Saturday, September 26, 2020

Review: The Sound of Stars by Alechia Dow

Title: The Sound of Stars
Author: Alechia Dow
Publisher: Inkyard Press
Release date: February 25th 2020
Pages: 432
Genre: Young Adult sci-fi
Source: Purchased
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Two years ago, a misunderstanding between the leaders of Earth and the invading Ilori resulted in the deaths of one-third of the world’s population. Today, seventeen-year-old Ellie Baker survives in an Ilori-controlled center in New York City. With humans deemed dangerously volatile because of their initial reaction to the invasion, emotional expression can be grounds for execution. Music, art and books are illegal, but Ellie still keeps a secret library. When young Ilori commander M0Rr1S finds Ellie’s library, he’s duty-bound to deliver her for execution. The trouble is, he finds himself drawn to human music and in desperate need of more. Humanity’s fate rests in the hands of an alien Ellie should fear, but M0Rr1S has a potential solution—thousands of miles away. The two embark on a wild and dangerous journey with a bag of books and their favorite albums, all the while creating a story and a song of their own that just might save them both.

I was super excited about this book both because I love Alechia Dow on Twitter and because the human-alien love story sounded super cool. Not only did this book meet my high expectations and tell a great story; every single detail about it is adorable and the book made me smile throughout. 

The best thing about this book are the characters. I absolutely loved both Ellie and M0Rr1s. Ellie is a fantastic character through which to explore the alien invasion; I love how well the novel blends her experience during this alien invasion with her awareness that for her, as a queer Black woman who suffers from anxiety, the world was never really safe to begin with. Her dedication to saving humanity from this alien invasion, and her simultaneous skepticism of humanity being worth saving, make for a really interesting backdrop to this species survival story. M0Rris is a little harder to connect with than Ellie since he's, ya know, an alien, but I still really loved him. The parallels between Ellie's experiences as a Black woman and M0Rris's experiences as a labmade Ilori (a second-class citizen on his home planet) are really well done, especially in conjunction with both of their relationships to their own sexuality. Their romance is adorable, and I loved them together; I do think that it moved a little fast so that part of their connection was difficult to grasp, but I also think that makes sense under the circumstances.

I also absolutely loved Dow's writing style. Dow somehow managed to make this book feel very informal or conversational, in the sense that the first-person narration seems realistic and fun, while simultaneously dropping some gorgeous one-liners on you that will make you stop and marvel. 

This book makes tons of references to books and music, and a lot of those books are YA, which made me so happy. The whole love story starts with M0Rr1S reading Ellie's copy of The Hate U Give, and I don't know what could be better than a love story grounded in love for The Hate U Give. Ellie makes references to characters from lesser-known YA novels, too, which made me so happy to see. Asides from all of these references just being super fun, they felt very affirming both in the sense of establishing YA as "real" literature (whatever that means) and of creating a connection between Ellie and the reader, so every single one of them made me super happy (except for the Harry Potter references which, ya know, didn't age well--but since Dow wrote this novel before She Who Shall Not Be Named ruined our childhoods, I can't really fault her for that). These references made The Sound of Stars read like the most ~YA~ YA novel ever, which I loved.

My only issue with the novel was the pacing. I felt like some parts in the beginning and middle were a little slow, while the ending happened REALLY fast, to the point where I felt a little lost. I'm not sure how to feel about the ending; I loved all the plot twists and how everything came together, but I still have so many questions! I feel like we need a sequel to this novel, but from what I understand, this is going to be a stand-alone...?

I highly recommend The Sound of Stars if you're looking for a sci-fi book that simultaneously explores a number of important issues and will make you smile the entire time you're reading it. Everything about this novel felt very unapologetically YA, so even the things I've critiqued (the pacing of the plot and how quickly Ellie and M0Rr1S fall in love) kind of works and just made me love it even more. I'll definitely be reading whatever Alechia Dow publishes next!

Saturday, September 12, 2020

Review: Midnight Sun by Stephenie Meyer


Title: Midnight Sun
Author: Stephenie Meyer
Publisher: Little, Brown BYR
Release date: August 4th 2020
Pages: 662
Genre: Young Adult paranormal romance
Source: Purchased
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When Edward Cullen and Bella Swan met in Twilight, an iconic love story was born. But until now, fans have heard only Bella's side of the story. At last, readers can experience Edward's version in the long-awaited companion novel, Midnight Sun. This unforgettable tale as told through Edward's eyes takes on a new and decidedly dark twist. Meeting Bella is both the most unnerving and intriguing event he has experienced in all his years as a vampire. As we learn more fascinating details about Edward's past and the complexity of his inner thoughts, we understand why this is the defining struggle of his life. How can he justify following his heart if it means leading Bella into danger?

This book feels like it should be in a category of its own; any rating would be justified because I absolutely loved and despised this book at the same time. For nostalgia and making my inner 12-year-old happy, this book gets 5 stars; for everything else, probably more like 2 stars. I pretty much hated every second of this book, but hating it made me so happy, and I wouldn't have wanted this book to be any other way.

Being in Edward's head is, in a word, terrible. He is one of the most annoying characters I've ever met. If you thought that Bella's falling in love with a boy she barely knew was bad, she actually seems much more reasonable after reading Midnight Sun because Edward is so much worse. His obsession with Bella is a lot to handle, even though I do think the book does a good job of explaining how the allure of her scent and his inability to read her thoughts create this mysterious appeal. His constant whining and self-hatred are simultaneously annoying and reasonable, since he, ya know, is a monster. Edward appears entirely incompetent and as if he would be completely useless if he wasn't able to read other people's thoughts, and especially watching him learn to understand physical attraction as a confusing and new sensation despite being 104 years old is simultaneously the most annoying and funniest thing about this book. This book did not make me like him whatsoever, but it was extremely fun to despise him while reading.

The ending of this book was so terrible to read from his perspective. It's not surprising, since we know what happens in New Moon, but it was so sad to read the ending of the first book that was so happy in the original but knowing that Edward is planning on leaving. Before reading this book, I was hoping Stephenie Meyer would rewrite the whole series from his perspective, but after reading that ending, I fully understand why she doesn't want to write New Moon from Edward's perspective, and I honestly don't know if I could handle reading it. If you're going to read this book, prepare to be emotionally gutted by the ending.

