Tag: Sapphic

Posted in Book Review Tuesday

Book Review Tuesday (7/18/23) – So Lucky

Posted on by madeline @ The Bookish Mutant

Happy Tuesday, bibliophiles!

I came upon this book after poring through the “further reading” section of Alice Wong’s incredible Disability Visibility anthology (which you should also go read!!), and I put it on hold at the library soon after I heard about it. I was completely unfamiliar with Nicola Griffith before reading this novella, but she delivered so much power and resonance in the span of only 180 pages. We’re barely halfway through the year, but I know that I’ve got another favorite read of this year.

Enjoy this week’s review!

So Lucky – Nicola Griffith

Mara Tagarelli has it all. Happily married and the head of a multimillion dollar AIDS foundation, she lives a life of contentment and security. But in the span of days, Mara is diagnosed with MS, and her wife leaves her soon after. Her colleagues now dismiss her needs, and she’s left without work, without the care she needs, and without any prospects for the future. But as she slowly begins to find a community, she realizes the power that she holds—to put those she values in danger, but to give them the justice that they deserve.

TW/CW: ableism, hate crimes, murder, medical mistreatment, misogyny

I finished this book several days ago, but I’m still positively reeling from the effect it had on me. I picked it up after seeing it included as a recommendation in the “further reading” section of Alice Wong’s Disability Visibility, thinking it would be something good to read during Disability Pride Month. What I found was something far more than just “something good to read”—it was wholly refreshing, resonant, and both heartbreaking and heartwarming. So Lucky wasn’t a novel that I expected to hit me so hard, but it did, and I am forever grateful for it.

I’ve never been more in love with such an angry character, to be honest. Griffith’s writing of Mara felt more than authentic, a character that climbed out of the page, demanding to have her voice heard. And although her anger is her primary character trait, it’s an anger that resonated with me like nothing has before; in a landscape where disabled women, both fictional and real, are expected to be demure and sadly accepting of their fate (but in a sexy way, of course, because they obviously only exist as objects of pleasure for men), having a character as fiery and determined as Mara very nearly made me cry. I don’t have MS, but I am a disabled reader, so watching Mara express her anger at her treatment, at her life, and at the world around her was more than I could have asked for. More disabled women who aren’t conventionally likable and are written authentically, please! Use this novella as a guide.

So Lucky is a hard read—it doesn’t pull any punches, and that’s exactly how it should have been. It displays a lot of some of the more harsh realities of being disabled, especially being physically disabled: dismissal by your colleagues, mistreatment at work (and eventually being fired because of said diagnosis), relationship turmoil, medical mistreatment, and disability-motivated hate crimes are all a part of the narrative that Griffith portrays. It’s visceral and heartbreaking, and it doesn’t hold back in the slightest. But never once did it feel amped up for tension, or unnecessarily exaggerated: this is the story of an angry woman, and the story of a system built on bringing her down, as well as others like her. It really represents a good portion of the spectrum of issues that disabled people, especially disabled women, face, and Nicola Griffith captured all of it with incredible aplomb.

Despite that, So Lucky never falls into hopelessness. Even though Mara faces hardships aplenty, it never portrays the disabled experience as defined solely by tragedy and suffering. In spite of it all, there is always hope: Mara finding an online community of other disabled people, taking care of her cat (shoutout to Rip), and coming to the realization that her anger was never from the MS itself: it was from the experience of living in a world that did not want her to succeed. At its heart, So Lucky is an incredibly raw story, but a fearlessly hopeful story, one where our protagonist knows that her anger doesn’t come from being disabled, but from existing in a world where disabled people are treated so poorly. And that anger only adds to her determination to continue to fight for a better, more accessible world. There is no disability to inspirationally overcome, only a system. I can’t think of much that’s more beautiful than that.

All in all, a short novella that packs a deeply impactful punch, and portrays disabled womanhood in a refreshing light. 5 stars!

So Lucky is a standalone, but Nicola Griffith is also the author of Ammonite, Hild, Cold Wind, Slow River, and many other books for adults spanning several genres.

Today’s song:

never in my life would I have anticipated liking a Weezer song THIS much, but you can blame Snail Mail for this one

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

Posted in Uncategorized

🏳️‍⚧️ LGBTQ+ Historical Icons Book Tag 🏳️‍🌈

Posted on by madeline @ The Bookish Mutant

Happy Wednesday, bibliophiles!

I’ve had a few pride-related book tags that I’ve been waiting to do since last June, so I figured I’d break this one out right about now. I found this one over at The Corner of Laura, who also created the tag.

