Tag: YA Romance

Posted in Book Review Tuesday

Book Review Tuesday (2/13/24) – Sing Me to Sleep

Posted on by madeline @ The Bookish Mutant

Happy Tuesday, bibliophiles!

I always love stories about mermaids and sirens, so Sing Me to Sleep instantly went on my TBR when it came out last June. Sing Me to Sleep presented a land-bound take on sirens that proved fascinating, and resulted in a tense, seductive YA fantasy!

Enjoy this week’s review!

Sing Me to Sleep – Gabi Burton

Saoirse is hiding a deadly secret. She’s a siren, driven by the urge to kill and seduce, which has made her into the perfect assassin. Her talents took her all the way to the good graces of the royal family of Kierdre, but they don’t know of her true identity—and she must hide it at all costs, lest she incur the wrath of their creature-hating king. But working as one of the personal bodyguards to Prince Hayes has its perks, and soon, Saoirse finds herself questioning her loyalties—and drawn towards a prince who would kill her if he discovered her true self.

TW/CW: genocide (past), kidnapping, fantasy violence, murder, poisoning, drowning, stabbing, torture

I’m not going to bog down this review by starting it with another rant about how jaded I am with epic and high fantasy, but I’ll leave it at the fact that this was the reason that my expectations for Sing Me to Sleep were so average. But I ended up blowing through this novel, and I haven’t done that in weeks—it’s just pure fun.

I won’t lie—I was a little disappointed when I realized that Sing Me to Sleep took place primarily on land when they had a siren protagonist. Mermaids and sirens are an instant draw for me, so I was excited to explore some of those magical aspects and how Burton realized them in her fantasy world. However, once I got into the novel, I ended up enjoying how Saoirse’s siren status affected her when she was confined to land, from the call of the sea every time she came near it to being momentarily thrilled by having her head dunked underwater while being tortured for information. Burton’s handling of Saoirse’s hidden thirst for male blood was similarly well-executed; it set a kind of time bomb of sorts whenever she was around her targets, and made the stakes feel tangible and not just an aside thrown in to remind the reader that she’s a siren. The way that Burton utilized these aspects made for a novel with just the right amount of stakes, with tension in all the right places.

Sing Me to Sleep hinged on the twist of Saoirse, trained to seduce and take advantage of men before killing them to satisfy her bloodlust, accidentally falling for Prince Hayes and not knowing what to do with herself. I was banking on it being a little cheesy (this is YA fantasy, after all), but I really appreciated how slow Burton took it with the budding romance! Not only was the forbidden aspect of it enhanced by the aforementioned handling of Saoirse being a siren, Burton didn’t go headfirst into the romance, like so many authors end up doing while trying to pull off enemies-to-lovers. The initial hatred and disdain felt genuine, and Saoirse’s inner conflict when she realized that she was falling for one of her marks was appropriately a shock to her senses. Although I didn’t particularly care for Prince Hayes as a character, Saoirse’s reactions to him felt true to what enemies-to-lovers should be. I’m interested to see how the romance will play out in the sequel…

Again: I’ll spare you my gripes with epic fantasy as a whole, but unlike of much of the fantasy I can remember reading recently, Sing Me to Sleep had the beginnings of some fascinating fantasy worldbuilding! The novel does a great job of establishing all of the different magical races and subsequently detailing the history of discrimination and subjugation amongst them. Burton did have quite a lot on her plate, but for the most part, she juggled it well, making for a world with limits that made sense and enough hints within to make me want to read the sequel just to see how some of the hidden elements get explored. Half the hard part of worldbuilding is making it something that the reader is actually motivated to read once you’ve done all the heavy lifting to create it, and Burton succeeded on that front!

However, while Burton did well with juggling several moving parts in her worldbuilding, I’m not sure if I can say the same for her characters. Although Saoirse was a compelling protagonist with motives that were appropriately fleshed-out, most of the others—of which there were a ton—left a lot to be desired. Besides Hayes, if we got any trace of their personalities, it was left at one character trait (or physical description) to distinguish them, and not much else. Combine that with the expectation that there were dozens of these characters running around that we had to remember to get all of the plot, and it just made for a mess as far as remembering why any of them were important save for their job descriptions. If some of them had been cut out, it would have solved the whole problem—it’s just a case of Burton biting off much more than she could chew, which is entirely understandable for a debut novel.

All in all, an action-packed fantasy full of tension, forbidden love, and bloodlust. 4 stars!

Sing Me to Sleep is Gabi Burton’s debut novel and the first novel in the Sing Me to Sleep duology, concluded by Drown Me with Dreams, which is slated for release this August.

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 Books

The Bookish Mutant’s Books for Black History Month (2024 Edition)

Posted on by madeline @ The Bookish Mutant

Happy Tuesday, bibliophiles!