My favorite thing about this book was finding out more about the vampire world and the things Bella didn't get to see. The more detailed explanation of Alice's vision and Jasper's skills, specifically, were super cool. I loved seeing how the whole family interacted with each other, and how they have thought-conversations with Edward. Everything between the baseball scene and the terrible ending was super fun to read, and I was on the edge of my seat with suspense despite obviously knowing the outcome. Seeing what the Cullens' attempts to protect Bella looked like that we didn't get to see, since Bella wasn't with Edward for most of that, was super cool, and I especially loved seeing the way they worked together and used their individual abilities to make that happen. I wish we had gotten even more insights into the vampire world and their family dynamics!

I was expecting Stephenie Meyer to maybe have updated some elements of the story after all the critiques she's gotten, but... Midnight Sun is just as problematic as Twilight. The appropriation of Indigenous culture is just as bad in this version, and Edward's stalker-like and controlling behavior, his denigration of teenage girls other than Bella, and the generally outdated ideas of gender roles and relationships are even worse than they were in Twilight. In a way, that was frustrating to read again, but, in hindsight, anything else wouldn't have felt authentic, and maybe this can lead to some more conversation and reflection.

This book was terrible for all the same reasons Twilight is bad, and those are the same reasons that I wholeheartedly love this franchise. I think this book is required reading for anyone who loved the series when they were younger; the nostalgia alone makes it worth it, and even the parts I hated I loved to hate.

Whether you love or hate or love-hate Twilight, please consider donating to the Quileute Tribe whose culture Stephenie Meyer appropriated! They have not received any compensation for this widely successful franchise that was built on their culture and legends. Their land is at sea level and some of the tribe's homes have been destroyed by flooding, as well as being located in a tsunami zone, so they are collecting donations in order to move to higher ground. I donated the same amount of money that I spent on this book to somehow compensate for participating in the appropriation of their culture, and I would encourage you to do the same! You can find out more and donate at https://mthg.org.

Wednesday, September 02, 2020

Review: This Is My America by Kim Johnson

Title: This Is My America
Author: Kim Johnson
Publisher: Random House Children's Books
Release date: July 28th 2020
Pages: 416
Genre: Young Adult contemporary
Source: Purchased
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Every week, seventeen-year-old Tracy Beaumont writes letters to Innocence X, asking the organization to help her father, an innocent Black man on death row. After seven years, Tracy is running out of time--her dad has only 267 days left. Then the unthinkable happens. The police arrive in the night, and Tracy's older brother, Jamal, goes from being a bright, promising track star to a "thug" on the run, accused of killing a white girl. Determined to save her brother, Tracy investigates what really happened between Jamal and Angela down at the Pike. But will Tracy and her family survive the uncovering of the skeletons of their Texas town's racist history that still haunt the present?


A day after finishing this novel, I am still in awe, and struggling to express how important and how well-done This Is My America is. Part mystery novel, part exploration of the criminal (in)justice system, incarceration, and institutionalized racism, gripping and beautifully written, I can't recommend this book enough.

I am so glad to see a book that explores policing and incarceration in relationship to racism, rather than just police brutality. While of course discussions of police brutality and the state-sanctioned murder of Black people are incredibly important, these murders are just the tip of the iceberg of the broader system of policing and incarceration that are deeply tied to institutional racism. Kim Johnson does a fantastic job of illustrating how these systems affect Black families and allowing young readers to understand the history of racism in the criminal (in)justice system. It is heartbreaking to see what these systems have done not only to incarcerated people, but also to the families they leave behind, like Tracy and her family, who, regardless of the outcome of this story, will never be able to get back those 7 years that her father spent behind bars for a crime he didn't commit--and to the other families around Tracy's who will never get justice. This is such an important story for teens (and adults!) to read about.

This book does a fantastic job exploring a number of issues related to the criminal (in)justice system and racism in nuanced ways. The discussion of the idea of "good" or "not racist" white people is especially well done in relationship to Dean, Tracy's white best friend, and his family (who employ Tracy's mom). Especially the scene where Dean admits his own biases is really well-done. The novel clearly demonstrates how "good" white people abet racism and how racism is passed down in white families, encouraging important conversations about what it really means to be actively anti-racist.

Additionally, Beverly is a fascinating character who encourages important conversations. A Black woman whose dad was killed and whose brother was injured by the police, Beverly became a police officer in order to try to change the culture of policing from the inside. Other characters (especially Jamal) criticize this choice, encouraging important conversations about the possibility of police reform and how to enact change. I was a little disappointed by how neatly this conflict is wrapped up in the end, and especially since this book came out at a time when ideas about abolishing or defunding the police have become more mainstream, I could see how some people might critique that this take isn't radical enough or perpetuates the idea that there are some good cops and some bad cops, rather than critiquing the whole structure of policing. However, I think it opens up the opportunity to have really important conversations about different approaches to enacting change, especially since the whole premise of the novel illustrates the deep ties between the police and white supremacy, pushing back against the "bad apples" narrative that some discussions of police brutality rely on.

While this book is most explicitly about incarceration and criminal (in)justice, it's also a fantastic mystery novel. In order to clear both her dad's and her brother's name, Tracy launches her own investigation into the two murders. The mystery had some great twists and turns, and is a big part of what made this novel such a page-turner; especially in the second half of the book, once Tracy has revealed some secrets and found some other suspects, is super intense, and I couldn't put the book down. I especially loved how seamlessly the unveiling of the town's racist history and present is tied to this mystery element. Part of me even wishes that this book was more explicitly marketed as a mystery to attract mystery readers who might not otherwise be as willing to pick up a book marketed as a racial justice book--but regardless, if you're a fan of YA mysteries, you definitely need to pick this one up!

This Is My America is a fantastic read. With nuanced and complex characters, powerful writing, a gripping mystery, this novel makes accessible conversations around a range of topics relating to policing, incarceration, racism in the criminal (in)justice system, and white supremacy. Highly recommend!