Rules

  • Link back to the original creator (The Corner of Laura) and link back to this page (otherwise, the original creator won’t get a notification).
  • Thank whoever tagged you and link back to their post
  • (Optional) Use the graphics and don’t forget to credit the original creator (Text prompts are at the end of the tag if you’d prefer to use those)
  • (Optional) Tag 5 or more other people.

Let’s begin, shall we?

🏳️‍🌈THE LGBTQ+ HISTORICAL ICONS BOOK TAG🏳️‍⚧️

SAPPHO: Greek poet known for her lyric poetry which is believed to describe homoerotic feeling | A book of poetry (or written in verse)

Nothing Burns as Bright as You is a beautiful novel in verse about the complicated relationship shared by two Black queer girls.

ALAN TURING: Mathematician known for cracking the Enigma code but who was persecuted for his homosexuality | A character who deserved better

As sweet as The Girl from the Sea was, I found myself getting so stressed out about how Morgan treated Keltie in the beginning. She just kept pushing her around and neglecting her, and while it did resolve itself neatly and they fell in love, I still felt so bad for Keltie. She’s just an adorable creature, dude, she doesn’t need all that human baggage…

GILBERT BAKER: Creator of the rainbow Pride Flag | The most colorful book you own

Skyhunter has one of my favorite book covers in my collection—it dazzles me every single time I look at it!

ANNE LISTER: Landowner, industrialist and considered to be the first modern lesbian | A book written as a diary (or includes diary entries)

I have fond memories of reading the copy of I Capture the Castle that my mom bought for me while I was out sick years ago, and re-reading it several times since. It’s seriously the sweetest, most charming book—a big thank you to my mom for turning me on to this one.

MARSHA P. JOHNSON: Prominent figure in the Stonewall Uprising and founder of several LGBTQ rights organisations | A character you’d would want fighting at your side

Sona and Eris from Gearbreakers are both formidable in their own ways—either one (or both) would be an easy pick to have fight at my side.

ALFRED KINSEY: Creator of the Kinsey scale | A book set in academia

I haven’t read a whole lot of books sets in academia (and I’ve never gotten the hype for dark academia, so I tend to steer clear of those), but Leigh Bardugo never misses, so obviously this prompt has to go to Ninth House.

LUCY HICKS ANDERSON: First trans woman to defend her identity in court | A book where a major scene takes place in court

It was so hard to think of any books besides To Kill a Mockingbird (Laura’s answer) with a courtroom scene, but I read Meru not long ago, and it has a particularly climactic and poignant courtroom scene—a futuristic one, but a courtroom scene all the same.

OPEN PROMPT: Your choice | A book that inspires you

Of course, I’m going with David Bowie as my LGBTQ+ historical icon of choice—who else? He’s been a hero of mine for years, and a hero to so many. Even in the 60’s, before he rose to stardom, he was already breaking down barriers, and continued to do so in all aspects of his career thereafter. Calling somebody “ahead of their time” is thrown around quite often, but I really think that the world wasn’t ready—and wouldn’t be ready for today—for Ziggy Stardust. And personally, I can’t think of a better beacon of hope to me than him; I started getting into his music at a time when I was struggling to find my place and looking for a light at the end of the alternative weirdo tunnel. And here was Bowie, wearing dresses in the 70’s, openly declaring his bisexuality, and creating a cosmic persona that touched the hearts of so many people. I’ve certainly felt like an alien all my life, but he, if anyone, is to credit for teaching me to embrace that feeling—to quote him, “oh no, love! You’re not alone.” From one bisexual alien to another: thank you.

As for a book that inspires me, I’d easily give that title to Becky Chambers’ Wayfarers series. Sci-fi always seems defined by cosmic stakes and harrowing violence, and while that can work in moderation, these books really cemented the idea that a narrative doesn’t have to be centered around struggle or suffering to be worth reading—and writing. Here, Chambers has created a vast, creative space opera universe with complex political background noise and dozens of strange creatures, but they’re not embroiled in some lofty, intergalactic conflict: they’re just going about their lives. It’s something that almost no other piece of sci-fi media has ever done—it’s very common in realistic fiction, but the concept that happiness and healing as genuine plot points can exist alongside aliens and starships just blew my mind. I aspire to write at least one thing as comforting and cozy as Becky Chambers someday.

And remember, kids: grimdark is just as unrealistic as sunshine, lollipops and rainbows, because they represent opposite ends of the same literary spectrum. Making a book excessively dark and gritty doesn’t automatically make it deep, and giving a character an excess of trauma and a tragic backstory doesn’t automatically make them fleshed-out and well-written.

I tag:

Today’s song:

we love a good guitar freakout

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

Posted in Uncategorized

Book Review Tuesday (6/6/23) – If Tomorrow Doesn’t Come

Posted on by madeline @ The Bookish Mutant

Happy Tuesday, bibliophiles!