Apologies for the lack of a Book Review Tuesday this week; like with Sunday Songs, I’ve just had a busy few days, and I wasn’t able to put anything together in time, but I was creating this post in advance, so I figured today would be a good day to post it.

Here in the U.S., February is Black History Month! Since I’ve started making these recommendation lists back in 2021 (and focusing on reading more diversely in general), I’ve discovered so many incredible authors, and now that I’m reading YA and adult novels in almost equal measure, my scope has broadened so much more. (Note: I’m still frugal about my media space on WordPress, but this list, like last year’s, contains both YA and adult novels, even though the header image just says YA.) But as with every single year, it’s more crucial than ever to uplift Black voices—not just to amplify them and other marginalized groups in the fields of literature and publishing (especially when the industry sees diversity as nothing but a box to be checked off, more often than not), but especially since we’re living in a climate here in the states (and elsewhere) that is intent on erasing both our systemic racism (past and present) and silencing Black voices. And one of the most accessible ways to fight this poisonous rhetoric is to read—to open your eyes, to learn for yourself, and to share what you have learned with others. In a landscape where anything other than the white, cishet, abled majority wants to ban any voice that isn’t theirs, reading is an act of resistance.

For my lists from previous years, click below:

Let’s begin, shall we?

THE BOOKISH MUTANT’S BOOKS FOR BLACK HISTORY MONTH

FANTASY:

SCIENCE FICTION:

REALISTIC FICTION:

TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK! Have you read any of these books, and if so, did you enjoy them? What are some of your favorite books by Black authors that you’ve read recently? Let me know in the comments!

Today’s song:

thanks again to my brother for exposing me to this one!

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

Posted in Book Review Tuesday

Book Review Tuesday (1/2/24) – Into the Heartless Wood

Posted on by madeline @ The Bookish Mutant

Happy Tuesday, bibliophiles! First post of the year, phew…

I went into Into the Heartless Wood with no expectations—it was the very end of the year, and I just happened to be in a fantasy mood, mostly brought on by The Siren, the Song, and the Spy and The Stardust Thief. I’m glad I had zero expectations, because Into the Heartless Wood was deeply beautiful and emotional, and it had just the right elements to make for a modern fairytale.

Enjoy this week’s review!

Into the Heartless Wood – Joanna Ruth Meyer

Owen Merrick knows better than to venture into the witch’s wood. The forest within is where the tree-sirens dwell, monstrous creatures capable of tearing down cities and ensnaring even the most sensible people with their fatal song. The woods took Owen’s mother when he was young, and ever since, he’s vowed never to return. But after his little sister wanders into the wood and incurs the wrath of the tree-sirens, one of them spares their lives. Owen and the tree-siren both begin to feel a pull towards each other. In secret, Owen visits the tree-siren, but their relationship is one that may spell disaster for the human and siren kingdoms. A war is brewing, and they may be caught in the middle.

TW/CW: blood, gore, child endangerment, suicide, torture, vehicle crash/derailment, war themes

Into the Heartless Wood was just something I picked up because I was in an extended fantasy mood for most of last week, but it blew me away at how emotional and heartbreakingly tender it was. I thought I’d given up on Beauty and the Beast retellings, but to be honest, I had no idea that this was a retelling until after I’d finished the whole thing, and maybe that’s what made it so memorable. All it stuck to was the central theme of the story—everything else was Joanna Ruth Meyer, and that everything else was beautiful.

This is more of a general statement on fantasy/supernatural romances in general, but it feels like every pairing in it ends up where the woman is human, and the man is the non-human creature or monster. It’s on most of the shirtless dude (but this time he’s a werewolf/vampire/etc.) romances that I see advertised, and it’s in a lot of popular YA fantasies. It’s always the king or prince of the fae that the otherwise practical human girl falls for. And even though it’s my favorite movie, The Shape of Water fits too. You get the idea. We hardly ever let women be monsters. Not to get real College with it, but there’s something to be said for the fact that we can’t stand to make women monsters—and therefore unattractive in some way—because otherwise, they wouldn’t be tidy little sex objects anymore. Women are hardly ever in the position of the monstrous character because a lot of writers can’t stand the thought of a woman’s characteristics or redemption arc not being tied to her beauty.

That’s part of why Into the Heartless Wood stood out to me so much. Something as simple as a gender-swap has done this novel an immense service. Seren, the tree-siren love interest, is monstrous in the basic sense, but her inner conflict and the history that led up to who she is was written in such a painfully tender way. Even if she wasn’t meant to be the love interest, you would still feel so deeply for her. The way that her POV chapters switched from verse to prose depending on her circumstances was so artfully subtle, and Meyer had no trouble navigating between the two, even as Seren herself struggled to separate herself from the woods. The conflict between Seren and her sisters, as well as the inner conflicts of her place in the world and the struggle to become something more than a pawn of her mother, made her not just fleshed-out, but a character I was rooting for from page one. (I always feel sympathetic towards the monsters, but the point still stands.) Owen was the perfect match for her—his sensitivity and fearful yearning for something beyond the ordinary fit Seren’s search for meaning beyond the wood perfectly.

