It's not every day that I read a book that destroys me so much that I go from laughing at the insanely dark humor to gasping to tearing up and then prIt's not every day that I read a book that destroys me so much that I go from laughing at the insanely dark humor to gasping to tearing up and then promptly calling up a friend to rant about the entire thing because I'm in such dire emotional distress, all within the span of 2 hours. But this book did all those things and more.
From a writer perspective, I'm obsessed with how Torrefranca pulled this off. My little reader heart, on the other hand, is absolutely crushed.
The shining point of this series is its characters. Don't get me wrong, the worldbuilding is unique enough without the usage of magic, and this book in particular highlights the Underground rebel group in a way that serves to build on the overarching stakes. But even more so, this new perspective this book offers—both in new POVs & settings—builds tension between the characters themselves. In a time of war, where violence is rampant, their relationships, loyalties, and values are put to the test in so many ways. The friendships & relationships they’ve forged in both the first book and the start of this one make the matter so much more complicated, especially when Yahshi & Vell find themselves on opposite sides of the war from their fellow Academy graduates.
This book also brought romance into the series—and some pretty tough situations to go with it. To what extent do you go to protect the person you love when your very livelihood, and all you’ve ever known, is on the line? Mel doesn’t just touch on this, but delves into the mixed emotions of a couple facing the costs of their romance. It added a layer of depth to a trope that’s somewhat overdone, and I appreciated that. The characters were never one-dimensional, but fully fleshed out beings with values and traumas of their own, and seeing yourself in every single one of them makes every scene hit all the more harder emotionally.
Overall, I went into this book with high expectations, and I was not disappointed. It’s one of those books that’s insanely complex and completely takes you on an emotional rollercoaster, diverting from anything you’d ever expect, but still manages to be deep and thought-provoking. Would recommend!
(Special thanks to Lost Island Press for a digital advance reader copy in exchange for an honest review. All thoughts are my own)...more
From the first page, it grabbed my interest and swept me away on a thrilling adventure. At first, I read the book simply for thThis book is brilliant.
From the first page, it grabbed my interest and swept me away on a thrilling adventure. At first, I read the book simply for the ride - rather out of pure enjoyment of the suspense and action rather than the themes or characters.
But as I started to delve deeper into the pages, the interwoven themes started standing out to me. And goodness, there were so many.
Friendship, how we view others and life, technology, sacrifice, grief, mental illness - it's all in CAPSULE.
The characters were amazing - and while I didn't like most of them in the beginning, they all held so much depth that made them all relatable as the story progressed.
I think my favorite part of this novel is just how Torrefranca wove all those thought-provoking themes into an action-packed, suspenseful thriller novel.
The biggest thing I didn't like was the profanity. It just didn't seem necessary to me. There was quite a bit of it, too, and while that much usually would make me stop reading, I was too invested in the story and characters to do so.
Overall, this book managed to be both suspenseful and thought-provoking, with a touch of mystery. I'd recommend it to pretty much any YA reader who doesn't mind profanity. I would definitely be interested in reading Torrefranca's other works! :)
*Disclaimer: I received a free ARC copy from Netgalley in exchange for an honest review. All opinions are my own.*
Merged review:
This book is brilliant.
From the first page, it grabbed my interest and swept me away on a thrilling adventure. At first, I read the book simply for the ride - rather out of pure enjoyment of the suspense and action rather than the themes or characters.
But as I started to delve deeper into the pages, the interwoven themes started standing out to me. And goodness, there were so many.
Friendship, how we view others and life, technology, sacrifice, grief, mental illness - it's all in CAPSULE.
The characters were amazing - and while I didn't like most of them in the beginning, they all held so much depth that made them all relatable as the story progressed.
I think my favorite part of this novel is just how Torrefranca wove all those thought-provoking themes into an action-packed, suspenseful thriller novel.
The biggest thing I didn't like was the profanity. It just didn't seem necessary to me. There was quite a bit of it, too, and while that much usually would make me stop reading, I was too invested in the story and characters to do so.
