Queenie by Candice Carty-Williams

Queenie Jenkins is a 25-year old woman living in London and she is not having a good year. Her boyfriend, Tom, has asked her to move out of their flat in the ever-ambiguous Ross and Rachel-type "break," she can't seem to keep focused on her job as she wades through the toxic waste that is OkCupid, and she struggles to find approval from her brash Jamaican family as she not-so-gracefully navigates subtle racism and blatant sexism. While some of her issues are simply the world spinning as it should, Queenie is a mess of her own making, which, as someone who is either 25-years old or used to be 25-years old, is something we can all relate to.

But I'm not 25-years old anymore so I felt far-removed from Queenie and struggled to empathize with her. She is a difficult character to like, and I imagined it would be a challenge to be among her circle of friends. Queenie is not very self-aware, though she is incredibly self-involved, and is often the victim of her own restraints. She is also, however, enlightening and funny and has a hidden confidence that she simply hasn't mastered quite yet, much like every 25-year old everywhere. I would be very interested in revisiting Queenie in ten years time, when she is 35.

Written well, with several laugh-out-loud, and SMH "been there!" moments, Carty-Williams opens up a small part of London that we easily forget and easily ignore. We reserve racism in all its forms to the back-country American red-necks, not realizing that a small comment on skin tone isn't as complimentary as we might think; no other race - White, Asian, Hispanic - ever gets compliments on skin tone and complexion unless you're at the Barbazon kiosk or suffering from that pregnant glow. At the same time, Carty-Williams, whether unwittingly or on purpose, underscores the way in which we place ourselves in a box then get defensive when that box is recognized, the scene at the swimming pool a prime example.

The one, basic theme that we can all relate to - male, female, young and old - is the blatant pressure and judgment we receive from our family that is an otherwise normal desire to please our teachers and role models, but how that has an effect on the way we perceive the rest of the population - strangers, friends, and partners. If the people who love us the most are able to pass such harsh judgment and criticism, then surely it is much easier for someone who doesn't know a thing about us to do the same? Queenie's inherent anxiety is a direct result of the stress she feels in either trying to please her family, or explain and defend herself. It's no wonder we - including Queenie - feel we have to do the same with everyone else we encounter in the world. What Queenie not-so-eloquently exemplifies is that the way we choose to navigate those judgments and anxiety is ok and all a part of life.

Although I wouldn't place Queenie amongst the voting pool of Goodreads Best Books of 2019, it is a good, well-structured read that almost anyone can appreciate and, like Queenie herself, find beauty in. "To all the Queenie's out there. You are enough." ⭐⭐⭐/5 on goodreads.

Miracle Creek by Angie Kim

Miracle Creek by Angie Kim is a classic case of what has been drilled into us since we were in 2nd Grade: never judge a book by its cover. Way back then, of course, that was more literal in order to empower new readers to discover more and more things they liked to read so as to never get bored. As we get older, we know that this statement is geared more towards people and who we allow into our lives, but both uses are always equally true: we never really know what a book or a person is about until we open them up and really get to know what's inside. Miracle Creek is a beautifully written, tremendous novel that honors both of these principles; we cannot even begin to predict the story or the depths of these characters but you'll be eager to find out by page two.

Pak and Young are Korean immigrants living in Miracle Creek, Virginia with hopes of their innovative Miracle Submarine creating a better life for their daughter, Mary. A sort-of new, widely unheard of medical treatment in which people sit in a chamber with pure oxygen as a way to repair damaged cells and "cure" whatever ails the body, Pak and Young are slowly starting to achieve mild success when there is a mysterious explosion, killing two patients, and putting a single mother on trial for her child's murder. What is dubbed more than once as a "taut courtroom thriller," is also a tumultuous and dramatic unraveling of lives forever altered by a series of small decisions.