Thursday, August 27, 2020

Review: Four Days of You and Me by Miranda Kenneally

Title: Four Days of You and Me

Author: Miranda Kenneally
Publisher: Sourcebooks Fire
Release date: May 5th 2020
Pages: 352
Genre: Young Adult contemporary
Source: Purchased
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Every May 7, the students at Coffee County High School take a class trip. And every year, Lulu’s relationship with Alex Rouvelis gets a little more complicated. Freshman year, they went from sworn enemies to more than friends after a close encounter in an escape room. It’s been hard for Lulu to quit Alex ever since. Through breakups, make ups, and dating other people, each year’s class trip brings the pair back together and forces them to confront their undeniable connection. From the science museum to an amusement park, from New York City to London, Lulu learns one thing is for sure: love is the biggest trip of all.

I absolutely love Miranda Kenneally's Hundred Oaks novels; every single book in that companion series is fantastic, and I've gotten used to knowing exactly what to expect when opening a Kenneally novel. So I was excited to see what she would write next, but also a little apprehensive about how this novel wouldn't have some of the elements I've grown to love of the Hundred Oaks novels, like the setting, the sports, and the cameos of previous novels' characters. I'm not sure if it was just because my expectations were so high because of my love for this previous series, but unfortunately I did not enjoy this one as much as the Hundred Oaks series.

I liked the sound of the format of this novel in theory, but I didn't end up being the biggest fan of the execution. In theory, it sounds super cute to follow a couple on just four individual days over four years and to see them grow and change over those years. But the novel actually intersperses the chapters on those four days with chapters about the previous year, so we actually get to read about highlights from the couple's life throughout the whole four years, just with the main emphasis being on their school trips. This isn't necessarily an issue for the story, but it felt a little strange when this book is explicitly presented to just be about four days--I think I would have preferred if the previous year's events had just been included in flashbacks and things like that rather than getting their own chapters and quite this much attention, because it took away from the originality of just narrating these four days. Additionally, this is super nitpicky, but two of the school trips last more than one day, so even just the chapters about the school trips weren't only about four days. And also, more fundamentally, do any high schools really have their students go to both New York City and London for their school trips!?? 

The characters in this novel are alright. They are decent characters, but I didn't love them as much as I loved the Hundred Oaks couples. One of my favorite things about the Hundred Oaks series is reading about each main character's passion for their respective sport and learning so much about their sport and the life of someone who dedicates their childhood to something like that. Lulu is definitely also passionate--she is a very driven graphic novel writer, and she is a vegan who advocates for animal rights--but for some reason I didn't feel her passion as much as I did the Hundred Oaks characters'. Maybe this is just because I always loved learning so much about their respective sports that I usually knew nothing about, while Lulu's passions are ones I am already much more familiar with? But for some reason, I just felt like Lulu wasn't as fleshed-out and didn't have as much personality as Kenneally's previous characters. I did, however, really like the secondary characters, and it was great to see how Lulu's friendships and relationships shifted and solidified over the four years. 

Miranda Kenneally knows how to write some great romance, and the chemistry between her characters was always one of the best things about her Hundred Oaks books. But the chemistry in this one fell flat for me. Other characters in the novel make comments about how it is clear that Lulu and Alex are destined to be together, but I just couldn't see anything like that. I actually feel like we didn't get to know Alex well enough as his own person, and that we didn't get to see enough banter or flirting between Lulu and Alex to really feel their chemistry. Maybe this is just because of the format and because the novel spanned such a long time period (by YA standards) that there wasn't enough space for these every day-types of interactions, but I just felt like something was missing. Lulu and Alex were cute together, sure, but this novel didn't have me as emotionally invested in the protagonists' relationship and rooting for them to be together as much as the Hundred Oaks novels did.

I feel bad for how negative my review sounds since I love this author, and maybe I'm not being fair by comparing this book to the Hundred Oaks novels so much. If I hadn't come in with such high expectations and the hope that this would be similar to the Hundred Oaks novels, I think I would have enjoyed it more; this novel is definitely still a cute romance with a unique format. But because of my love for Kenneally's previous books, this one just wasn't up to par. But of course I'll still read whatever Kenneally writes next, and am hoping I'll connect more with her next book again.


Monday, August 10, 2020

Review: Not So Pure and Simple by Lamar Giles

Title: Not So Pure and Simple

Author: Lamar Giles
Publisher: HarperTeen
Release date: January 21st 2020
Pages: 389
Genre: Young Adult contemporary
Source: Purchased
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Del has had a crush on Kiera Westing since kindergarten. And now, during their junior year, she’s finally available. So when Kiera volunteers for an opportunity at their church, Del’s right behind her. Though he quickly realizes he’s inadvertently signed himself up for a Purity Pledge. His best friend, Qwan, doesn’t believe anyone is worth this long of a long game. But Del’s not about to lose his dream girl. And that’s where fellow pledger Jameer comes in. He can put in the good word, but with other boys circling Kiera like sharks, Del needs to make his move now. However, with all his plotting and scheming, Del never really stops to think: What does Kiera want? No matter, though—once he gets the girl, he’s sure all will sort itself out. Right? 



This book completely took me by surprise. I was expecting it to just be a funny story about a guy accidentally taking a purity pledge to get with a girl, and it does start out that way... but then it somehow turns into a really insightful story about toxic masculinity and male entitlement, in the best way possible! Not only is this book super entertaining; its message is a really important one, especially for boys and young men.

I don't think I've ever read a book by a male author about a male protagonist that explores toxic masculinity, male entitlement, and consent in such explicit terms, and I am SO happy Lamar Giles did just that. Del is a great character to use to teach especially male readers about consent and male entitlement to women's bodies because he's not a terrible guy that you would immediately judge or write off as someone who doesn't respect women. Del considers himself a nice guy, he has female friends and, I would think, could be a relatable character for teenage boys (although I of course can't speak of that with any authority). I honestly didn't even think he was super problematic in the beginning; he was a pretty average guy, which, I mean, isn't great, but wasn't anything that would've tipped me off to how this book would end up being all about his personal growth from an ostensibly nice guy to someone who actually thinks about consent and male entitlement to women's bodies. Since I wasn't expecting it, I was extra excited when the book started addressing consent and toxic masculinity so explicitly. 