Overall, this book managed to be both suspenseful and thought-provoking, with a touch of mystery. I'd recommend it to pretty much any YA reader who doesn't mind profanity. I would definitely be interested in reading Torrefranca's other works! :)
*Disclaimer: I received a free ARC copy from Netgalley in exchange for an honest review. All opinions are my own.* ...more
I'll say it off the bat: I may harbor a slight bias, because I love Eowyn Ivey's books. The Snow Child—an impromptu read based off of the pretty coverI'll say it off the bat: I may harbor a slight bias, because I love Eowyn Ivey's books. The Snow Child—an impromptu read based off of the pretty cover—turned into one of my all-time favorite books years ago, and so when I heard she was at long last releasing another one returning to the familiar backdrop of the Alaskan wilderness, I instantly tried to get my hands on a copy. You can imagine my excitement when the e-ARC arrived in my inbox.
There's something so haunting about this book. In part a Beauty and the Beast retelling, in other parts hinting at Frankenstein or of Mice and Men, in a fairytale style it depicts the contrast between the capacity for humans to be wild and destructive, but also protective and loving.
At its core, it's a simple story. It follows two characters: Birdie, nicknamed after her constant search for freedom and peace from her rough childhood, and Emaleen, her five-year-old daughter who has a relatively isolated childhood and bears the brunt of her mother's bad decisions.
And then there's Arthur. A recluse who, despite his mysterious past, is simultaneously capable of great love and great cruelty.
In a similar style to The Snow Child, it's set in the Alaskan wilderness, where isolation poses a threat to all three central characters. And while it's not classified as horror, some scenes will stick in your head because of just how vivid and real they feel. I could feel everything—from Emaleen's desperation and fears of her mom leaving her, to Birdie's warring desires for a new life but also loyalty to her daughter, to Emaleen's fears that her younger self tried to cover dark truths about her childhood with imagination. With every step these characters took, and the impossible choices they faced, I hurt with them and hoped they would get their happy endings. Somehow.
Speaking of the ending, it was close to perfect. Ivey excels at these endings—the ones that walk the thin line between being tragic and hopeless and being hopeful and resonant. Despite how dark this story turned out to be, the ending was more uplifting than I expected.
This is a beautiful story. Read it in winter, in the dead of night, with the light of a candle, preferably with hot chocolate with little marshmallows. Or chamomile tea with honey. Iykyk.
I received a complimentary copy of this book from Random House Publishing. I was not required to provide a positive review. All opinions expressed are mine alone.
Merged review:
I'll say it off the bat: I may harbor a slight bias, because I love Eowyn Ivey's books. The Snow Child—an impromptu read based off of the pretty cover—turned into one of my all-time favorite books years ago, and so when I heard she was at long last releasing another one returning to the familiar backdrop of the Alaskan wilderness, I instantly tried to get my hands on a copy. You can imagine my excitement when the e-ARC arrived in my inbox.
There's something so haunting about this book. In part a Beauty and the Beast retelling, in other parts hinting at Frankenstein or of Mice and Men, in a fairytale style it depicts the contrast between the capacity for humans to be wild and destructive, but also protective and loving.
At its core, it's a simple story. It follows two characters: Birdie, nicknamed after her constant search for freedom and peace from her rough childhood, and Emaleen, her five-year-old daughter who has a relatively isolated childhood and bears the brunt of her mother's bad decisions.
And then there's Arthur. A recluse who, despite his mysterious past, is simultaneously capable of great love and great cruelty.
In a similar style to The Snow Child, it's set in the Alaskan wilderness, where isolation poses a threat to all three central characters. And while it's not classified as horror, some scenes will stick in your head because of just how vivid and real they feel. I could feel everything—from Emaleen's desperation and fears of her mom leaving her, to Birdie's warring desires for a new life but also loyalty to her daughter, to Emaleen's fears that her younger self tried to cover dark truths about her childhood with imagination. With every step these characters took, and the impossible choices they faced, I hurt with them and hoped they would get their happy endings. Somehow.
Speaking of the ending, it was close to perfect. Ivey excels at these endings—the ones that walk the thin line between being tragic and hopeless and being hopeful and resonant. Despite how dark this story turned out to be, the ending was more uplifting than I expected.
This is a beautiful story. Read it in winter, in the dead of night, with the light of a candle, preferably with hot chocolate with little marshmallows. Or chamomile tea with honey. Iykyk.
I received a complimentary copy of this book from Random House Publishing. I was not required to provide a positive review. All opinions expressed are mine alone. ...more
If there's anything I know about Fredrik Backman books, I know that by the end, the emotions of fictional characters will become my own.
I know that thIf there's anything I know about Fredrik Backman books, I know that by the end, the emotions of fictional characters will become my own.