The Kingdom of Tarian was also fleshed out just right! I’m assuming most of it was Welsh-inspired, judging from the names of places and characters, but I liked the integration of the industrial aspect of Tarian, and not automatically opting for a medieval setting, as most fantasies tend to do. (It’s all well and good, but it gets tiring once 95% of the high fantasy books you’ve read end up with the same setting with minor tweaks.) The industrialization enhanced the nature/mankind conflict that the novel sets up; from the beginning, there’s a stark contrast between the human world of steam trains and semi-modern warfare and the wood, with its wild, man-eating tree witches, and it made the central, generational conflict between the Witch of the Wood and the king of Tarian seem even more grave, even if the lives of both protagonists and their families weren’t at stake.

What wrapped all of this together was both the prose and verse of Joanna Ruth Meyer. Both ways, her writing was truly lyrical, achingly poetic in even the most fleeting of scenes. The emotion that was baked into the fiber of this story made the almost Romeo & Juliet-like romance of Owen and Seren feel all the more revolutionary—teenagers always feel like their love stories are what make the world go ’round, but Meyer made you believe every word of it and root for the lovers every step of the way. Every bit of both love and heartbreak was heartstring-tugging—there’s nothing like a story of lovers giving each other the courage to break away from the mold set by the world(s) around them. Works like a charm.

All in all, an achingly romantic and heartbreaking fantasy that had me hanging on every word. 4.5 stars!

Into the Heartless Wood is a standalone, but Joanna Ruth Meyer is also the author of the Echo North series (Echo North, Wind Daughter, and the companion Wolf Daughter & The Oldest Magic), and the Beneath the Haunting Sea series (Beneath the Haunting Sea and Beneath the Shadowed Earth).

Today’s song:

big thank you to my brother for sending me 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 Book Review Tuesday

Book Review Tuesday (12/18/23) – You Have a Match

Posted on by madeline @ The Bookish Mutant

Happy Tuesday, bibliophiles!

Ever since I read Tweet Cute and loved it about three years back, I’ve been meaning to read Emma Lord’s follow-up, You Have a Match, for ages. I’m not sure if I can just chalk it up to “I shouldn’t read anything that’s languished on my TBR for more than 3 years” because it seems like most of the Goodreads reviewers I’m seeing found it just as disappointing, but either way, this one was a miss for me.

Enjoy this week’s review!

You Have a Match – Emma Lord

Abby mainly decided to give a DNA service a go as a joke. But the results tell her that she has a secret sister—Savannah Tully. And Savannah isn’t just an ordinary sister—she also happens to be an influencer with a seemingly perfect life. Desperate to find out about the sister her parents hid from her, she hatches a plan to meet up with her at summer camp. But distractions from Leo, her best friend (or something more?) and co-chef at the camp, and drama between her and Savannah threaten to throw a wrench in her plan to find out why her parents separated her sister.

TW/CW: grief/loss, mentions of substance abuse, anxiety, mentions of abandonment, brief descriptions of injury and illness (broken bones, pneumonia)

I was banking on You Have a Match being at least decent just because of the memory of how good Tweet Cute was, but I really should’ve run for the hills the minute I saw the Reese’s YA Book Club sticker on it. But whether or not I’m looking at Tweet Cute through rose-colored glasses or if Emma Lord just took a dip in quality, You Have a Match was not nearly as sweet—or even enjoyable—as its predecessor.

The main issue with You Have a Match was that it didn’t seem to know what it wanted to be. The premise (and partially the title, although it definitely applies to both) was advertised mostly as a kind of coming-of-age story of sisterhood, but the book itself also wanted to shove a fully-developed romance plot in between it all. The thing is, both of these stories could have been great as separate books—one about finding your lost sister, one about falling in love at summer camp. And I really believe that Lord could’ve succeeded with both of those stories. But even though it could have been possible to merge the two, You Have a Match felt like it didn’t know where to put the emphasis. As a result, the story felt like it needlessly jumped all over the place, making both of the plots cease to be cohesive. It really feels like a case of Lord biting off far more than she could chew.

As a result, the romance that was supposed to happen between Abby and Leo definitely suffered. So much attention was brought to the plot with Savannah and her friends that there was no room for their chemistry to develop, and by the end of the novel, none of the romance felt fleshed out in any way. All of it hinged on the reader believing the information that was very much told (certainly not shown…) that they’d had a beautiful friendship for years, and even that wasn’t enough to save the absolutely lukewarm romantic aspects of this book.