The lessons Del learns are SO important and something I haven't seen discussed in YA very much. I loved reading about the frank conversations his mother, sister, and female friends have with him. I've seen some other reviewers complain about how much of Del's realization about how men's creepy, predatory behavior affects women depends on him learning about his sister's experiences, and of course the idea that men would only learn to care about women because they have a mother/daughter/sister is problematic. But I actually really enjoyed seeing Del's family discuss these topics so openly, and I was especially impressed with the way Del's mom calls out his dad for his own participation in toxic masculinity and for enabling Del's entitlement to women's bodies; this conversation within their family, in my opinion, was really important for helping us understand how toxic masculinity is perpetuated by father-son relationships and can be passed down through generations. I also loved how Shianne explicitly calls Del out for the whole "I'm a nice guy, therefore I deserve a reward/am entitled to women"; all of the women in this book are fantastic characters.

The discussion of sex education is really well done as well, and this book clearly shows the consequences of abstinence-only sex ed. I was especially impressed with the discussion of teen pregnancy and how the lack of sex education intersects with society stigmatizing sexually active girls and teen moms but fails to hold boys accountable. 

And finally, the racial politics of this novel are great; most of the characters in this book are Black, and their Blackness and experiences of racism definitely inform their conversations and ideas, without this becoming a problem novel about racism. I only wish that the connections between race and gender had been explored a little more; for example, Cressie has a YouTube channel where she talks about feminist issues, but we never see her talk about her experiences as a Black woman specifically, and Shianne, a Black teen mom, never speaks about the specific racialized sexism Black women, especially Black teenage moms, experience. 

The only element of this book I wasn't the biggest fan of was the discussion of religion. I'm not sure what the alternative would be, since bashing religion would probably alienate a lot of readers, but I didn't like how the pastor in this book basically gets a free pass for the problematic ideas around sex and purity he perpetuates and his borderline abusive behavior because he's simply "from another time." I do think the discussion of religion was important and necessary for the storyline, and I understand why this book went with the "few bad apples" route rather than holding organized religion more broadly accountable for its role in perpetuating gendered violence, but I do wish the pastor's actions had been condemned more explicitly. 

I can see how some people might critique this book for being too didactic, and I could see how, for some female readers who already understand these dynamics, this might not be the most entertaining. But I personally still really enjoyed this book; it's a really quick and easy read, the writing style is unique and fun, and it's difficult to put down, so I do recommend it for anyone. I personally was incredibly happy when I finished this book just because I think it's so important and I was so glad to see a YA novel address these topics in this way. However, I do think that this book is geared towards teenage boys and would especially recommend it for male readers; honestly, I think this should be mandatory reading for teenage boys everywhere, especially anyone who self-identifies as a "nice guy." 

Wednesday, August 05, 2020

Review: They Both Die at the End by Adam Silvera

Title: They Both Die at the End
Author: Adam Silvera
Publisher: HarperTeen
Release date: September 5th 2017
Pages: 373
Genre: Young Adult contemporary
Source: Purchased
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On September 5, a little after midnight, Death-Cast calls Mateo Torrez and Rufus Emeterio to give them some bad news: They’re going to die today.

Mateo and Rufus are total strangers, but, for different reasons, they’re both looking to make a new friend on their End Day. The good news: There’s an app for that. It’s called the Last Friend, and through it, Rufus and Mateo are about to meet up for one last great adventure—to live a lifetime in a single day.


I've been meaning to read Adam Silvera's books, and I absolutely love the title (and concept of this one)--I really hate happy endings (I know, what is wrong with me, but I will take a realistic ending that makes me bawl over a happy ending any day), so I was really excited for this one--this novel promises to break your heart, and it really does not disappoint.

While the emotions and the message were what I was expecting, the worldbuilding ended up being very different from what I'd anticipated. I was expecting this to be speculative fiction set in the future, but this book is actually set in an alternate present (in 2016 or 2017, I forget). At first, I was taken aback by that choice--I thought it was confusing and unrealistic that everything in this society is the same as in ours except that the Death-Cast exists. Especially one conversation between Rufus and Mateo, where they talk about what all will be outdated soon, which is entirely accurate for our present day, felt strange to me--how has this society made no other technological strides, but has managed to develop some kind of technology that can infallibly predict when you will die? Especially because the Death-Cast has existed for almost ten years in this alternate universe, and because society has developed lots of new businesses, such as the Last Friend App and lots of activities designed for Deckers (people living out their last days), it just seemed strange to me that everything else would be exactly the same in this world. After a while, though, I got used to this idea, and I appreciate that this alternate present, more so than a dystopian future setting, allowed Silvera to represent the lives of Latino youth in present-day New York City, in a way that really shaped the story.


Regardless of when exactly the Death-Cast were to happen, though, I wish there had been some more discussion of how exactly these predictions work. I understand that the novel focuses almost exclusively on Mateo and Rufus and is more about how Death-Cast impacts individual lives than about how it works, and it makes sense that we wouldn't know much since the characters themselves don't know how this technology works. But I couldn't help but question the practicalities of this technology. For example, I kept wondering how much receiving that Death-Cast call might impact what you do that day and therefore whether or not you die. The characters continuously mention that Death-Cast is infallible, and that there is absolutely no way to escape death once you receive the call. At the same time, though, there is a scene where one of the characters learns about world history BDC (Before Death-Cast) in school, and is asked to imagine how events such as 9/11 may have played out differently if Death-Cast had already existed, but how that would look like is never explained. If so many people who work in the same place were to receive the call, wouldn't many of them not have gone to work that day? But then, since Death-Cast is infallible, would they just have died some other way instead? While of course Death-Cast can allow you to live your last day to the fullest and can give you a chance to say goodbye, I didn't quite understand how it would impact historical events in any way. Additionally, I found the concept that you always get the call between midnight and 3am kind of strange. I understand the practicalities of this, of course--the Death-Cast employees receive a list of people to call at midnight, and then begin to make their way through the list until they finish at 3am. But, what about the people who die at, say, 1am? They might never be notified, which didn't seem to fit with the way the characters talk about not receiving the call as a surefire way to know you won't die today. While these are just details, I do wish that there had been some more exploration of how choice and fate relate in this universe, and how your choices might impact whether and how you die on a certain day.