I know that they will make my heart swell with the immensity of empathy and authenticity contained within their pages, the way he so accurately solidifies feelings into words.
I know that they will make me laugh out loud, both because of the way he pokes fun at the sheer idiocy of human beings, and also the way dry humor comes across sharply and unexpectedly.
My Friends did all that and more. And because of that, I could forgive it for its long, rambling lack of plot and excessive usage of tragic backstories.
This book is, at its core, almost a character study. It's about an orphaned, socially anxious artist grieving the loss of her best friend, who by sheer coincidence ends up with an art piece that's always resonated with her more than she can describe. She ends up on a train with one of the figures in the painting—a man grieving a loss of his own—and through their prolonged train ride (and resulting inevitable shenanigans) ends up hearing the story behind the painting. A tale of four friends who fought for each others' happy endings, even amidst troubled home lives. Friends who saw the good in each other before they saw the good in themselves.
And as expected, there are so many insights sprinkled in about the value of art, artistic struggles, and the intersections between art and community. There's almost this subtle sense that this book takes the perspective of an older, experienced artist passing the baton to younger talents who doubt themselves and their craft.
I stepped away from this book wanting to create something. And it takes a lot to do that, to write stories that impact readers beyond the final page.
So if you're an artist: this book is for you.
I received an advance readers copy from Netgalley and Atria Books in exchange for an honest review.
Pre-review | January 2025
So guess who spent most of her paycheck on an exclusive B&N edition preorder ...more
Another entertaining set of stories from the young authors (& my fellow classmates) at the conservatory!
My favorites were Phone Call to the Wind, SpliAnother entertaining set of stories from the young authors (& my fellow classmates) at the conservatory!
My favorites were Phone Call to the Wind, Splinters in the Sea, The Wolf and the Willow, and Treefriend.
Phone Call to the Wind packed so much emotion into a subtle and simple storyline. Everything about it was intentional, pulling on small details to demonstrate the true impact of grief and the healing power of choosing to get help and not work through the emotions alone. The pacing, especially, is such a testiment to the hard work Calissa has poured into refining her craft, and I’m so proud of her.
Splinters in the Sea pulled me in immediately with its fresh setting and almost magical-realism dilemma of a boy fighting to become a true part of his human found family while he's slowly turning to wood. While I would’ve loved to see more of the connection the main character had with his found family aside from a few brief conversations, the tension and descriptions made this project particularly memorable.
I’m not gonna lie, I did not expect to like The Wolf and the Willow as much as I did. I mean, it’s practically about a guy turning into a werewolf struggling to break the news to his girlfriend with a hefty dose of YA humor—so not exactly my cup of tea, but I think the unexpectedness of it makes it a standout story in this collection. It’s a lighthearted story that feels grounded and familiar at the same time, and the ending subverts reader expectations in a wholesome way.
Treefriend made me wish for more stories that offered glimpses of real, everyday struggles with a light magical touch—because that’s exactly what this story is. Told in two POVs, it demonstrates those mixed emotions that come with moving into a new season of life and the ways friendships change (& endure) over time. Similarly to Splinters in the Sea, I did struggle a bit with getting a feel for the two characters� friendship and would’ve loved more room to explore that.
While the nature of short stories means you’ll be jumping around quite a bit in terms of genres, characters, and settings vs rooting in just one, if you’re looking for a quick selection of reads to flip through this holiday season, I’d recommend this!...more
The version represented here is only a guess, a wish, in some ways, that my uncle, and others like him—people who felt unimportant here on earth—real The version represented here is only a guess, a wish, in some ways, that my uncle, and others like him—people who felt unimportant here on earth—realize, finally, how much they mattered and how much they were loved.
It's hard not to love a novel that opens with a dedication as heartfelt as this. There's something about a story that's written from personal experience, or for a very real person in one's life, that resonates with readers in a way not many other stories do. But keeping this in mind complicates the rating, because this story isn't exactly perfect, or even close, but does it have to be to serve its purpose?
Simply put—thematically, this story felt like it bit off more than it could chew. It bears some similarities to plotlines like It's a Wonderful Life or Before the Coffee Gets Cold in the way that it attempts to use a cast of static characters to make sense of another's life, teaching him lessons along the way. The issue was because this book is only a little over 100 pages, most of the conclusions to those mini character arcs (in a way) either felt rushed or open-ended. I would've loved to see more time spent on each of the lessons so the growth would feel more gradual. The one that personally felt the most realistic was Eddie learning to forgive his father and see his actions from another perspective, which, not gonna lie, had me tearing up a bit.