Miracle Creek is an incredible book where Kim expertly weaves medicine and legalities and courtroom procedure into a story that is heartfelt, emotional, and mysterious, drawing on her own legal and Korean background, as well as her own personal experiences with a "miracle submarine" treatment. Her writing is fluid and clear, evoking the intended emotion and imagery, as the story magically unfolds to not only be one of whodunit, but the inherent struggles of immigrants, thinly veiled and blatant racism and judgment, mom-comparing and mom-shaming, and the daily struggles of being a teen, being in a marriage, being a parent, or trying to become one. This book is so many things, all wrapped up in one unassuming package; just like us.

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐/5 on goodreads

The Lying Game by Ruth Ware

About a month ago, I went through a bit of a book slump which, as you know, isn't that uncommon - I see a lot of posts online about said slumps and asking for recommendations in order to relieve them. I wasn't sure what genre I was even in the mood for, much less any specific novel, and then I noticed Ruth Ware's The Lying Game on my shelf. But, of course! Ware has been giving me the fall chills since In A Dark, Dark Wood, reading one of her deeply mysterious novels during this time of year has become habit. So then it was decided for me. Well, whoever was the decision-maker fell asleep on the job, most likely reading The Lying Game.

Isa, Kate, Thea, and Fatima become fast-friends at a wayward boarding school in the damp marshes of England, and in less than a year, are able to create a very unfortunate reputation for themselves; think Mean Girls Gone Bad. But not so bad that the story actually becomes interesting. Something sinister happened to Kate's father, Ambrose, during that time at school, and now - some decades later - their lying past is about to come back to haunt them.

The most glaring of discrepancies is that the actual Lying Game and its subsequent rules - tell a lie, stick to your story, don't get caught, never lie to each other, and know when to stop lying - are completely arbitrary, and more a lesson in how not to be a dick during your teen years because it could come back to bite you as an adult. Reminiscent of Ware's previous novels, none of The Lying Game's "participants" are at all likable, and these women come off as whiny and self-involved. This book is about 200-pages too long, extremely boring and over-dramatic, the ending is a total let-down, and the final line of the book makes absolutely no sense. This Ware book is a rare disappointment. ⭐/5 on goodreads.
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The Best Books to Read During Fall

I know plenty of fellow bibliophiles who love to read beach/summer novels while on the beach during summer. No doubt there are other bibliophiles who are just straight-up seasonal readers like myself, so this one's for you! In no particular order, here is my ever-evolving list of great books to read from late August to late November, with no synopsis, just a blurb about why I included it. Happy Snuggle-Up-and-Read Time!

Books You Might Not Have Heard About

* The Troop by Nick Cutter. This book takes place in the late summer, during a Boy Scout-like camping trip on a small island only reachable by boat, and is only scary because it is SO gross. It is also scary because Cutter has decided that writing horror means exploiting the absolute worst parts of the human condition. This book will definitely make you feel uncomfortable, and do not read while eating, especially pasta.

* The Bucket List by Georgia Clark. Because Fall and the month of October isn't just about being scared, it's also about being aware. A perfect read for Breast Cancer Awareness Month, this book is about Lacey, a woman in her 20's who is suddenly faced with almost-certain breast cancer. Her's is a journey like no one would expect, a brilliant peek into the unexpected, and often hidden, emotions that come with a life-changing medical diagnosis.

* Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter by Seth Grahame-Smith. I recommend this book to people and they think I've lost my marbles, but this it is an absolutely fantastic read. The story mixes history and fantasy, gore and drama, and heroism and heartbreak. A perfect book for whenever you find yourself in a remote cabin.

* The Darkest Places: Unsolved Mysteries, True Crimes, and Harrowing Disasters in the Wild by The Editors of Outdoor Magazine. Speaking of finding yourself in a remote cabin, this book is a collection of stories centered around the wilds of the wilderness. I flipped the book open and happened to land on a story about severed feet encased in sneakers washing up on various shores. Not only great for this time of year, this book is also a must-read around the summer campfire.