Nonetheless, this novel is not so much about constructing a logical alternate universe, and more so about the characters and a message that applies in our universe as well. And all of that, I absolutely loved. I loved the writing and the pacing of the whole novel--the suspense was really well-done, and I was consistently paranoid about how either character could die at any moment. (This novel might not be ideal for anyone who already struggles with death-related anxiety--this same paranoia about Rufus and Mateo dying at any moment reappeared in my dreams for the next couple of nights after finishing this novel.) Even asides from the looming death of the two central characters, this is an emotional read; both Rufus and Mateo's families have tragic stories,  and the flashbacks to their circumstances and their contemporary goodbyes made me tear up throughout the novel. 


I also really loved how, in addition to switching back and forth between Mateo's and Rufus's PoVs, the reader got intermittent chapters from secondary characters or even complete strangers, who later turned out to be vaguely related to the central storylines. Those chapters really demonstrated how all of our stories connect and how seemingly small choices can really make an impact, and worked really well for the novel's message about making the most of our lives while we can.


***This next paragraph is vaguely spoiler-y, although you wouldn't be surprised by this "twist" if you've read Silvera before.***

I still haven't decided what to make of the love story or whether or not I'm sold on it. I was expecting the romance element because I know Silvera usually writes M/M love stories, but if I had come into this novel without those expectations, I think Rufus's and Mateo's first kiss (or Rufus's first suggestions that this might happen) would have taken my by surprise and it would have felt a little random in the context of the rest of the story. Part of me really likes the idea of not a love story, but something that could have been a love story if the two had had the opportunity to know each other for longer. So the elements that framed their relationship in that way, I liked, but some other parts I felt were a little overdone and a little too insta-love-y. Although I guess even those parts aren't unrealistic, since both characters know they are going to die and this is their only/last chance at love. Another part of me, though, just doesn't see Rufus and Mateo together in that way; to me, Rufus seemed like more of a big brother to Mateo before the romantic element to their relationship was introduced. It might just be my own heteronormativity that didn't allow me to see these two as romantic partners for one another (I think most people would have expected romance from a YA novel with the same concept about a boy and a girl), but I just didn't see them as compatible. I also think it could have been really cool for this novel to center a friendship between two queer boys (Rufus identifies as bisexual, and I've seen lots of other people label Mateo as gay, but I don't remember Mateo ever actually identifying as anything?). Despite all of this, I don't really mind the romantic storyline because it feels realistic, under the circumstances.

While I did have a lot of questions, I really loved this book. If you're looking for a thought-provoking  tearjerker with a unique concept, you should definitely check out They Both Die at the End. I will definitely be reading Silvera's other novels!

Monday, July 27, 2020

Review: Simon vs. The Homo Sapiens Agenda by Becky Albertalli

Title: Simon Vs. The Homo sapiens Agenda

Author: Becky Albertalli
Publisher: Balzer & Bray
Release date: April 7th 2015
Pages: 303
Genre: Young Adult contemporary
Source: Purchased
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Sixteen-year-old and not-so-openly gay Simon Spier prefers to save his drama for the school musical. But when an email falls into the wrong hands, his secret is at risk of being thrust into the spotlight. Now Simon is actually being blackmailed: if he doesn’t play wingman for class clown Martin, his sexual identity will become everyone’s business. Worse, the privacy of Blue, the pen name of the boy he’s been emailing, will be compromised. With some messy dynamics emerging in his once tight-knit group of friends, and his email correspondence with Blue growing more flirtatious every day, Simon’s junior year has suddenly gotten all kinds of complicated. Now, change-averse Simon has to find a way to step out of his comfort zone before he’s pushed out—without alienating his friends, compromising himself, or fumbling a shot at happiness with the most confusing, adorable guy he’s never met. 


I know I'm super late to this party, but... what an adorable book! I watched Love, Simon a while ago and bought this book because I loved the movie, but then never actually got around to reading it. After watching the spin-off series Love, Victor (which I loved even more than the original movie; so cute!!), I decided to finally read the book that started this franchise. And I was not disappointed!

I loved Albertalli's writing style, in particular the dialogue and Simon's internal dialogue. It took me a little time to get used to because it's different from what I usually read, but after a somewhat slow beginning, I loved everything about it. Albertalli's writing and dialogue are witty and endearing, but not in an unrealistic John-Green-type of way (not that I don't love John Green's writing--but.. I don't know any real people who talk like his characters), but in a way that felt entirely relatable and realistic. There are so many hilarious and insightful pieces of dialogue and Simon's thoughts in here that I absolutely loved. Because the writing is so great, I honestly didn't even care what happened; I'm sure this book would have been even more of a page turner if I hadn't already seen the movie and known who Blue was/how the story would end, but I couldn't put the book down regardless, because the writing is so captivating and brought elements of this story to life that the movie couldn't capture.

I also loved the characters. Simon does plenty of things that are not okay, and admits to not always being the best person, like when he realizes how little he knows about his friends' lives. But none of those flaws make him a less lovable character; he is a completely realistic teenage boy, and I loved him. Blue is also an adorable character, and I the romance and chemistry between them through their emails is incredibly well done. I also loved him family dynamic and especially his relationship with his sisters. 

To be honest, I was a little suspicious of this book because it was written by a heterosexual white woman and, if the identities were accurately represented in the movie version, it would be primarily about teens of color and a white gay boy. I was worried that this would be another case of the characters' races not even being mentioned or being mentioned in passing but having nothing to do with the story and not being addressed at al. However, I was pleasantly surprised by this book's discussion of race. This is one of the few YA books I know that were white author about a white protagonist where secondary characters' races are actually discussed and addressed in a more meaningful way than just a passing comment on someone's skin color. Race definitely still isn't discussed enough in this book, but it is addressed a few times in a way that doesn't reduce race to skin color or diversity but actually addresses the histories of racism. While of course this can't replace #ownvoices stories, I do think that this is a step in the right direction in terms of what white authors can do to not just make their books "diverse," but to actually incorporate discussions of race and racism into their work. And asides from one comment about "coming out" being easier for girls, which I think is a little simplistic, I did really like the discussions of homosexuality as well.

I really loved everything about this book; this is such a cute, fun story that still addresses some important issues. I can't believe I waited this long to read it! I definitely need to catch up on the rest of the Simonverse novels.