The pacing of You Have a Match didn’t help either of these issues—in fact, it was probably the reason that they were exacerbated. Once the characters got to camp, none of the timing made any sense. It felt like we were just being bounced along like a pinball from subplot A to subplot B without any room to breathe or make sense of what was happening. Everything felt transient and borderline pointless; 309 pages (for the Kindle edition) isn’t that short of a page count, but some points really did feel like filler. This is probably what could have solved the “this book doesn’t know what it wants to be” issue—cut all the filler and focus on developing the relationships between the characters, and chances are, I would’ve enjoyed it so much more.

Part of what endeared me to Tweet Cute was that the social media parts rarely came across as a Gen X author trying too hard to sound “hip.” As much as it can be, it felt real enough that the humor and romance could come through via that aspect. However, whatever internet savviness that Lord had was lost somewhere in the dust between Tweet Cute and You Have a Match. Maybe it was the shift in focus from Twitter to the whole mess that is the concept of Influencers, but it felt incredibly shallow in comparison. Despite her (eventual) redeeming qualities, Savvy came across as the most unoriginal, cardboard-cutout idea of an influencer (fit, makes green smoothies, immaculate hygiene, does yoga, etc.), but Lord could have easily subverted that idea with something that set her apart. All of the nuance came down to “influencers are people too, my life isn’t always perfect :(” and never went any further. Especially with the fact that Abby and Savvy were sisters all along, I feel like this could’ve gone so much deeper—or, at least, in a more interesting direction.

All in all, a coming-of-age, summer camp rom-com that wasted almost all of the potential that it had. 2 stars.

You Have a Match is a standalone, but Emma Lord is the author of several other novels, including Tweet Cute, Begin Again, When You Get the Chance, and the forthcoming novels The Break-Up Pact and The Getaway List.

Today’s song:

if I listen to this enough time, will I just forget that winter exists?

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

The Bookish Mutant’s Book for Asexual Awareness Week – 2023 Edition

Posted on by madeline @ The Bookish Mutant

Happy Sunday, bibliophiles! I hope this week has treated you well.

First off, apologies for the lack of a book review/Sunday Songs this week. I’ve just been busy with school, and I didn’t have as much time to sit down and write something that wasn’t the draft I’m trying to get myself back into the rhythm of writing. (I’ve been cobbling at this post in advance before this week, so that’s why you’re able to see it now.) Plus, I was just generally exhausted on Tuesday, but it was a good exhaustion, all things considered, because I’d seen Peter Gabriel the night before! Words don’t do justice to how incredible of a show it was. You’ll definitely hear about it later.

Here in the U.S., Asexual Awareness week, or Ace Week, is celebrated from October 22-28! Even though I’m not on the asexual/aromantic spectrum, it’s impossible to not see how much this community gets left behind, even within the LGBTQ+ community; just as any other spectrum of identity, it’s just as valid and worthy of respect as anything else. I’ve been meaning to make more asexual book lists, but this time of year is kind of crazy for me. But this year, I figured I would start early so I would have another book list—we need to shed more light on these fantastic books and authors!

For my original list from 2020, click here!

Let’s begin, shall we?

THE BOOKISH MUTANT’S BOOKS FOR ASEXUAL AWARENESS WEEK

FANTASY:

REALISTIC & HISTORICAL FICTION:

SCI-FI:

TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK! Have you read any of these books, and what did you think of them? What are your favorite books with characters on the asexual spectrum? Let me know in the comments!

Today’s song:

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

Posted in Book Review Tuesday

Book Review Tuesday (10/10/23) – Always Human

Posted on by madeline @ The Bookish Mutant

Happy Tuesday, bibliophiles!

Always Human came onto my radar around three years ago—probably from my fellow bloggers—but I’d forgotten about it until I came across it at my college’s library. I’m always a sucker for cozy sci-fi, and I never say no to a graphic novel, so of course I picked this book up. But while it was sweet and had some great commentary on disability, it didn’t quite scratch my sci-fi itch in all the right ways.

Enjoy this week’s review!

Always Human – Ari North

Sunati lives in a world of body modification. With simple, easy-to-use technology, she can change any part of her appearance that she wishes—even enhancing her memory so that she won’t have to study for tests. But not everybody has it as easy as Sunati. Austen has Egan’s syndrome, which means that her immune system rejects any kind of body modification. When the two meet by chance, it’s love at first sight. And although they are different in all kinds of ways, it won’t take long before they realize that they were made for each other.

Art by Ari North

TW/CW: nothing that I can find—Always Human is very gentle, and I’d be hard-pressed to find anything triggering about it. Enjoy!

Always Human is sweet. It was a soft, tender palate-cleanser, but I didn’t find myself getting very attached to any of it. It’s cute, and I’d say it’s worth a read, but it lacked the emotional weight to fully immerse myself in the characters or the world.