This book came out around a month ago, and I figured it would be a great read to start off pride month (after a very disappointing biography of Josephine Baker). If Tomorrow Doesn’t Come was my first exposure to Jen St. Jude (it’s her debut, after all), but after this, I’m ready to watch for anything else she writes.

Enjoy this week’s review!

If Tomorrow Doesn’t Come – Jen St. Jude

The news has just broken that an asteroid capable of wiping out the population is headed towards Earth in nine days. Avery Byrne had planned to drown herself on her college campus that day—being closeted from her religious parents, the mounting pressure of college, and undiagnosed depression had become too much to bear. But now, she’s forced to flee her college and face her family. Among them is Cass, her best friend and longtime crush, who she’s been hiding the truth from for years. With nine days until the end of the world, Avery must come face to face with everything that she wanted to run from, but must also realize the hope at the end of the world—maybe she finally has time to make things right.

TW/CW: suicide, suicide attempt(s), suicidal ideations, homophobia, religious bigotry, mental health issues (depression), natural disasters/end of the world scenarios (impending asteroid impact)

This is a heavy one. That can’t be understated enough—I always put trigger warnings before my reviews now, but these ones are really important to keep in mind. If Tomorrow Never Comes is a devastating novel—but a deeply important one, as long as you’re in the mental headspace for it.

That being said, one of the best parts about this novel is how Jen St. Jude handles such topics. It would’ve been easy to romanticize or otherwise dramatize Avery’s very real struggles with mental health and queer identity, but everything was handled with such care and grace. It’s clearly a very personal novel; nothing is glossed over, but nothing is overblown to amp up the tension needlessly. We’re very slowly coming out of the post-13 Reasons Why romanticization of suicide and mental health issues, so it’s very important that books like these exist to counteract that—presenting these subjects exactly as they are.

All of the relationships were also done so well in this novel! Each character was crafted with so much care, and the interactions that each one had with the other really made them stand out. The forced reunion of Avery, her friends, and her extended family in the event of the asteroid created so many moments that felt refreshingly human—messy and hard to read at times (part of the ending made me cry, full disclosure), but authentic and genuine. Again—in the face of an onslaught of very dramatic apocalypse-oriented YA in the past, it’s so nice to see one that’s full of emotion, but more in the way of real, interpersonal relationships and not 2012 love triangles in the face of impending doom.

That being said, I did have one major problem with this novel. I liked the format that St. Jude had where the novel was split into Avery’s past and present, but the flashback chapters felt somewhat stilted compared to the present day chapters. They leaned a lot more on telling—giving us information about Avery’s life, friends, and family in a very rote way, as opposed to letting all that bloom naturally. It’s even stranger considering that the present chapters didn’t have this problem at all—maybe it was just some kinks to work out when writing in Avery’s past tense. With all of the heart that this novel had, it just left me wishing for something as fluid as the other chapters.

I’ve seen some people complaining about the ending, but I feel like this novel couldn’t have ended any other way. This novel was always going to be about relationships during the apocalypse, and the mechanics of the apocalypse weren’t meant to be the star of the show. I will admit that I had to turn back to check that yes, this really was the end, it felt like the quiet, tender ending that this novel deserved.

All in all, an emotional and deeply personal story of love at the end of the world. 3.75 stars, rounded up to 4!

If Tomorrow Doesn’t Come is a standalone, and it is Jen St. Jude’s debut novel.

Today’s song:

SAW THE YEAH YEAH YEAHS LIVE LAST NIGHT IT WAS MAGICAL

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

Posted in Uncategorized

YA Book Recommendations for Pride Month (2023 Edition) 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️

Posted on by madeline @ The Bookish Mutant

Happy Monday, bibliophiles!

Here we are again in pride month! It certainly is a joyous time of year, but in the past few years, it’s been a difficult one, too. All across the country, we have seen waves of anti-LGBTQ+ legislation, and the rhetoric that queer people are unnatural and wish to convert your children has spread like wildfire. We’ve also seen a dangerous increase in book bans—particularly by queer authors and authors of color. Books with diverse perspectives aren’t harming children—depriving children of these books is the dangerous part. Now more than ever is it important to read diversely: there’s never any harm in seeing a different perspective through literature. And if you’re really that concerned about “protecting the children,” maybe you should advocate for stricter gun laws instead of worrying about drag queen story hour.

In past years, I’ve split this post up into multiple (organized by genre), but I decided to make it all one post this year to keep it all more organized.