Monday, July 13, 2020

Review: Let's Talk About Love by Claire Kann


Title: Let's Talk About Love

Author: Claire Kann
Publisher: Swoon Reads
Release date: January 23rd 2018
Pages: 304
Genre: Young Adult contemporary
Source: Purchased
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Alice had her whole summer planned. Nonstop all-you-can-eat buffets while marathoning her favorite TV shows (best friends totally included) with the smallest dash of adulting--working at the library to pay her share of the rent. The only thing missing from her perfect plan? Her girlfriend (who ended things when Alice confessed she's asexual). Alice is done with dating--no thank you, do not pass go, stick a fork in her, done. But then Alice meets Takumi and she can't stop thinking about him or the rom com-grade romance feels she did not ask for (uncertainty, butterflies, and swoons, oh my!). When her blissful summer takes an unexpected turn and Takumi becomes her knight with a shiny library-employee badge (close enough), Alice has to decide if she's willing to risk their friendship for a love that might not be reciprocated--or understood.  

This is such an important book! I don't know many YA books (or any books) about asexual teens, and definitely none about a Black biromantic asexual girl, so the sheer existence of this novel is great to see. When you add a unique and entertaining writing style and a lovable main character into the mix, you end up with an equally fun and important novel.

I loved Alice's character and the writing style of this novel, which are hard to separate because, even though the novel is written in third-person, the writing is very much shaped by Alice's personality. I would love to be Alice's friend; even though she makes her fair share of mistakes, she is one of the most endearing characters I've read about in a while. Her strong personality, penchant for all things cute and romantic, and pop culture-influenced way of speaking closely shape the writing, which is very informal, using internet-speak (for lack of a better term?) and tons of parentheses for additional commentary. I could see how this writing style would get on some people's nerves, but I loved it!

I loved the secondary storylines of this novel, primarily the exploration of Alice's relationship with her friends and her parents. Both her friends and her parents were infuriating at times, but their relationships were definitely realistic. I especially liked the exploration of Alice's jealousy of the relationship between Feenie and Ryan, her two best friends who are engaged to each other--even though Feenie pissed me off throughout the novel, to be honest. Why was she mad at Alice for leaving a party after she went upstairs to go have sex with Ryan (honestly, do you really need to have sex with your fiancé, whom you live with, in someone else's bedroom while you are at a party with both him and your best friend??), especially when Alice was cornered by a scary abrasive guy at this party after her friends left her? I was not the biggest fan of the way Feenie was not held accountable for this and the way the novel made it seem like both Feenie and Alice made mistakes, because yes, but.... I was 100% team Alice. But regardless, the exploration of these conflicts was realistic and well done.

Since I'm not asexual, I cannot judge the accuracy of the portrayal of asexuality, but I will say that I learned a lot about asexuality by reading this novel, and I think someone who doesn't know a lot about asexuality would really benefit from Alice's explanations of her sexuality. I was especially interested in the way Alice navigated her relationships with partners who are not asexual, and I'm not sure what to make of the novel's take on this. In the beginning, Alice's ex-girlfriend Margot breaks up with Alice because Alice does not want to have sex with her and Margot wants to be with someone who actively desires her. In the process, Margot does say some ignorant things about it being unnatural not to desire sex, which is of course aphobic, but asides from these statements, I don't know how to feel about the novel's vilification of her character. I do think that sexual incompatibility is a legitimate issue and that wanting to be with someone you are sexually compatible with makes sense. Even though I of course understand that Alice shouldn't need to have sex just to please her partner, I also don't know if you can expect an allosexual person to give up sex in order to date someone asexual, especially if feeling sexually desired by their partner is important to them. To me, this seemed like a legitimate reason for Alice and Margot to not be compatible and to break up, so I was a little taken aback by the novel's vilification of Margot's decision as a refusal to accept Alice as she is. Is this just my allosexual bias/privilege talking? This seems like a complicated issue with no easy answers to me.

I also had mixed feelings about Alice's and Takumi's relationship. On the one hand, I thought they were super cute together, and I loved the exploration of romance as separate from sex. On the other hand, their relationship moves really fast, and did seem a little insta-love-y to me--or maybe not insta-love, but insta-we are best friends together 24/7 now, since they do take a while to actually get together. And, honestly, if it hadn't been for the way this works in conjunction with the exploration of asexuality, this level of romance would have been a little too much to handle. In some ways, though, it felt like the novel was self-aware in this sense, since Feenie calls Alice out on abandoning her friends and spending every day with Takumi as soon as they meet, so maybe this was an intentional exploration of Alice's character. Regardless, I did like the romance; it's very sweet, even if it moves very quickly. I do wish, though, that the ending had been less rushed--especially since Takumi's handling of Alice's asexuality is contrasted to Margot's, I would have liked to see how they handle this as their relationship progresses. Takumi (who is allosexual) saying he's okay with sex not being a part of your relationship seems easy enough at first, but harder to actually deal with in a long-term relationship, so especially because a nuanced exploration of this seemed to be missing from the beginning of the novel, I would have liked to see this discussed in more detail at the end. 

Regardless of these smaller issues, this novel definitely sparks a lot of interesting conversations about asexuality (not to mention its discussion of race, feminism, and biromanticism). Alice is a lovable character, and Kann's writing style and voice are very entertaining. I'm definitely going to check out Kann's newer novel soon!

Tuesday, July 07, 2020

Review: Blanca & Roja by Anna-Marie McLemore

Title: Blanca & Roja

Author: Anna-Marie McLemore
Publisher: Feiwel & Friends
Release date: October 9th 2018
Pages: 375
Genre: Young Adult; magical realism; retelling
Source: Purchased
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The del Cisne girls have never just been sisters; they’re also rivals, Blanca as obedient and graceful as Roja is vicious and manipulative. They know that, because of a generations-old spell, their family is bound to a bevy of swans deep in the woods. They know that, one day, the swans will pull them into a dangerous game that will leave one of them a girl, and trap the other in the body of a swan.

But when two local boys become drawn into the game, the swans’ spell intertwines with the strange and unpredictable magic lacing the woods, and all four of their fates depend on facing truths that could either save or destroy them. 




Anna-Marie McLemore's books are one of a kind. Their books took a little while to grow on me--when I first read When the Moon Was Ours, my first McLemore book, I had no idea what to make of it, other than thinking it was beautiful and confusing, since their books are so different from what I'm used to reading. But if you go in with no expectations and just accept the queer, magical realism-influenced retellings McLemore writes for what they are, I think there's no way not to love them.