Let’s start out with the positives. It’s rare that fictional, sci-fi disabilities actually mirror the experience of disabled people, but Always Human did an excellent job of portraying Austen’s disability. Austen has Egan’s syndrome, a fictional autoimmune disorder where her body rejects any kind of body modification, which is central in the futuristic world where Always Human is set. Throughout Sunati and Austen’s developing romance, this novel makes the very important case that disabled people do not exist to inspire you, and that going through life as a disabled person isn’t some grand feat. It’s something that Sunati has to contend with when talking about Austen, and watching her learn made at least some of the romance work.

Additionally, I loved how vibrant the art style was! I’m not usually one for the quasi-manga style that North draws in, but every panel really did pop. The vibrant pinks and blues truly shone, which simultaneously sold the joyous glow of young love and the bright, technology-centric world that Sunati and Austen inhabit. Just like the story itself, there are no hard edges: everything is soft and cloudy, calling sunsets, cotton candy, and hope to mind. It suited the story exceptionally well—Ari North absolutely looked like she knew what she was doing.

However, there was one part of the art that didn’t sit as pleasantly with me. Although the colors consistently popped, the character movements…did not. Their poses looked so consistently stiff. And listen. I’m an artist. I get it. Drawing dynamic poses is so hard. Game recognizes game. But the characters’ movements looked so wooden, no matter what pose they were drawn in. These static poses failed to immerse me fully in the story—if they don’t look like they’re really moving, how can I believe that anything else is? I’m saying this to myself as well as Ari North: maybe a few more of those nice references on Pinterest would have livened up the art.

Always Human made the jump from WebToon to print after seemingly wild success on the former, but I’m not sure if the plot format survived the leap. The broken-up chapters would theoretically work if I were getting them, say, once a week, but all together, they didn’t feel quite as coherent. I’m all for cozy sci-fi and slice-of-life stories, but what makes the ones I like work is that there’s still some kind of end goal, however low-stakes it may be, that the characters are heading towards. Always Human felt rather meandering in that sense. It really felt like the plot was being made up as North went along, and the result was quite lukewarm. Even the romance, which the plot clearly hinged on, was set up and happened so quickly that the rest of the story didn’t hold much water. If the romance had been slowly developed over the course of the graphic novel, I would have felt much more engaged. Thus, I never really felt the emotion that North was trying so hard to get across—it all felt rushed and half-baked. Insta-love is never the answer, kids.

All in all, a light and fluffy sci-fi comic that boasted vibrant color and cogent points about disability, but felt rather stiff in both the art and the plot. 3 stars.

Always Human is the first volume in the Always Human series; the series concludes with Love and Gravity.

Today’s song:

adore this album, but also, I can’t listen to it too many times in a row, y’know?

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 (8/22/23) – Imogen, Obviously

Posted on by madeline @ The Bookish Mutant

Happy Tuesday, bibliophiles!

I’ve been reading Becky Albertalli’s YA books since middle school, and they’ve always had a special place in my heart. Although some of them have been hit-or-miss, I was looking forward to reading this one—it seemed so deeply personal to her, and I was so excited for the bisexual rep! And although it wasn’t perfect, it was such a deeply authentic depiction of the bisexual experience.

Enjoy this week’s review!

Imogen, Obviously – Becky Albertalli

Imogen Scott knows her place—the token ally amongst her very queer friend group. She knows the nuances of queer culture and discourse in and out, but she’s confident in her heterosexuality. But all of that changes when she stays with her best friend Lili at her new dorm in college. Lili, who happened to tell everybody that Imogen was her ex in an ill-thought-out lie. Imogen is happy to keep up the ruse, but when she meets Tessa, one of Lili’s new (and very cute) friends, she begins to question whether or not it’s the role of “ally” that’s the lie after all.

TW/CW: biphobia/homophobia (external & internalized), forced outing, underage drinking

From the start, I knew that Imogen, Obviously was going to be a deeply personal book for Becky Albertalli. That’s exactly what it was, and that’s exactly what it should have been. Even though it wasn’t without its flaws, Imogen, Obviously is an incredibly important book in that it shows us a narrative of bisexuality that isn’t portrayed as much, and that there is no one true narrative of how bisexuality is in the first place.

As a bisexual reader, Imogen’s story resonated so much with me, even if our coming-out journeys were different. And the fact that Imogen has a coming-out journey that deviates from a lot of the bisexual representation in media in general is a breath of fresh air; along her path of self-discovery, there’s some fantastic discussions about how we internalize stereotypes, the pressure to be “queer enough,” internalize biphobia and feeling like you don’t belong in queer spaces, and so much more. (And I’m glad that somebody’s talking about how random bisexual “traits” that float around social media…I once saw one that said “you may be bisexual if winter is your favorite season”…huh? What does that have to do with anything?) It’s a love letter to those who who feel like exceptions from the norm in a place that’s already populated by outsiders.