The Usual Suspects

* The Shining by Stephen King. Full disclosure, I read this book because of that episode of Friends (which is also why I read Little Women), and even though I have read a few more horror books since, and more books overall than Joey Tribbiani, I agree with him that The Shining is the scariest book ever written. It takes place from late Fall to early Spring, the weather a sinister character in its own right. I have recommended this book to people who, naively, thought it was just a book and read a little before bedtime. In the dark. Alone. Then, nope, had to put it down and walk away. This book is a must-read, just don't start reading The Shining without making sure there is plenty of room in the freezer.

* Doctor Sleep by Stephen King. This is the 30-years later sequel to The Shining and it is phenomenal. It is gripping and empowering and a terrifying mix of our legitimate, real-life fears, and the mythical monsters under our bed.

* Pet Sematary by Stephen King. Last King book, I promise, but this book has a bit of a cult following. I found it to be more exhausting than scary, and I refuse to watch the movie simply because of the scene with the toddler (you know what I'm talking about, and no, not where he's eating his mother's face).

* In A Dark, Dark Wood by Ruth Ware. I mean, the title alone, right? Set in a remote part of England, in a cabin with no phone service, with a group of people you can't trust, this book is definitely a claustrophobic read for when it gets too cold to leave the house.

* The Woman in Cabin 10 by Ruth Ware. Set on a luxury cruise surrounded by frigid, dark waters, where a woman may or may not have been thrown overboard, this is yet another book you don't want to read without your sweatpants.

* The Lying Game by Ruth Ware. This book alternates between the present heat of the summer, and the fall and biting winter of the characters' teenage school year, and while the book isn't necessarily scary, it is mysterious and uncomfortable.

* The Death of Mrs. Westaway by Ruth Ware. My last Ware book, at least until I read her latest, The Turn of the Key. I've read at least one of her books every year around this time, it must be habit now. Well, there are worse habits to have. Also set in a remote part of England, lets just acknowledge that every book set across the pond feels...damp. The setting and weather of this book, alone, gives you the chills, and it is a definite page-turner, making you never want to crawl out from under your blanket.

* See What I Have Done by Sarah Schmidt. This book is not set during Fall, but an oppressive and - again - damp, heat. And makes me never want to eat pears ever again. But it is an extremely weird, creepy story, and you'll understand the Lizzie Borden costumes come Halloween.

* The Amityville Horror by Jay Anson. Like the King books I mentioned above, reading this book during this time of the year is like one big no-duh. Haunted house and terrified family and Priest, it's like it's not even Halloween if you've never acknowledged The Amityville Horror.

* World War Z by Max Brooks. Everyone is a cynic these days and no matter the time of year will tell you how the world is headed to Hell in a hand-basket, but not before a good, old-fashioned Zombie apocalypse. Personally, I'll always save stories like these for that special Zombie time of year.

* Final Girls by Riley Sager. This book is scary and should be read during this time of year for the same reason you might feel compelled to watch Scream. More specifically, this book is a lot more like Scream 2, where the gruesome murders of the past should be case-closed and done, but of course they're not.  

Simply Set During Fall

* Fierce Kingdom by Gin Phillips. This book is intense and gripping and only spans three hours in mid-October with a mother and her young son at the local zoo. The story isn't particularly scary or mysterious in the traditional horror sense, but the imagery of the first 30-pages is enough to paint all the fall imagery.

* The Woman in the Window by A.J. Finn. This book is definitely a mysterious page-turner that is set during early fall; that perfect time of year when dusk comes earlier than we'd like, playing tricks with our eyes and our minds. But this book is also heartbreaking and emotional and takes you on a roller coaster you might not have expected.

* The Heretic's Daughter by Kathleen Kent. Set during the span of the cold, winter months, you can never go wrong with reading about the Salem Witch Trials during the darkest months of the year. Simply placing yourself in the shoes of these people, and knowing that they are real, is enough to scare you more than any witch could.

* Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell by Susanna Clark. This is a hefty, complicated book - both figuratively and literally - as books around competing magicians tend to be, a la The Night Circus. But this long and imaginative read would be the perfect book to get you into the hibernating spirit.

* The Revenant by Michael Punke. I love a good true story, especially ones about surviving in the wild. Left for dead after a brutal bear attack, this book is tense and bitter and cold and exhausting. It will definitely make you thankful for your cozy bed and nearby hospital. 

* One Thousand White Women by Jim Fergus. This book can be read at any time, but since we seem to put extra focus on Native Americans - and often stereo typically so - during this time of year, this is a great read to really get into and understand the lives of a group of Native Americans, and a snippet of the interactions between them, White people, and the government. Also check out the sequel, The Vengeance of Mothers.

Or, ya know, read whatever you want. 😊

The Reckless Oath We Made by Bryn Greenwood

Wow, what a peculiar book. An imaginative, harsh, yet whimsical, novel that sucks you in without you even realizing it. Eventually you are just so invested in Zee and Gentry and the eclectic cast of characters that The Reckless Oath We Made by Bryn Greenwood feels more like a show you want to binge-watch instead of the novel you can't put down. It is an interesting story, told like no other, and, to be completely honest, had I not read (and loved) All The Ugly and Wonderful Things, this story synopsis might not have appealed to me. As it was, it took me a few passes to eventually select ATUWT and books like those remind me of why I always take a chance on them. While slightly obscure on the surface, The Reckless Oath We Made is innately human and as real as real can get, and told by a true writing talent.

Lady Zee - Zhorzha - is nobody's Princess. But two years ago, told by the voices in his head, Gentry is called to be her Champion - her watch and protector and hero in all things. Mostly he has kept his distance, and his autism prevents him from looking her in the eye, or barely speaking to her in those last two years. But when a dangerous abduction puts Gentry directly in line to protect her, the two forge a unique, empathetic friendship that leads them into very dangerous territory, both in their attempt to help Zee's kidnapped sister, as well as what it means to intertwine two very different people.

Greenwood's writing is superb. It is real and honest and specific to each of her dynamic characters with just the right amount of sarcasm, wit, and humor. She creates a cast that we either love or hate but are nonetheless invested, and Zee and Gentry's story is complex and unassuming. I had no idea what to expect with the ending, or how it would make me feel, as this is a truly unique story. But where Elin Hilderbrand is Queen of the Beach Read, Greenwood is Queen of the Final Scene.

There is nothing blatantly special about the two endings of Greenwood's books that I have read and perhaps that is why they deliver such a gut-punch. They are simple, standard scenes in which Zee and Gentry (et al) are being the most human in their lives, doing something as normal and mundane as sitting around a dinner table, or taking a picnic atop a grassy hill, being happy in the moment, being themselves free of judgment and full of only love and friendship, real, human people who have walked through fire and made it out ok on the other side. Greenwood's endings are a subtle reminder that we can do this thing called life, in every form that takes.

Greenwood's books are truly unlike any other. ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐/5 on goodreads. 

Force of Nature by Jane Harper

"Five women go on a hike.

Only four return."

And marked down 75-percent off at Barnes and Noble, how could I not? Unsurprisingly, though, the hiking bits are the most interesting and entertaining, and it reminded me why reading the words, "When Detective/Investigator So-And-So.." on the book jacket is an instant book-boner downer and makes me return it to its rightful place on the shelf: police novels are DULL. In Jane Harper's Force of Nature, the investigative routine makes up about 70-percent of the story, but the rest is a grave disappointment.

