I’m doing my best not to make generalizations about the maturity of younger teenagers here, since I was one not so long ago, but I feel like it’s not the best idea to start an 11 or 12 year old on something as dark as Six of Crows or Illuminae. So for those reasons, I’ve decided to compile some books that I think would be great to introduce younger readers to the wide world of YA literature.

Let’s begin, shall we?

📖BOOKS TO TRANSITION YOUNGER TEEN READERS INTO YA 📖

Sorcery of Thorns – Margaret Rogerson

GENRES: fantasy, high fantasy, romance

Sorcery of Thorns had the feel of a lot of middle-grade fantasy novels—not enough magical libraries in YA literature, such a shame 😤

For me, this novel had the perfect balance of whimsy and complexity, and presented a beautiful fantasy world full of magical books and demons!

The Kingdom of Back – Marie Lu

GENRES: historical fiction, fantasy, magical realism

Marie Lu’s books tend to stray on the darker side, but The Kingdom of Back is the perfect standalone for any reader to get into her books. This one is a favorite of mine—such a beautifully-crafted fairytale!

Sisters of the Wolf – Patricia Miller-Schroeder

GENRES: historical fiction

Sisters of the Wolf wasn’t my favorite book, but part of what stood out to me about it (apart from the amazing research that went into the prehistoric setting) was that it hit the perfect balance between middle grade and YA—it’s dark enough to be separated from middle grade, but still palatable for a younger reader transitioning between the age groups.

The Soul Keepers – Devon Taylor

GENRES: fantasy, paranormal, horror

Like Sisters of the Wolf, The Soul Keepers is the perfect bridge between middle grade and YA; even though most of the characters are written as older teens, the level of dark elements struck the perfect balance between younger and older teen readers.

Curses – Lish McBride

GENRES: fantasy, retellings, romance

Nothing like a good fairytale retelling to introduce a reader to YA! Lish McBride’s sense of humor never fails to make me smile, and Curses was a continuously clever and hilarious retelling of Beauty and the Beast. If there’s any Beauty and the Beast retelling to start a reader on, it’s this one.

The Tiger at Midnight – Swati Teerdhala

GENRES: fantasy, high fantasy, romance

The Tiger at Midnight has all of the elements of a classic YA fantasy book, and it’s the perfect choice for introducing a reader into the vast world of YA fantasy! I don’t know why I haven’t picked up the next few books—book 1 was a lot of fun!

Geekerella – Ashley Poston

GENRES: fiction, romance, rom-com

For a reader who wants to jump into romance, the Once Upon a Con series is a perfect starter! Plus, what’s not to love about comic cons, books, and tons of pop culture references?

Once & Future – A.R. Capetta and Cory McCarthy

GENRES: LGBTQ+, science fiction, retellings, romance

Speaking of retellings…here’s one for readers who are keen on Arthurian legends! Once & Future presents one of the most inventive Arthurian legends I’ve read in a while—space, corporations, curses, and more! It’s wonderfully queer all around as well.

The Light at the Bottom of the World – London Shah

GENRES: dystopia, science fiction, romance

There are a lot—and I mean a lot—of astoundingly mediocre and ridiculous YA dystopias that tried to jump on the Hunger Games train, so why not start off a reader with something that’s genuinely fun and inventive? The Light at the Bottom of the World is a stand-out, action-packed and creative, with a determined protagonist that you can’t help but root for!

I Love You So Mochi – Sarah Kuhn

GENRES: fiction, romance

Here’s another light and sweet romance! I Love You So Mochi is the perfect feel-good romance, and it doubles as a spectacular coming-of-age story about finding your passion and your place.

TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK! What are some other books that you’d recommend for younger teens who are just starting to read YA? Have you read any of these books, and if so, what did you think of them? Tell me in the comments!

Today’s song:

this is such a fun album!! not a bad song here

That’s it for this post! Have a wonderful rest of your day, and take care of yourselves!

Posted in Goodreads Monday

Goodreads Monday (9/20/21) – Daughter of the Burning City

Happy Monday, bibliophiles!

Goodreads Monday is a weekly meme created by Lauren’s Page Turners. All you have to do to participate is pick a book from your Goodreads TBR, and explain why you want to read it.

I’ve had this one on my TBR for almost a year and a half, and somehow, I haven’t gotten around to reading it even though it’s available at my library…shame…

But now that I’m re-reading the synopsis, Daughter of the Burning City sounds super twisty and spooky!

Let’s begin, shall we?

GOODREADS MONDAY (9/20/21) – DAUGHTER OF THE BURNING CITY by Amanda Foody

Amazon.com: Daughter of the Burning City: Foody, Amanda: Books

Blurb from Goodreads:

Sixteen-year-old Sorina has spent most of her life within the smoldering borders of the Gomorrah Festival. Yet even among the many unusual members of the traveling circus-city, Sorina stands apart as the only illusion-worker born in hundreds of years. This rare talent allows her to create illusions that others can see, feel and touch, with personalities all their own. Her creations are her family, and together they make up the cast of the Festival’s Freak Show.

But no matter how lifelike they may seem, her illusions are still just that—illusions, and not truly real. Or so she always believed…until one of them is murdered.

Desperate to protect her family, Sorina must track down the culprit and determine how they killed a person who doesn’t actually exist. Her search for answers leads her to the self-proclaimed gossip-worker Luca, and their investigation sends them through a haze of political turmoil and forbidden romance, and into the most sinister corners of the Festival. But as the killer continues murdering Sorina’s illusions one by one, she must unravel the horrifying truth before all of her loved ones disappear.

So why do I want to read this?

fashion & beauty GIFs - Primo GIF - Latest Animated GIFs

Circus books always catch my eye, but a high fantasy circus book? Now that’s something that hooks me in.