For my previous pride month lists, see below:

KEY:

  • MC: main character
  • LI: love interest
  • SC: side character

Enjoy this month’s Pride Month book recommendations!

🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️THE BOOKISH MUTANT’S YA PRIDE MONTH RECOMMENDATIONS (2023 EDITION)🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️

CONTEMPORARY, REALISTIC FICTION, AND NOVELS IN VERSE:

SCIENCE FICTION:

HISTORICAL FICTION:

FANTASY, MAGICAL REALISM, AND PARANORMAL:

TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK! What are your favorite queer reads that you’ve read recently? Have you read any books on this list, and what did you think of them? Tell me in the comments!

Today’s song:

That it for this year’s pride month recommendations! Have a wonderful rest of your day, and take care of yourselves!

Posted in Book Review Tuesday

Book Review Tuesday (5/2/23) – Star Splitter

Posted on by madeline @ The Bookish Mutant

Happy Tuesday, bibliophiles!

Honestly, it’s a wonder that I managed to get my hands on this book when I did. I heard about it from a few “out this week” blog posts from other book bloggers (thank you!!), and as of today, the book’s only a week old. I put it on hold on the Kindle library, and it came in surprisingly quick, to my relief! I was super excited by the sci-fi premise, and in most of the relevant aspects, it absolutely delivered!

Enjoy this week’s review!

Star Splitter – Matthew J. Kirby

The method of space travel that 17-year-old Jessica Mathers is familiar with isn’t the kind you’d expect. In for the process to work, teleportation is a crucial step—the body that you’re in on Earth isn’t the same one that goes to space. But either way, after six years of waiting to reunite with her scientist parents on a faraway exoplanet, Jessica is going to space.

But when she wakes up, she’s alone in the wreckage of the ship that was supposed to carry her and the crew, stranded on an alien planet. The walls of the wreck are covered in the evidence of something sinister, and her parents are nowhere in sight. And a teleported clone of herself may be the only person she can trust—and the only person for miles around on this planet.

TW/CW: sci-fi violence, blood, murder, body horror, loss of loved ones

tread lightly – this review contains some spoilers!

Sci-fi that references old(er) poetry is an incredibly niche demographic, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t squarely in the middle of it. You got me there.

This book kind of came out of the blue for me—I forgot that Matthew J. Kirby existed after reading a few of his books in middle school (sorry), so Star Splitter was more of a left-field pick for me. But despite its flaws, it was a fascinating and gripping read—certainly a better addition to the world of YA sci-fi!

Hard sci-fi is hard to nail down for a young adult book; astrophysics and quantum mechanics are hard for anybody to understand, but I can speak for myself as an (older) teenager and a longtime YA when I say that it might be even harder to understand for a younger-skewing audience. Not to insult anybody’s intelligence—I’m fully including myself in there, in all my new English major glory. But Kirby hit the near-perfect balance with explaining the mechanics of teleportation, and how it factored into space travel. It wasn’t explained like it was being explained to a child, but it didn’t dump all of the information in an unceremonious chunk of jargon, either. And it’s a super fascinating concept to boot—it adds a layer of suspense to an already suspenseful book, there’s significant ramifications for most everything about the world that Kirby sets up, and there’s an existential aspect too. It’s all great there.

The story itself held a lot of water for me as well! There was so much to pick apart in it‚ from Jessica’s existential conflict about interacting with her own clone (HUH) and her own body to the mystery of what happened to the DS Theseus and its inhabitants. (Also, loved that we had a spaceship called Theseus. I’m assuming it’s a nod to the Ship of Theseus, but it also works on another level when you consider what happened with the crew. I won’t spoil anything about that in particular.) Kirby’s writing consistently kept all of that afloat, juggling two different timelines with suspense unfolding in both of them. His descriptions of the landscape of Hades (Mr. Kirby really likes his Greek mythology, huh?) were also nothing short of lovely—I’m a sucker for any kind of alien planet exploration, and Star Splitter, for the most part, adequately scratched that itch.

I say “for the most part” because, as much as I loved it, there were so many parts that seemed too important that were just left out of the final conflict. The sideplot about the ruins of an alien city with a giant pile of ground sloth-looking skeletons???? Bioluminescence everywhere?? BEING PURSUED BY AN UNSEEN ALIEN IN THE SHADOWS??? That was my favorite part of the whole novel, but we really didn’t get any resolution to it. It felt like such a crime that we never got to see where that thread led, given how much it was foreshadowed and otherwise built up. I get that it wasn’t necessarily the main conflict, but Kirby gave it a similar amount of weight to the main conflict, so it felt like it was in need of a more satisfying conclusion than “Jessica got out of the city ruins somewhat unscathed.” I NEED MORE. GIVE THE PEOPLE (ME) WHAT THEY WANT.