However, the writing throughout each chapter was simultaneously simplistic and insightful (somewhat reminiscent of Fredrik Backman), and I appreciated the author's insight to detail in a way that made the book feel like a slice of real life even while it was intermixed with fantastical elements.
Overall, a solid story from Albom, and I'd probably read more of his books as they all seem to deal with complex questions and human emotions.
Parents rarely let go of their children, so children let go of them. They move on. They move away. The moments that used to define them - a mother's approval, a father's nod - are covered by moments of their own accomplishments. It is not until much later, as the skin sags and the heart weakens, that children understand; their stories, and all their accomplishments, sit atop the stories of their mothers and fathers, stones upon stones, beneath the waters of their lives. ...more
This book so beautifully sums up all that I love about cats—their loyalty, their sensitivity, and their sometimes snarky attitudes despite it all. It'This book so beautifully sums up all that I love about cats—their loyalty, their sensitivity, and their sometimes snarky attitudes despite it all. It's a lighthearted read with plenty of sarcasm and realistic, slice-of-life scenes, but under the surface, it's a lovely commentary on the bonds between pets and pet owners, the love of childhood friends and family, and the weight of ordinary moments that somehow mean everything.
I saw the bright-red car driving down the road. The color of the berries on the mountain ash, the color you taught me. But I get the feeling the mountain-ash berry is a deeper color, the kind that takes your breath away. Humans are good at making colors, but they can't seem to reproduce the power of natural ones. ...more
Schmidt's books always have a way of subtly evoking a sense of childhood coziness, immense wonder, and bittersweet nostalgia I can't adequately descriSchmidt's books always have a way of subtly evoking a sense of childhood coziness, immense wonder, and bittersweet nostalgia I can't adequately describe with words, and this book is no exception. So much of it reads like a warm hug for a heart that can't sort through the tangled emotions of grief and isolation just yet. Through two realistic but also resilient (and sometimes understandably irritating) eighth-grade characters, Schmidt depicts the diversity of individual journeys to heal from occurrences out of one's control—which is something that, though I wish my younger self had discovered Schmidt's works earlier—resonates with me still.
All this to say, I will be officially adding this to my list of books to read to my future children/nieces/nephews. It's just that kind of read.
Suppose two people start out at very different places, and one heads in a small boat to a small cove in a small harbor from one direction and he's running because he has to, and the other heads to that same small boat and that same small cove in the same harbor from a completely different direction and she's not running but she goes anyway. How long will it be before they find each other? The answer? It doesn't matter, as long as they found each other. ...more
The Wednesday Wars felt like the briefest of moments where everything is right, when the sky is bright and blue and you feel the hint of childhood wonThe Wednesday Wars felt like the briefest of moments where everything is right, when the sky is bright and blue and you feel the hint of childhood wonder and you're surrounded by those you love.
The Labors of Hercules Beal felt like those moments when the hurt gets too much but there are arms outstretched, waiting and ready to catch you when you fall.
Just Like That felt like a warm hug from people you didn't know who cared, and those moments when you start to pick yourself up, start to slowly stand on your own two feet.
And Orbiting Jupiter? Well, that book's all in a category of its own.
Okay for Now feels like breathing again. It feels like those moments when you can feel your lungs expand, and your world with it. Those moments you begin to recognize that your world can grow beyond your current circumstances. That there's more to your life than just surviving and grieving circumstances just out of your control.
It's a beautiful book with a beautiful message, and once again Schmidt follows the main character's healing journey in his signature simplistic style with an underlying layer of gentleness. Using the most precise of details, he paints vivid characters that feel as authentic as real middle schoolers—snark and all. Not to mention the little Audubon & ornithology nerd in me was so excited about the significance of the birds scattered throughout and how they tied into Doug's arc.
That Saturday afternoon, I finished my Arctic Tern. He was beautiful. He was diving into the water because there was so much for him to find. The waves rolled all around him and were already starting to break, but he was going to be fine. He had so much to do. He had so much to see. He was going to go wherever he wanted to go. And he wasn't alone, you know. If you could see the picture like I saw it, there was a whole flock of Arctic terns all around him, all flying above the waves. And I'm not lying, there were a sight. ...more
A short read that's both heartbreaking, simple, and profound all at the same time. And yes, that ending ripped my heart into a million tiny pieces andA short read that's both heartbreaking, simple, and profound all at the same time. And yes, that ending ripped my heart into a million tiny pieces and stomped on the remains.