What hooks me in even more is the prospect of Sorina and her illusions–I’m intrigued by the idea of a murder mystery for somebody that doesn’t technically exist! It’s such an original idea, and I’m excited to see how Amanda Foody executes it.

Plus, it looks like there’s lots of LGBTQ+ rep in Daughter of the Burning City! Sorina is bisexual, and Luca (apparently one of the other main characters) is demiromantic and asexual! I’m always up for casual queer representation in non-realistic-fiction settings, and I’m so excited to see how this one turns out!

mooonlightdriive | Carnival rides, Carousel horses, Carousel

Today’s song:

26 Smothables – Jim Noir (Bandcamp)

That’s it for this week’s Goodreads Monday! Have a wonderful rest of your day, and take care of yourselves!

Posted in Books

Feminist YA Books for Women’s History Month

Happy Thursday, bibliophiles!

I meant to post this earlier in the month, but, alas, school. But hey – March isn’t over yet, is it? And here in the U.S., March is Women’s History Month! So for the occasion, I’ve compiled a list of some of my favorite YA novels with feminist themes not just for March, but for all year round, because we should all be uplifting the voices of women every day of every year.

Let’s begin, shall we?

Celebrate Women's History Month with Talenthouse

FEMINIST YA BOOKS FOR WOMEN’S HISTORY MONTH

Once & Future, A.R. Capetta and Cori McCarthy

Once & Future: Amy Rose Capetta, Cori McCarthy: 9781786076540: Amazon.com:  Books

GENRES: Sci-fi, romance, LGBTQ+, retellings

MY RATING: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

I mean, how could the premise of an Arthurian retelling where the reincarnation of King Arthur is a POC, pansexual woman not hook you? Plus, lots of dismantling imperialism, sword fights, and an almost entirely queer cast.

Moxie, Jennifer Mathieu

Amazon.com: Moxie: A Novel (9781626726352): Mathieu, Jennifer: Books

GENRES: Contemporary, fiction, romance

MY RATING: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Can I rant for a minute? I loved this book to death, but the Netflix adaptation of it looks AWFUL. I watched the trailer, and it looks like it COMPLETELY misconstrued the message of the book. The movie makes feminism look like a joke; in the book, Viv was already conscious of the toxic environment of her high school, but in the movie, they (unintentionally?) painted feminism as something that was “trendy” or “what the kids are into.” (In the beginning of the trailer, Viv magically has this feminist awakening from seeing her mom’s old Riot Grrl pictures…) Also in the trailer, she only starts to notice the rampant sexism in her high school AFTER SOMEBODY TELLS HER…

[fumes] okay I’ll stop now but Y I K E S

just stick to the book, okay?

How Rory Thorne Destroyed the Multiverse, K. Eason

Amazon.com: How Rory Thorne Destroyed the Multiverse: Book One of the Thorne  Chronicles eBook: Eason, K.: Kindle Store

GENRES: Sci-fi, fantasy

MY RATING: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Okay, I know this has been shelved as both adult and YA, but…hey, Rory’s 15 for most of the book, so I think I can slip it in this post. Plus, what’s not to love about disobedient, patriarchy-smashing princesses in space?

Sawkill Girls, Claire Legrand

Amazon.com: Sawkill Girls (9780062696601): Legrand, Claire: Books

GENRES: Horror, paranormal, fantasy, LGBTQ+

MY RATING: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Claire Legrand was a hit-or-miss author for me up until I read this one, but Sawkill Girls is such a powerful novel, both in its paranormal intensity and its resonant themes of sisterhood.

Girls of Paper and Fire, Natasha Ngan

Girls of Paper and Fire (Girls of Paper and Fire Series #1) by Natasha  Ngan, Paperback | Barnes & Noble®

GENRES: High fantasy, romance, LGBTQ+

MY RATING: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

As disappointing as the sequel was, Girls of Paper and Fire still remains a book that stunned me like no other. A powerful tale of rebelling against oppression and corruption – and some lovely forbidden romance!

The Black Coats, Colleen Oakes

Amazon.com: The Black Coats (9780062679628): Oakes, Colleen: Books

GENRES: Contemporary, fiction, mystery, romance

MY RATING: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️.25

A super twisty and inventive novel with plenty of morally grey characters and secret societies. Plus, it raises some great points about vigilante justice. And there’s nothing better than getting back at misogynists and rapists, right?

The Sound of Stars, Alechia Dow

Amazon.com: The Sound of Stars (9781335911551): Dow, Alechia: Books

GENRES: Sci-fi, dystopian, LGBTQ+, romance

MY RATING: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️.75, rounded up to ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Every time I look back at this book, I think something along the lines of “man, I’m so glad I bought this.” Secret libraries, alien invasion, quality music references, cross-country road trips, and more than a little bit of resistance. Very nearly flawless!

Music from Another World, Robin Talley

Amazon.com: Music from Another World (9781335146779): Talley, Robin: Books

GENRES: Historical fiction, romance, LGBTQ+

MY RATING: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

A beautiful romance set against the backdrop of protest and resisting homophobia in 1977 San Francisco. There’s lovely representation for both lesbian and bisexual characters, and it’s such a tender and resonant read!

TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK! Have you read any of these novels, and if so, did you like them? What are your favorite feminist YA reads?

Women's History Month

And while I’m at it, might I direct you all to the Women’s History Book Tag? It was created by Margaret @ Weird Zeal, and I had such a blast doing it last March, and I figured I should direct it to your attention. 🙂

Today’s song:

The way this song reminds me of the very beginning of quarantine now –

That’s it for this post! Have a wonderful rest of your day, and take care of yourselves!