I feel like this happened a lot with Star Splitter for me—aside from the main conflict, there were so many fascinating and inventive things going on with the world that felt so creative, but were just tossed aside as afterthoughts once they were explained. The fauna on Hades? Mt. Ida? QUANTUM GHOSTS? I was just taken aback by so many parts of the plot, only to have them scrapped in favor of the main conflict, which I…halfway understand. All this is to say that said main conflict was excellent, but I just wanted more. It wasn’t like Star Splitter was an exceedingly long novel either—320 pages leaves some room to explore at least a few other aspects of the world, I think. That’s why I’m *officially* putting my rating at 3.75 instead of the full 4 stars—there was so much creative stuff to chew on, but not enough of it was expanded upon. I’ll be needing a sequel, please and thank you. 🫶🏻

All in all, an inventive and fascinating sci-fi novel that presented a plethora of creative aspects to fill up the plot, but still left me wanting in some places. 3.75 stars, rounded up to 4!

As of now, it looks like Star Splitter is a standalone, but Matthew J. Kirby is the author of several other books for children and young adults, including the Dark Gravity Sequence (The Arctic Code, Island of the Sun, and The Rogue World), The Clockwork Three, A Taste for Monsters, and many others.

Today’s song:

getting caught up on Palehound before Eye on the Bat comes out…another great album!! this song reminds me so much of Wilco

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 (2/28/23) – Nothing Burns as Bright as You

Posted on by madeline @ The Bookish Mutant

Happy Tuesday, bibliophiles! I refuse to believe that February is almost over…

I didn’t know that Ashley Woodfolk had come out with a new book until very recently, and I ended up picking it up more on a whim than anything. But Nothing Burns as Bright as You quickly became my favorite read of this month, and easily the best of Woodfolk’s work that I’ve read. Raw, visceral, and consistently powerful, Woodfolk’s prose is great, but her poetry is something else entirely.

Enjoy this week’s review!

Nothing Burns as Bright as You – Ashley Woodfolk

Written in verse, Nothing Burns follows two unnamed girls, best friends who slowly but surely realize that they’ve become something more. But when one’s actions begin to toe the line of their relationship, their love—and their lives—fall in jeopardy. The foundation that once sustained their relationship has begun to crumble, but whether it can be glued back together will be decided in the blink of an eye.

TW/CW: racism, homophobia (some religious homophobia), substance abuse, sexual harassment

I kind of love the feeling when a book you just picked up on a whim hits you harder than you ever could have anticipated. I just thought “oh, it’s Ashley Woodfolk, I liked her last book, what could go wrong,” and the next thing I know, I’m highlighting every other line on my Kindle. Nothing Burns as Bright as You is just that powerful, a poignant story of the complexities of a toxic relationship.

Woodfolk’s prose is already excellent, as evidenced in When You Were Everything and several of her short stories, but her poetry hits a note so resonant that I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Every line is nothing short of genius—clever and observant, but nothing short of raw and painful. Nothing Burns as Bright as You is a heart laid bare for all to see, unflinching in the complicated, nuanced realities it depicts.

It would be easy to romanticize the events of Nothing Burns as Bright as You, but Woodfolk knew exactly how to avoid it; it’s a story about falling so hard in love that you lose yourself, but it’s also about coming to terms with loving somebody who drags you through the mud, who breaks you down even when they promise to love you. Setting fire to a dumpster outside of a high school is the perfect set-up for a coming-of-age romance, but a coming-of-age romance this isn’t…and is. The emphasis should be on the coming-of-age part; it’s about learning to heal from somebody that you thought loved you, and grappling with the fact that love isn’t black and white, and like a fire, it can give you warmth, but also consume you to the point of no return.

Even when both of the protagonists went unnamed, their personalities and stories shone through in every page. Despite the fact that it made writing my summary here a little tricky, the character study is vibrant enough that you don’t need names to tell each character apart—their clashing personalities come through in every relentlessly beautiful line. It’s so important to tell more inclusive love stories, but the reality is that not everything is quite so neat and simple—sapphic love isn’t always sunshine and roses. We need our stories of queer Black girls falling in love, but we need our stories of queer Black girls growing from complicated, toxic relationships almost just as much.

All in all, a startlingly raw and beautiful story of the complexities of queer love and being with somebody to the point of danger. 4.5 stars!

Nothing Burns as Bright as You is a standalone, but Ashley Woodfolk is also the author of When You Were Everything and The Beauty That Remains, and has also contributed short stories to collections such as Blackout, A Phoenix Must First Burn, and several others.