I had his back. And he had mine. That's what greater love is. ...more
This little story so accurately depicts a myriad of fears that both the elderly and their loved ones face as a life approaches its end. What do we do This little story so accurately depicts a myriad of fears that both the elderly and their loved ones face as a life approaches its end. What do we do when their brains fail before their bodies do? How will they live on? Will their stories and their journeys be preserved? And then there's that fear too, the fear that we will always fall short of even absorbing all of their life stories, that there will always be more life that's slipped through the cracks.
Backman presents these fears with so much heart and depth, demonstrating the beauty and miracle of human lives even as they come to a slow end. It's a celebration of the way people young and especially old have shaped us, and how they lead us home when we can't find our way.
This story was unexpectedly profound in all its simplicity and depiction of the messiness of life. Schmidt has a way of drawing meaningful, relevant tThis story was unexpectedly profound in all its simplicity and depiction of the messiness of life. Schmidt has a way of drawing meaningful, relevant themes out of works of literature such as Shakespeare (The Wednesday Wars) and this book is no exception, with all the insightful connections he makes between reality and mythology. The result is something with both a compelling plot and an undercurrent of enduring wisdom to support it.
It's a beautiful story of community, a tribute to the people you will find in unexpected places. The people who will come to love you far more than you know. The people who surround you and hold you together when you can't do it yourself. And while it's a tribute, it simultaneously serves as a challenge: to endure. To love. To accomplish big things, hard things.
Only you don't have to do it alone.
I wonder if what Hercules was most afraid of when he was holding up the sky wasn't that he was going to have to hold it up forever. It was that he was going to have to hold it up forever while he was by himself. That's a kind of scary thing to think about. Maybe, the stuff we hold up, we don't have to hold up by ourselves all the time. Maybe sometimes we can let someone else hold it up too. Maybe that's how we can get by. Maybe that's how we can do a whole lot better than just get by. ...more
Right off the bat, Backman introduces us to a character we can't help but take a strong disliking to. He's seProbably my favorite read of 2023 so far.
Right off the bat, Backman introduces us to a character we can't help but take a strong disliking to. He's set in his ways, hates cats, carries constant anger, and isn't afraid to speak (or shout) his mind. But as the story unfolds, the layers of Ove unfold and we realize there is much more to his bitterness than meets the eye. That etched within the creases of his hands is a tale of values and love and loss and grief that has shaped him into the person he is.
It's slow at times, and very character-driven, and you might disagree with Ove's actions and the way he tended to prematurely judge people (I certainly did), but the main thing that I appreciated about this story was from the very first page, it dripped with realism. From the way Ove spread newspapers around the seats of his car to the chaotic neighbors, Backman used tiny details to enhance the setting even more. There are no romanticized situations here. Characters die in this book. Others damage their cars and end up in hospitals for ridiculous reasons. A flicker of romance begins awkwardly. Small children do not behave.
And y'know, maybe the fact that I have been thoroughly sick and tired of romanticized and unrealistic YA made me appreciate this book even more, as a writer and just as a person. It also made me think too—how many Oves have I met and prematurely judged because I failed to understand them? What if under the surface, they struggle to carry the weight of a past that did not treat them kindly?
Basically—I cried over this book. I also laughed at parts (I was on a plane, too). There are things I definitely disagreed with, but I got the impression the author was not trying to push an over-romanticized, idealistic world and message. He wrote about the world the way Ove saw it, with all its grit and madness.
And the cat made it 10x better. Fight me.
CWs: 3 suicide attempts (on-page; (view spoiler)[ in which a character attempts to hang, poison, and shoot himself (hide spoiler)]), some cursing (mostly d**n and h**l, may have been one f-bomb), suicidal ideation, train accident...more
This is one of those books that contains so much depth, it requires a re-read.
And yes, Beartown was just as poignant—if not more Re-read | May 2024
This is one of those books that contains so much depth, it requires a re-read.
And yes, Beartown was just as poignant—if not more so—than I remember.
The biggest thing that stood out to me this time around was Backman's ability to contain a multitude of commentaries on human nature within a single 400-page novel. He doesn't just briefly touch on the opinions of various characters affected when tragedy divides a community, he delves deeply into the complex viewpoints, values, and thoughts behind each decision they make.