Blanca and Roja are the youngest daughters in the del Cisne family, a family that was cursed by swans a long time ago to always have two daughters, one of whom will survive as a girl while the other is turned into a swan. While we get some speculation as to how this came about, there is no explanation of this "magic"; you just have to accept that this is the way things are for Blanca and Roja. And even though this might seem like a strange idea for a story, it makes for a very compelling read that allows McLemore to explore sisterly love, colorism, gender identity, and much more.

I never know what how to review the characters of McLemore's novels, because I wouldn't say that I like any of them or that any of them are realistic or fully developed, but those stock terms just don't really apply to McLemore's stories. Blanca and Roja just are, and it works. The secondary characters are similarly clouded by mystery and magic, and I loved the way the narration switches between the four central characters.

McLemore's unique story allows for a powerful exploration of how colorism deeply shapes a small, predominantly white town's perception of this Latinx family, as well as Latinx communities themselves. Blanca, with her blonde hair and golden complexion, can sometimes pass for white, and abides by societal expectations, while Roja, with her brown skin, red hair, and rebellious attitude, is feared and reviled by the town. McLemore beautifully explores how deeply these differences shape their experiences, their relationship with one another, and their relationship with their parents. My only issue with the character building is the family's assumption that because Blanca is the more conventionally beautiful (by white beauty standards), more demure and "respectable" sister, that she would be spared by the swans and that they would take Roja, the rebellious sister, instead. Wouldn't the swans want Blanca, the sister who is perceived as "better," especially because she would fit in better with the white swans? I was confused by this element of the world building.

McLemore also weaves explorations of gender and queerness into their stories in a very unique way. Page, Blanca's love interest, is a non-binary transgender boy who uses both male and female pronouns. While Page's gender is not the central topic of the novel, the text makes space for some important conversations between Blanca and Page exploring nonbinary identities.

What really stands out about this novel, as with all of McLemore's novels, is the writing. Even in the beginning, when I honestly had no idea what was going on, I enjoyed every single one of McLemore's beautiful words; their writing is the kind you can get lost in regardless of the story--even though they always do lead you back to a fantastic story.

If you enjoy magical realism, or if you're looking for something different, or if you appreciate beautiful writing, or if you like fairy tale retellings, or if you like queer books (so... basically everyone?), I highly recommend this book! I need to catch up on the McLemore novels I haven't read yet.

Friday, July 03, 2020

Review: The Inexplicable Logic of My Life by Benjamin Alire Sánez

Title: The Inexplicable Logic of My Life
Author: Benjamin Alire Sáenz
Publisher: Clarion Books
Release date: March 7th 2017
Pages: 452
Genre: Young Adult contemporary
Source: Purchased
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Sal has always been certain of his place with his adoptive gay father and their loving Mexican-American family. But now his own history unexpectedly haunts him, and life-altering events force him and his best friend, Samantha, to confront issues of faith, loss, and grief.

Suddenly Sal is throwing punches, questioning everything, and discovering that he no longer knows who he really is—but if Sal’s not who he thought he was, who is he?  



I really appreciated Saénz's Aristotle and Dante for all the important contributions it made to YA, even if I was a little bored by the lack of plot at times, and it seems like writing really beautiful, important novels that nonetheless drag a little bit is Saénz's thing. His writing is beautiful, straight-forward but lyrical, and the characters and relationships he explores are really powerful. But even though I understand this isn't a plot-driven novel, there were points where I had to push myself to keep reading because it just felt like nothing was happening, so I have mixed feelings about this one as well.

Like in Aristotle and Dante, Saénz beautifully explores friendship and family. I loved reading about Sal's relationship with his dad, who is literally the most perfect YA dad that has ever existed. They not only have a father-son relationship but also a great friendship, and they talk about almost everything with one another. This was especially powerful in relationship to this novel's exploration of queerness and masculinity; the set-up of having Sal figure out how to stand up for and defend his father against his peers' homophobia in a way that doesn't resort to masculinist violence is really well-done. The novel also does a fantastic job of decentering biological family relations and demonstrating the importance of non-biological kinship, both between Sal and his adoptive dad and between his dad's relationship to his friends Sam and Fito, neither of whom have supportive parents and for whom he becomes a father figure. I also loved Sal's friendship with Sam and Fito, and I was especially glad that the novel showed a heterosexual guy being platonic friends with both a heterosexual girl and a gay guy that actually stays platonic. Asides from Sal's dad's storyline, there is absolutely no romance in this novel, which was great to see because of the way it allowed us to focus on family, kinship, and friendship.

While the novel does a great job of discussing masculinity and homosexuality, its discussion of race is somewhat lacking. The premise of a white boy who was adopted by a Mexican family could have opened up a lot of important conversations, and I thought the exploration of Sal's anger at being called a gringo because it limits his ability to fully feel like a part of his family is well-done. However, the message that Sal is Mexican because his family is Mexican forecloses any meaningful conversations around whiteness. Sal being culturally Mexican does not mitigate his white privilege, which is never acknowledged. Additionally, Sal's family's race is never really addressed, i.e. we know nothing about their relationships to whiteness, indigeneity, and Afro-Latinidad. This premise could have made for some important discussions of whiteness by exploring the racial anxieties of a white character who doesn't identify with whiteness, but the implications of this are left unexplored.

***This paragraph has some spoilers (but none about the main plot).***
I wish Sam's character had had some more development over the course of the novel, and that her experience of sexual assault had been explored in more detail. Even though Sam and Sal's friendship is really beautiful, Sam can be a little irritating. She has no female friends and keeps talking about how annoying other girls are, and even though her desire for male attention is problematized throughout the novel, her disregard for other women is never discussed, and I wish we had seen some character development there. Additionally, I was really frustrated with how this novel handles sexual assault. Sam's boyfriend Eddie attempts to rape Sam at a party, and she escapes and calls Sal to come to her rescue. Later, Sal sees Sam talking to Eddie at school, and comes up to them to tell him to leave Sam alone, but Sam slaps Sal for interfering in her conversation and explains that Eddie was apologizing for "hurting" her. The message ends up being that Sal was wrong for trying to protect Sam from her attempted rapist since Eddie was apologizing, as if he obviously deserved forgiveness or as if "apologizing" for sexually assaulting someone somehow made it okay. The book also never refers to the attempted rape as attempted rape or sexual assault, but just calls it Eddie "hurting" Sam, and Sam does not at any point struggle with moving on from this experience. This might've just been because the novel is written from Sal's male perspective, but I really wish Sam's experience of sexual assault was actually addressed as such and explored as the traumatic event that it is.