Today’s song:

WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH THIS IS SO GOOD I LIKE IT EVEN MORE THAN MOST OF CRACKER ISLAND????

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 (1/31/23) – A Million to One

Posted on by madeline @ The Bookish Mutant

Happy Tuesday, bibliophiles!

I hate to end the month on a negative note review-wise, but I just wasn’t a fan of this novel. I’ve been following Adiba Jaigidar’s books for a little while, and for the most part (still don’t see why Hani and Ishu still gets that much hype), she does well with writing diverse YA romances. I was excited to see her take on a different genre, but to my disappointment, A Million to One read as a half-baked, flimsy excuse for a heist.

For my review of Hani and Ishu’s Guide to Fake Dating, click here!

Enjoy this week’s review!

A Million to One – Adiba Jaigirdar

Josefa, Emilie, Hinnah, and Violeta: four girls from radically different backgrounds, thrown together on the RMS Titanic. Their mission: to steal a copy of the Rubaiyat, embedded with jewels and worth a fortune. With all of their skills combined, the girls are confident that they can swipe the priceless book once and for all. But the Titanic is filled with distractions, romance, and all sorts of obstacles, and the job may be easier said than done. Add in the recent revelation that the Titanic is sinking, and the four realize that they may be in over their heads…

TW/CW: drowning, mentions of parental abuse, loss of loved ones, abandonment

Yikes. I think I’m gonna have to break up with Adiba Jaigirdar after this one. I loved The Henna Wars, Hani and Ishu’s Guide to Fake Dating was decent but nothing earth-shattering, and now A Million to One was just plain disappointing. Her books have just gotten progressively worse for me? I really appreciate that she’s branching out from romance, but it really seems like she bit off more than she could chew.

Before I get to all my gripes, I will say that I loved, as with all of Jaigirdar’s novels, the amount of diversity. It’s historical fiction, but we have Black, Pakistani, and Croatian characters, a sapphic romance, and all but one of the main characters are immigrants, which is always fantastic to see. The thing about A Million to One was that everything came down to the execution, and the execution failed miserably.

If I had to sum up A Million to One in brief terms, it feels like Jaigirdar was watching your garden-variety heist movie, fell asleep half an hour in, and then tried to write a book from that memory as soon as she woke up. All of the beats of a typical heist were technically there, but they all but stood around and did nothing. Everything that should have been interesting about this novel—getting the gang together, the Titanic setting, carrying out the heist, the romance—was glossed over in favor of a good 100 pages of dithering in between each major plot point. It was the skeleton of a heist, lacking all of the meat and muscle that would have made it substantial.

For instance: the first few chapters of the novel. These were dedicated to Josefa assembling her crew, which is the kind of beat that I really enjoy in any kind of heist plot. However, all it consisted of was Josefa randomly going up to the rest of the characters with seemingly no explanation and offering them the job, and them either agreeing to it immediately (???), or, if we were lucky, having a paragraph of deliberation before agreeing to it. This could have been a perfect opportunity to develop the characters (especially since they weren’t developed much at all throughout the novel anyway) and introduce their personalities/roles in the heist, but we got absolutely none of that. It wasn’t like A Million to One was so long that this part of the plot needed to be cut down for time—it’s barely over 300 pages. There was no excuse for that.

And for the amount of opportunities that Jaigirdar had to develop these four characters, most of them were shockingly underdeveloped. Other than some insight on the motivations of Violeta and Emilie, all four characters had nearly indistinguishable voices, personalities, and no reason for being on the mission other than a vague role. We got a bit of a tragic backstory for Hinnah, at least, but a tragic backstory with nothing else to go off of does not a well-developed character make. In addition, we only got a vague idea of what the characters’ roles were—the actress, the thief, the acrobat, and the forger—often with no context. For instance: Violeta was supposed to be an actress, but we got no idea of her background, her training, and how she got to be so good. For a novel that seemed to market the diversity and individuality of the crew, it would’ve been leagues better if I had been able to tell who was who without the chapter titles.

The majority of the novel ended up being a bunch of meaningless dithering about on the Titanic, which was intended to…build up the suspense, I supposed, but it felt like far too many pages of The Gang running around the ship, chatting with a boy or two, trying to throw the guards off their trail, and making no progress whatsoever. There was supposed to be a romance somewhere hidden in there, but it ended up being my problem with Hani and Ishu, amplified: two characters just got thrown together with zero prior chemistry, insinuation, or anything that would suggest love. It got to the point where any movement in the novel was indistinguishable, and by the time I finally got around to the actual heist, any semblance of suspense or action had vanished. The only thing that managed to partially grab my attention was the fact that the Titanic had started to sink, but by then, the only aspect that somewhat grabbed my attention was that half of the main cast died. If major character deaths are the only thing that are keeping your reader interested, then something is very wrong with your plot.