Five women on a company-mandated retreat - Bree, her twin sister Beth, Jill, Lauren, and Alice - set out on a three-day supposed team-building hike through the Australian bushland. Personalities and pay-grades clash from the start, and - as Lauren states, "It was a hundred things that went wrong." Chief among them, Senior Level Alice, goes missing, a woman who has been working with Financial Crimes investigator, Aaron Falk and his partner, Carmen, to bring down the very company she works for. Everyone has a motive to get rid of her, including Alice for choosing to walk away from the group on her own, one of the many possibilities, and everyone has a reason to lie.

I didn't read the first of the Falk series, The Dry, so maybe that is why I find Falk and Carmen to be the most uninteresting characters ever. The switching back and forth between the groups each chapter makes it difficult to focus, and the chapter with a hint of sexual tension is ultimately fruitless and mostly uninteresting (although I'm sensing this will gradually change with future Falk novels). Harper adds a lot of mysterious elements, which gives the reader too many options instead of surprises. And although those elements are what propel the story forward, their contribution to the overall plot is minimal; by the time I finished skimming the last 40-pages, I felt like I had just watched a very long episode of CSI: Miami. *puts on sunglasses*

Force of Nature is written well, the premise is intriguing, though weakly executed, and the ending is a disappointment, and just a tiny bit sexist. I don't find anything glaringly wrong with the book, a la Lauren, "It was a hundred things that went wrong." ⭐⭐/5 on goodreads.

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The Break Down by B.A. Paris

Is Cass cracking up? Or is she unwittingly a witness to a terrible crime?

Driving home late one night from a post-work get-together, and despite her husband's wishes to avoid the dark, forested short-cut back home, Cass comes across a car parked on the side of the road with only a woman staring vacantly from the driver's side window. Unsure of what she could do, how, exactly, she might be able to help, and in preservation of her own safety, Cass drives on home, only to discover the next morning that the woman in the car has been brutally murdered. Wracked with guilt but also consumed with a possible memory-loss problem, Cass begins to think she's spiraling out of control. But is she really, or is she just being fucked with? And so begins another in the long line of psychological and domestic thrillers.

First off, I appreciate a good double entendre, which you get with the titles of both The Break Down and B.A. Paris' first novel, Behind Closed Doors. The Break Down is deeply mysterious, and makes the reader physically breathless as Cass sharply vacillates between extreme guilt and extreme fear/paranoia/anxiety/panic. But there are particular scenes that come off a bit too dramatic and contrived and, quite frankly, a little hard to accept. Paris makes clear Cass' heightened nerves, which was made even more evident by my own heightened nerves for personal, non-book-related reasons. But the true test of any author of the psychological thriller genre is, can the story be written well enough to trick the reader, without the use of bald-faced lies (Paris does not lie, but authors sometimes utilize this avenue)? Unfortunately, in this particular instance, the answer is no.

Any reader worth their salt begins to guess whodunnit by the end of the prologue or first chapter. I won't be arrogant enough to say that I "figured it out" on page three, but I'll admit that nothing about the ending was at all surprising. Ok, there was one thing that was surprising, but mostly I appreciate how Paris, once again, takes the main female character and deftly transforms her from victim into...something else, and it is encouraging, real, and empowering, not to mention written extremely well.

Although I only gave this book ⭐⭐⭐/5 on goodreads, the story pumps out faster than a slit throat, is fluidly written, and keeps you wanting more; you might figure out the major plot twists sooner than you'd like, but the little twists and turns are fast and sharp enough to keep even the most persnickety reader entertained. If you want your mind fucked with, this isn't your read. But if you want something fun to flip through while at the beach, or when you sense the impending end of summer but don't want to let go of summer reading just yet, then this should be your pick.

The Dark Rose by Erin Kelly

*Turns to chapter 52 and begins to skim* Which is a good indication that I am not engaged or interested in this book.

*Skims epilogue, reads final paragraph, closes book*

Huh.

That was weird.

It didn't give me the bad feels like I Am Behind You, but Erin Kelly's The Dark Rose made me question my seemingly unwavering faith in one of my favorite and most recommended books, The Burning Air. Where The Poison Tree is dark and confusing, The Dark Rose is disturbing and mostly pointless.