Adding onto that, what makes Imogen, Obviously such an important book to me is that it has such an important message about bisexuality, and about queerness in general: there is no one way to be bi, and that the entire queer experience doesn’t have to be entangled with suffering. We watch Imogen struggle with feelings of imposter syndrome in the queer community and repeatedly being put down by a “friend” who feels like she has the ultimate queer authority because she’s experienced quite a lot of homophobia, and it serves as an important reminder: we can’t exclude queer people from their own community just because they “aren’t queer enough” by some arbitrary measure. Again, it speaks to the personal element of this book, what with Albertalli’s own recent forced outing, but it’s a message that needs to be loud and clear.

Apart from the many wonderful messages that this book spreads, I loved watching the relationship between Imogen and Tessa develop! It really felt accurate to having your first queer crush in real time, with all of the stomach butterflies and shy conversations. They were a lovely match for each other, and although I was cheering for Imogen for every page, the two of them made my little bi heart so happy. Their romance really was a resonant and joyful one, something that Albertalli has nearly mastered writing.

All that being said, I had some issues with the writing that prevented me from giving Imogen, Obviously the full four-star treatment. I don’t remember enough about her other books to say how they were written (it’s been a while), but the way that she wrote these high school and college characters just felt so…off. She just peppered in all of the gen z slang into her dialogue whenever possible, and none of it felt natural or genuine. It felt like somebody observing gen z and/or TikTok from a distance, then trying to employ said slang from memory. It all felt so clunky, and at times, as much as I hate to say it, painful. I’m pretty sure that nobody says “discoursing” as a verb for discussing discourse. As fantastic as the rest of the book was, the cringy nature of the writing put me off from fully enjoying it.

All in all, a beautiful and necessary depiction of bisexuality that was hindered by its attempt to capture gen z speak, but excelled in every other department. 3.75 stars, rounded up to 4!

Imogen, Obviously is a standalone, but Becky Albertalli is also the author of the Simonverse (Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda, Leah on the Offbeat, and Love, Creekwood) and Kate in Waiting. she is also the co-author of What If It’s Us and Here’s to Us (with Adam Silvera) and Yes, No, Maybe So (with Aisha Saeed).

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 (8/15/23) – Nightbirds

Posted on by madeline @ The Bookish Mutant

Happy Tuesday, bibliophiles!

I’ve seen this novel around a fair bit ever since it came out, both in the blogosphere and from our queen Amie Kaufman, who co-hosted the podcast Pub Dates with Kate J. Armstrong. It seemed like a more unique YA fantasy concept, and the 20’s-inspired setting intrigued me, and…okay, who wasn’t looking at that gorgeous cover? Now that I’ve read it, I can say that I enjoyed it, but I came away with mixed feelings—Nightbirds was a well-crafted fantasy in terms of worldbuilding, but its characters and general fence-sitting about what it wanted to say slightly put me off.

Enjoy this week’s review!

Nightbirds (Nightbirds, #1) – Kate J. Armstrong

In Simta, no one is more sought after than the Nightbirds. Long ago, these girls from the Great Houses were bestowed with the magic of witches, and with a kiss, they can grant that power to anyone who wishes to wield it. Matilde, Sayer, and Æsa are this season’s Nightbirds, but they have already learned that they will only ever be seen and treated as disposable. Yearning for something more to life, they stumble upon an underground networks of witches—witches whose powers come fro outside of the Great Houses, and are hidden from sight from the government. With the knowledge that their power will not be suppressed, the three Nightbirds set out to make things right.

TW/CW: misogyny, fantasy violence, murder, death, past mentions of torture, near-death situations

I came to this book mainly from the word of Amie Kaufman, who also happened to release a 1920’s-inspired YA fantasy this year. And while I did enjoy Nightbirds as a whole, the more I thought about it, the more drawbacks I found. If you’re torn between the two, stick with The Isles of the Gods.

Let’s start with the best part of the novel, though: the worldbuilding at the atmosphere! The Jazz Age inspiration was heavy, but it was executed incredibly; the worldbuilding, from the hidden magic to the forces trying to suppress it, was impeccably-crafted, with not a single stone unturned in terms of the intricacies of Simta and Armstrong’s world as a whole. It was a world that felt genuinely fun to be in—there was so much to explore along with the three main characters, and I enjoyed every minute of it.