All in all, a break from form for Adiba Jaigirdar, but one that ended in a half-baked, borderline boring disaster. 2 stars.

A Million to One is a standalone, but Adiba Jaigirdar is also the author of The Henna Wars, Hani and Ishu’s Guide to Fake Dating, and the forthcoming The Dos and Donuts of Love.

I’ve already posted once today, but have another song anyway:

such a lovely cover 😭

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 (11/29/22) – The All-Consuming World

Posted on by madeline @ The Bookish Mutant

Happy Tuesday, bibliophiles!

I never learn, do I? Every few weeks, I always start craving sci-fi again, and when there’s nothing readily available at the library or on Kindle, I just sift through the dust bunnies in my TBR until I find something interesting. And to be fair, The All-Consuming World did sound interesting. I was willing to give it a chance despite the pitifully low ratings it’s been getting (a 3.28/5 on Goodreads, as of now), but it turned out to be exactly the disappointment that the reviews promised.

Enjoy this week’s review!

The All-Consuming World – Cassandra Khaw

Maya’s glory days are over. After being resurrected dozens of times, she’s slowly outgrown the Dirty Dozen, the galaxy’s most infamous criminal group, and decided to make her own way. But when the galaxy’s ruler, an all-powerful, sentient AI, threatens to hold their realm in a chokehold, it’s up to Maya to recruit the disbanded bunch of cyborgs, clones, and lowlives to save the galaxy from complete control.

TW/CW: body horror, sci-fi violence, amputation/emergency medical procedures, suicide

DNF at 35%.

I genuinely can’t think of a book with a more jarring writing style than this one. Jarring can sometimes be good, but in the case of The All-Consuming World, it seemed like a case of vast stylistic indecision, and this indecision dragged the entire book down with it. I really wanted to like this book—queer space opera is always up my alley, and I always want to try and support queer authors—but it ended up being a sore disappointment all the way through. (What I could stand to read before I gave up, anyway.) As I always say with my negative reviews: I completely understand. Putting yourself out there as an author is an immensely hard thing to do, and I always admire the work put in. But this book just did not click with me at all.

The writing style is what, for me, made The All-Consuming World crash and burn. Maya was clearly supposed to be a rough-around-the-edges character, battered and bruised, and all around Tough and Gritty™️, and at least half what I read seemed to try and get that voice…with at least 15 f-bombs dropped within rapid succession of each other on each page. Now, I don’t have a problem with swearing at all, and I appreciate the art of a well-placed, well-timed swear. But the excess of ill-placed cusses (along with more f-bombs than there are leaves on the trees in the Amazon Rainforest)—half of which were in combinations that made absolutely no sense at all—made for writing that read more like a middle schooler trying to be edgy than a tough and hardened criminal.

But on the other hand, the other half of what I read was some of the wordiest, floweriest prose I’ve ever read. And some of that had moments of being good—I’ll give Khaw some credit for that—but it was such a jarring contrast. Sometimes, juxtaposition like this works, but the two, distinct voices that Khaw was trying to go for had such a vast gulf in tone between them that it lacked any sense of cohesion whatsoever. I really wanted to stick it out to see what happened, but it was just giving me such a headache to try and weather the writing, so I had to quit.

I stopped at 35% of the way through, and I still don’t have a clue what was going on, plot-wise. I seriously can’t remember if there was a plot beneath all of the flashbacks and exposition, impenetrable prose, and multitudinous f-bombs. From the synopsis, I was told that Dimmuborgir was supposed to be a central plot point, but I only remember it being mentioned a single time. Yes, 35% of the way in isn’t all that far, but that close to the halfway point, I would’ve thought that the characters would have at least moved the slightest bit towards their destination. It was all very…vague. Vague sense of rebellion towards a vague concept of an omniscient, ruling AI with a vague set of characters that fell into either AI or Hardened Criminal™️ boxes. And the worldbuilding? Left the building before the book had even begun. Trying to read The All-Consuming World felt like trying to dig through a messy closet, and emerging an hour later without having found the thing you needed to find in the first place.

All in all, a book that it pains me to rate so low, but crashed and burned in almost every conceivable aspect. 1 star.

The All-Consuming World is a standalone, but Cassandra Khaw is also the author of the Persons Non Grata series (Hammers on Bone and A Song for Quiet), Nothing but Blackened Teeth, These Deathless Bones, and several other novels and novellas.