Asides from these more political critiques, I just found myself a little bored at times while reading this novel. I feel a little strange calling this a character-driven and not plot-driven novel because there is actually a LOT that happens over the course of this novel, but the actual events aren't the focus; they're more so just catalysts to explore these characters and their relationships. I usually like character-driven novels, but at times this novel just dragged a little. It's 450 pages long, and even though admittedly, the chapters are really short and there's not actually as much text as you'd expect from that amount of pages, it still felt like a little much. In hindsight, I appreciate every element of the novel and wouldn't want to cut anything, but while I was reading I frequently had to push myself to keep going because it just felt slow at times.

My review is ending up sounding really negative because there were definitely some things that bothered me about this book, but I did really like it overall. It's a beautifully written story that explores family and friendship in new and important ways, and I'm really glad I read it. This might just be one of those books that you're a little bored by while reading it, but that you really appreciate once you've finished it. Regardless, if you liked Aristotle and Dante, you should definitely check this one out as well--but if Aristotle and Dante was already too slow-paced for you, this one probably isn't for you either.

Tuesday, June 30, 2020

Review: The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes by Suzanne Collins

Title: The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes

Author: Suzanne Collins
Publisher: Scholastic
Release date: May 19th 2020
Pages: 517
Genre: Young Adult dystopian
Source: Purchased
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It is the morning of the reaping that will kick off the tenth annual Hunger Games. In the Capitol, eighteen-year-old Coriolanus Snow is preparing for his one shot at glory as a mentor in the Games. The once-mighty house of Snow has fallen on hard times, its fate hanging on the slender chance that Coriolanus will be able to outcharm, outwit, and outmaneuver his fellow students to mentor the winning tribute. The odds are against him. He’s been given the humiliating assignment of mentoring the female tribute from District 12, the lowest of the low. Their fates are now completely intertwined—every choice Coriolanus makes could lead to favor or failure, triumph or ruin. Inside the arena, it will be a fight to the death. Outside the arena, Coriolanus starts to feel for his doomed tribute . . . and must weigh his need to follow the rules against his desire to survive no matter what it takes.  


I probably should have read the description for this book in order to save me this disappointment. When I like a series or an author, I will usually read their new book without reading the back cover or any kind of description because I like to go in not knowing anything about what's going to happen. So all I knew that this was a Hunger Games prequel, which I was excited about. If I had realized beforehand that this was a villain origin story for President Snow, I would have been much less interested in the novel, because the whole concept just doesn't seem necessary--I probably would've still read it, but I would've gone in with much lower expectations. This way, I was so disappointed once I realized this novel was about a young President Snow.

I'm not even sure how to review this book because most of my issues with it weren't with the execution or how this story was told, but just the premise of the novel. Out of all of the stories set in this universe Collins could've told, out of all the characters who could've gotten a background story.... why this one? 

I'm honestly confused about what the point of this story was. Are we supposed to be more understanding and sympathetic with President Snow? It didn't seem like it to me, because Coriolanus really isn't a sympathetic character at any point. From the beginning of the novel, he only thinks and cares about himself and is constantly using people to get what he wants. He claims to love Lucy Gray, but he really sees her more as his property than as an equal, and his jealousy and possessiveness of his partner in conjunction with his future or emerging violence as a leader make him somewhat of a poster child for toxic masculinity. In the beginning of the novel, he is questioning the morality of the Hunger Games and the way this world is set up, but clearly he abandons those qualms later in life, so I really didn't get what the point of any of that was. Was that supposed to make us hope for a different outcome than the one we know is coming? Was it supposed to make us realize he wasn't all bad? I'm sorry, but I don't want to empathize with President Snow.

The one thing that I did like about this book was getting to learn more about the history of the Hunger Games. The tenth Hunger Games look VERY different from the Hunger Games we saw in the original novel; they are lacking all of the spectacle and technology that made them what we know them to be. It was interesting to see how they developed and how the elements we saw in the original novels came to be. Seeing the roots of the rebel movement in the original series develop in District 12 was also interesting, and I liked seeing some of the rebel songs and acts of rebellion that will become important in the future take shape here.

However, this background info wasn't enough to carry the story, which is honestly just... boring. Especially the actual Hunger Games are excruciatingly boring, both because they are lacking the spectacle of the future Hunger Games and about half of the characters just die from starvation or exhaustion, and because we read about them from Coriolanus's view as a spectator, rather than actually being on the ground in the Games. The second half that takes place after the Games is more interesting than the first, but still not particularly interesting. You could say that this novel is an interesting exploration of this world and how it came to be, and a discussion about human nature and power in relation to Coriolanus's character development... but it just isn't a fun read in any way. Since not much really happens, this book probably could've been 200 pages shorter than it is.

***This paragraph contains spoilers, although I guess they're not that spoiler-y because we all know what will become of Coriolanus Snow!??***
The ending is super confusing. On the one hand, I'm glad it is clear that, at the end of the novel, Coriolanus is unequivocally evil, because the alternative of still trying to make us empathize with him would have been worse. On the other hand... the ending happens wayyy too quickly; I had no idea what was happening half the time, and what happened between him and Lucy Gray at the end just didn't make any sense. Since their relationship was the focus of most of the novel, I think we needed some more actual exploration of what happened between them and how that relates to Coriolanus's embracing of Capitol values.

All in all, this book was really hard to get through. I felt like I had to finish it, but I put it down so many times because I was bored, and I think it took me almost two weeks to get through it. I really just can't get over the fact that, instead of writing a background story from one of the many beloved characters from these novels, or re-writing part of this series from someone else's perspective, or writing literally anything else, Collins decided to give us over 500 pages about a young President Snow being slightly less evil and becoming progressively more evil. I just feel like this is a story no one really needed.


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