All that wouldn’t have been possible with Armstrong’s atmospheric writing. There were other markers about Nightbirds that signaled it as a debut novel (more on that later), but for a first novel, the writing in this novel was fantastic! It’s the kind of writing that doesn’t just immerse you in the world, but dunks you headfirst into it with its vivid, vibrant imagery. Armstrong’s writing was so clear that I could visualize the world of Nightbirds almost cinematically, every scene played out like it already had a screen adaptation. The steady pacing added to that effect as well—it had a great balance of political intrigue, action, and down time to keep me intrigued for most of the novel.

However, the multiple POVs were an issue for me for most of the novel. The worst crimes that a multi-POV book can commit is not marking which POV the chapter is from, and switching POVs without warning in the middle of a chapter. Nightbirds was guilty of both. With these kinds of books, it’s often a struggle to pick out one character’s voice from another, but the third-person POV remedied that slightly. Even so, it was maddening trying to feel my way through the chapter and remember whose POV was being focused on. And speaking of the characters, they were in some serious need of being fleshed-out. Other than Matilde, whose personality was being entitled and stubborn, I could barely get a read on both Sayer and Æsa beyond what the synopsis said about them. Aside from Matilde, they had hardly any distinctive features, personalities, or traits, which made the whole multiple-POV mess all the more maddening. All of it could have been prevented with some chapter headers and giving the characters more life—it really wouldn’t have been all that hard of a fix.

And for a book that was advertised as being a feminist fantasy, Nightbirds really didn’t seem to know what it wanted to say. For a plot centered around an archaic system built on exploiting teenage girls, you would think that there would at least be some commentary on it. All we really got was a hollow, vague sense of taking back power, but there was no real call to action to do just that; aside from the revelation of the underground network of witches whose magic hasn’t been suppressed by the fantasy patriarchy, there’s hardly any real questioning of the system or realizing that there is a way to reform it and break away from it entirely. It’s like the book equivalent of thinking that you’re a feminist just because you post some instagram infographics on your story every once in a while and do nothing else. It’s saying “smash the patriarchy!” and then sitting comfortably and doing nothing. That’s basically what Matilde’s “character arc” ended up being, honestly. I know there’s probably better words to describe it, but the one that comes to mind is just…white woman-y. I guess I missed the queer rep (WHERE??? I saw no indication of any queerness 😭), but except for that and the conveniently described token side character of color, there was no hint of intersectionality. And no, I’m not saying that every book has to have an impeccably diverse cast, but for a book that billed itself as feminist and supposedly centered around tearing down oppressive systems, I feel like intersectionality should be taken far more into consideration. Nightbirds just came off as more white feminism than actual feminism.

All in all, a fantasy debut with stunning worldbuilding, but that was dragged down by its lack of fleshed-out characters and hardly any hint of the feminist messaging that it advertised. 3.5 stars.

Nightbirds is the first in the Nightbirds duology, which continues with the forthcoming sequel Fyrebirds. Nightbirds is Kate J. Armstrong’s debut novel.

Today’s song:

this is just such a GROOVE

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 (8/1/23) – Magonia

Posted on by madeline @ The Bookish Mutant

Happy Tuesday, bibliophiles, and happy August! I always look forward to my birthday month, but…I could do without everybody posting that one Taylor Swift song (sorry swifties my neighbors blasted it over and over when I was in school and I can’t take it any longer 😭)

This book has been on and off my TBR over the years; I feel like I put it on my list when I first got Goodreads, lost interest in it a few years later, then got it recommended to me by a friend who saw it on another list. The reviews don’t lie: Magonia really was a strange book, but despite some of its flaws, its strangeness was 100% its strength.

Enjoy this week’s review!

Magonia (Magonia, #1) – Maria Dahvana Headley

All of her life, Aza Ray Boyle has had a mysterious lung disease, incapable of being diagnosed by all kinds of doctors. She can barely breathe or speak without assistance, even with the copious medications prescribed to her. But recently, Aza has begun to see giant ships in the sky. Her parents chalk these visions up to her medication, but Aza knows that something in the sky is waiting for her—and it is. But after a freak accident leads her family to believe that she is dead, Aza is swept up into the world of Magonia, a world of skyfaring ships where she can finally breathe. But as she discovers her hidden Magonian heritage, she discovers that this idyllic world in the clouds is not as peaceful as she once thought—and that the world below may be in danger…

TW/CW: fantasy violence, death/funeral, themes of grief

To put it plainly, Magonia was a weird book. For a YA book that was published in 2015, it feels a lot more daringly weird than most YA books got back then and still do today. Magonia was Maria Dahvana Headley’s first YA novel, and it shows, but not necessarily in a bad way; despite its flaws, it was a refreshingly quirky addition to the pantheon of early to mid-2010’s YA.