It's a dark book. The characters lie to themselves and to others. They turn to violence as a way to numb the sting of failure. They possess selfish motives that taint their decisions.
But this story isn't about all those things. It's about the moments people choose to unselfishly stand for one another despite personal costs. It's about the moments they choose to forgive despite having every right to hold on. It's about the moments they choose to love, to protect, and sometimes ... let go.
It looks, sometimes, like washing someone's locker when you have no one to live for. Like smashing a mirror and taking the blame. Like sitting with those who are sitting alone. Like playing Nirvana in an old garage.
There are very few books that have resonated with me the way Beartown has. Even fewer books that have resonated with me so much upon re-reading.
But what can I say? I love Benji.
Difficult questions, simple answers. What is a community? It is the sum total of our choices.
Original review | September 2023
This series has my whole heart, and despite the fact that the books are HUGE, each one will pull you in.
It also confirms what we all should already know—Backman is a master at his craft.
From the very first page, Backman introduces us to a cast of characters who feel human. They ache and they struggle with relationships and mistakes, but those things are what ultimately make us love and admire them all the more. Each character brings the town to life. Their backstories are knitted together to justify the small town's passion for hockey.
Meanwhile, the narrator hovers in the background, lending an ominous dose of foreshadowing to the individual stories of the characters we come to know and love. And guys, never once have I been more terrified of an author, because Backman shows time and time again throughout this series that he's unafraid of pulling punches and brutally killing off characters. And there's such a beautiful, raw way each character is written that you can't help loving or relating to them, despite their many flaws and bad decisions.
However, I would hesitate to recommend these books to all readers because they're all very dark. There's also quite a bit of language, focus on topics such as rape and homophobia, and plenty of violence (though not all of it is graphic). So for sensitive readers, these may not be the books for you (but if you'd still like to give Backman a try, I highly recommend A Man Called Ove, which is lighter in content and tone). This series is not written from a Christian standpoint, so while there are glimmers of hope and goodness and support within the pages, the tone of the books eventually fall back into the frailty of humanity once again.
In spite of all that, I personally think this series is still worth it considering the writing style, the interesting insights on human nature, and the CHARACTERS. It will make you think. It will strike you with a sense of empathy. It will make you wonder about the ambitions and dreams wrapped up in the form of faces all around you....more
THE STAR THAT ALWAYS STAYS is a beautifully-written story exploring themes of identity, true courage, and family.
The main character, Norvia, started THE STAR THAT ALWAYS STAYS is a beautifully-written story exploring themes of identity, true courage, and family.
The main character, Norvia, started off as extremely sympathetic. I could relate to her perpetual state of overthinking, frequent social anxiety, and sensitivity, so right off the bat, I was rooting for her to adjust to the multitude of changes in her life.
I appreciated the author's subtle, L. M. Montgomery-style of storytelling, which paired well with the main character and her delicacy. Johnson also did a wonderful job breaking the mold with step-family stereotypes in fiction, showing the contrast between healthy and unhealthy relationships and how step-families are not always evil despite what Disney tells us. (Who knew?)
While this isn't what I'd personally classify as a heavy read, there are a lot of tense relationships and adjusting that really moved the story along. There were also moments that literally made me tear up, possibly due to the fact that I was very emotionally invested in these characters.
(Also, Vernon. LOVE HIM.)
Overall, a beautiful read displaying the complication of family dynamics and adjusting to things life throws at us all. Would highly recommend.
(Disclaimer: I received a free e-copy from Edelweiss in exchange for an honest review. All opinions are my own)...more
I take back almost everything I've said about this book. It is pure brilliance. The slow, ordinary monotony of high school lif Re-read | October 2024
I take back almost everything I've said about this book. It is pure brilliance. The slow, ordinary monotony of high school life, the constant display of the way pain can settle in your bones, and the buildup to Melinda finding her courage—and eventually her voice—through art is masterfully articulated.
Original review | 2022
Honestly, I found it a bit depressing, but it makes sense considering this book is on such a heavy - but also important - topic. I'm not sure I'd recommend it simply because I felt there was quite a bit of unnecessary language.
The one thing though, I felt the author could've explored the main character's family dynamics a bit more. They seemed like the stereotypical negligent and just ... broken family, and it added an unnecessary weight to an already depressing novel.
Overall, though, it was an interesting read. Anderson is a skilled author, and I applaud her ability to tackle hard topics in her writing....more
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