Today’s song:

BACK TO BLUR AGAIN!! so far, this is my least favorite album of theirs that I’ve listened to, but it’s still a fantastic listen—take this song, for instance

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 (11/15/22) – She Gets the Girl

Posted on by madeline @ The Bookish Mutant

Happy Tuesday, bibliophiles! Even more snow today…

I initially put She Gets the Girl on my TBR because of so much buzz from my fellow bloggers, and I like to go for a queer romance every once in a while. I read it recently and I liked that it was from the perspective of a freshman in college (hey, it’s me!), but beyond that, it felt more like a mess of unlikeable characters and uncomfortable peer pressure instead of feel-good romance.

Enjoy this week’s review!

She Gets the Girl – Rachael Lippincott and Alyson Derrick

Alex Blackwood is entering college on the heels of a nasty breakup. Molly Parker is looking for love, and she’s in luck—her longtime crush, Cora Myers, is attending the same college as her. Problem is, Molly’s hopelessly awkward, especially around people she likes. When she and Alex have a chance encounter, they hatch a plan for Alex to polish up Molly’s flirting skills so that she can get the girl. But when Molly starts falling for Alex instead of Cora, the end goal becomes hazy…

TW/CW: alcoholism, toxic relationships, internalized racism, substance abuse

It’s all fun and games until the romance you picked up because you wanted it to be somewhat “feel-good” turns out to be…more uncomfortable than feel-good. It’s even harder when you hate one of the characters, and harder still when the two main characters seem to have hardly any chemistry. That’s the story of She Gets the Girl—a romance with an easy enough concept that was dragged down by forced and unlikable elements.

I’m sorry, I just have to get it out of the way: I hated Alex Blackwood. Hated her. It was clear that the authors were trying to make her a rough-around-the-edges character that would a) contrast Molly’s uptight and awkward personality and b) push her out of her comfort zone, which was a good enough pairing in concept. Key words here are “in concept.” What Alex ended up being was a total hypocrite—she’s so intent on being the opposite of her toxic ex, but turns around and manages to be just as toxic, just in a different way. And the whole concept of pushing Molly out of her comfort zone so that she can get with Cora? Most of it just ended up being Alex forcing Molly to do things that she was deeply uncomfortable with.

Thus, Molly and Alex had almost zero chemistry. Their entire relationship was built on the shaky foundation of knowing that they would end up together by the end of the book, and not much else. Everything was just…so forced. It’s heavily implied that Cora wasn’t a good option either since, yes, it as forced, but…I really don’t think dating Alex would’ve been a great option either, seeing as how much of a manipulative jerk she was to Molly. Proposed third option: Molly just takes off and finds better friends/lovers that…y’know, aren’t toxic?

That brings me to the weird message of this book. Throughout the book, all of the things that Alex pushes Molly to do to win Cora’s love involve changing herself in some way: changing her wardrobe into things she would normally be uncomfortable wearing, going to events that you have no experience in just to fit in with Cora, etc. It was sort of resolved by the relationship with Cora not working out, but Alex’s “advice” boiled down to Molly changing herself so that Cora would like her. I suppose they were trying to go with a “be true to yourself” message, which I really would’ve liked, but they resolved it by…pairing Molly with Alex, the one who was trying to force Molly to change in the first place. And Alex never apologizes for any of that—they just fall in love and then move on. Hence—no chemistry. No repercussions, save for the fling with Cora not working out. All that really happened was Alex’s manipulative actions being rewarded, which really rubbed me the wrong way. Even though Molly and Alex got into an argument about that, there was no sense of Alex taking responsibility for forcing Molly into all that uncomfortable stuff. I really wish Lippincott and Derrick had handled their relationship—and the message—better. She Gets the Girl had an easy way to send a good message, but it ended up bungling it all in the end.

There were a few aspects of She Gets the Girl that I did like. It’s always nice to have a mixed race character, and having Molly be mixed race really freshened things up, as well as some of the discussions about internalized racism. Even though I still despise Alex, the way they handled the situation with her mother was also respectfully handled—hard to read, but it seemed genuine to me. However, a lot of this ended up being overshadowed by how much of a mess the rest of the book was.

Overall, a romance that stumbled and fell when creating chemistry between the two characters, making for an uncomfortable book—and an uncomfortable message. 2 stars.

She Gets the Girl is a standalone, and the first and only book that Rachael Lippincott has written with her wife, Alyson Derrick. Lippincott is also the author of Five Feet Apart and All This Time (both co-written with Mikki Daughtry), as well as The Lucky List.

Today’s song:

listened to the whole album yesterday! it was one of those cases where I listened to all of the best songs beforehand so the rest of the album wasn’t *as* good (still good though), but it’s a great album

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)

Posted on by madeline @ The Bookish Mutant

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!