I’ve seen this book shelved as having disability rep, and that’s part of why I decided to pick it up again. Aza has a lung disease, but it’s fictional; all of her life, doctors cannot seem to diagnose her, until it is discovered that the disease happens to be a whole bird growing in her chest that factors into the book about a third of the way through. And…I’m torn on whether or not to call it disability rep. On the one hand, the descriptions of Aza’s life before the bird revelation match a lot of other stories I’ve read about people and fictional characters with breathing-related illnesses and disabilities, what with being constantly in and out of hospitals and struggling to fit in with one’s peers. And on the other hand…it feels a little strange, as a disabled reader, to categorize having a fictional ailment of bird growing out of your chest as a disability, especially since the problem resolves itself almost immediately once Aza arrives in Magonia. My issue isn’t that this plotline exists—it’s the category of others labeling this as disability rep that feels questionable to me.

That aside, Magonia was a refreshing novel to read! Especially for a YA book published in 2015, when the industry was so mired in self-serious Hunger Games rip-offs, the unapologetic weirdness of this novel felt like a breath of fresh air, even almost a decade later. We need more whimsy like this in YA—it shouldn’t just be reserved for middle grade. The whimsy doesn’t just die when you hit the age of 13! (Or, at least, it shouldn’t.) I loved the world that Headley created, full of winged people, whales that swim through the sky and giant bats (CREATURES YEAAAAAAAH) and massive frigates that patrol the skies. Headley put so much love into this part of the worldbuilding, and it shone through in every page. It did not hold back in its magical fun, and I am so much better for it.

I’ve seen a lot of reviews saying that they didn’t like how Aza’s voice was written, and to a point, I can understand it. From the looks of it, most of Headley’s body of work is aimed at adults, so it makes sense that she felt as though she had to tone it down and write Aza in a certain, “teenagery” way. But for the most part, I feel like it worked—Aza really did read like she was really 15 going on 16: despite her circumstances, she was still an angsty teenager, but that wasn’t her whole personality. She reacted to her situation as a real teenager would, had her priorities set where a teenager would have them. Aza really was a teenager, and teenagers tend to over-exaggerate things sometimes. It wasn’t all over-exaggeration, though—it was just the right amount of drama and realistically being frightened by everything going on around her, because who wouldn’t be?

However, as engrossed I was with the whimsical fantasy worldbuilding, I found the ending to be quite messy. I get that it’s the first book in the series, but Magonia could have been wrapped up in a much neater and more cohesive way. Details that were only given in the last 50 pages suddenly had utmost importance to the plot, all of the loose ends got even looser, and everything felt generally rushed. Looking back on how much I enjoyed the worldbuilding, it feels like a case of paying too much attention to that and not enough to how the plot would actually play out. Everything felt crammed together and sped through in such an unceremonious way. It’s why I felt like I couldn’t quite give this novel a full 4 stars; the ending made the rest of the intricacies earlier into a rushed mess.

All in all, a refreshingly weird YA fantasy that excelled in its whimsical worldbuilding, but failed in the messy pacing of the ending. 3.75 stars, rounded up to 4!

Magonia is the first in the Magonia series, followed by Aerie. Maria Dahvana Headley is also the author of The Mere Wife, Queen of Kings, Some Gods of El Paso, and many other novels and short stories. Headley also translated a modern version of Beowulf in 2020.

Today’s song:

NEW WILCO JUST DROPPED?????

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

The Bookish Mutant’s Books for Disability Pride Month (2023 edition) ♿️

Posted on by madeline @ The Bookish Mutant

Happy Friday, bibliophiles!

Here in the U.S., July is Disability Pride Month! Although I’ve seen some more recognition for it in the past few years, I find myself saying this over and over—disability issues are left behind in intersectional feminism far too often. The larger representation in media of disabled people as otherwise white and cishet, the lack of accessibility at many pride events, and the hurdles that most disabled students have to go through in order to get accommodations at school is proof. And yet, around 27% of Americans have some sort of disability—myself included. As the literary world has slowly shown more stories with disabled characters, it’s more important than ever to uplift disabled voices.

Like some of my other themed lists this year, I’ve decided to expand it beyond YA, because I’d be remiss if I didn’t include some of the amazing Adult and MG reads with disabled rep over the years. I’ve separated all of these recs by age group, and included their genres, my rating, and the type of disability rep.

(SHOUTOUT TO NOT IF I CAN HELP IT, I FINALLY HAVE A MORSEL OF SPD REP)

for my lists from previous years, click here:

  • 2022 (+ on having SPD and the lack of representation)
  • 2021

Let’s begin, shall we?

THE BOOKISH MUTANT’S BOOKS FOR DISABILITY PRIDE MONTH (2023 EDITION)

YA:

ADULT:

MIDDLE GRADE:

TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK! Have you read any of these books, and what did you think of them? What are your favorite books with disabled rep? Let me know in the comments!

Today’s song:

That’s it for this year’s Disability Pride recs! Have a wonderful rest of your day, and take care of yourselves!