THE FOLLOWING CONTAINS SPOILERS

Louisa spends her days mooning over her past while rehabilitating an Elizabethan garden with a handful of wayward criminals not hard enough for prison, but just hard enough to require a respite from society. Enter Paul, one such wayward criminal who happens to bear a sinister resemblance to Louisa's teen lover, Adam. In spite of the obvious age difference, the two begin a romance that is neither romantic or necessary to the story. For his part, Paul is a young man abruptly torn from his future when an act of petty theft turns into a grizzly murder, and the two spend most of their time dancing around their violent commonalities.

Like The Poison Tree (or so I wrote on my goodreads review), The Dark Rose is exquisitely written, with imagery that is near perfection. The story is vivid and dark without a hint of remorse, but it doesn't necessarily need to be told, and the book as a whole is long, slow, and it's unclear why certain plot points need to exist. For example, it seems that Paul's likeness to Adam is an intriguing twist, though it is one that is never revealed to Paul, which could have possibly set the story on a different trajectory. The story also suddenly ends in a random twist of fate, and although these characters aren't particularly empathetic, we're supposed to feel sympathy or understanding for their final emotional upheavals. It seems as if Kelly got to page 300 and was like, well this will either be a 500-page book, or I should just end things now, and obviously chose the latter.

Kelly is a masterful writer, though as a novelist, I'm more a fan of her later works like, He Said/She Said, and I'm looking forward to her new book, Stone Mothers. I will also read her Broadchurch because, like my love/hate relationship with Liane Moriarty, I will return again and again and again. ⭐⭐⭐/5 on goodreads.

The Rumor by Elin Hilderbrand

Elin Hilderbrand is the undisputed Queen of the Beach Read, despite The Rumor being set mostly amongst a lush Nantucket garden that would drive even Martha Stewart wild with desire. But she does not reign supreme simply because most of her novels take place during the summer, but because you can sit somewhere - maybe on a beach - and burn through the pages faster than a marshmallow at a bonfire. Her plots are creative, surprising, and well-crafted, with engrossing and quick characters, and The Rumor just makes me want more.

Madeline King and Grace Pancik have been best friends for two decades and the envy of Nantucket society. As summer descends on the island, so does the droves of visitors, seasonal residents, and everyone cooped up and restless from another relentless Nantucket winter. Anxious for things to happen and anxious to make things happen, a minor misunderstanding gets the rumor mill spinning. Is Madeline having an affair with Grace's husband? Is that why she had to get her own apartment? As everyone is about to learn, while rumors aren't the pillar of accuracy, the truth can end up being so much worse.

The Rumor is non-strop, unputdownable drama. The twists and turns offered up during this Nantucket summer are surprising, well-executed, is a jolt of pure entertainment, and has me wondering if Hilderbrand has ever been approached - or thought - about any of her books going the way of Big Little Lies and being turned into, at the very least, a Lifetime mini-series. And, in truth, Hilderbrand's novels would serve up a lot more meat than BLL, a show with a second season despite not having a sequel to the book.

In The Rumor, Hilderbrand highlights that even picturesque island-living comes with its own form of isolation, and that even if we know a lot about the lives of our neighbors, we might be oblivious to the goings on of our own. Hilderbrand also subtly points out that gossip - like an affair - is fun in the moment and facilitates a bond, but is also bad juju in the same way that when we point fingers at someone, we have four more pointing back at us, and that we can't sling mud without getting some on ourselves. And just to make it a solid three cliches, to keep in mind the Golden Rule of treating people the way we want to be treated, including our level of desire to be the talk of the town.

While for The Rumor, I sing nothing but praises, I find Hilderbrand as an author to be a bit of an enigma. Having loved the first novel of hers that I ever read - Barefoot - I was excited to learn just how expansive her collection actually is, and that she is currently in the process of growing her other collection, the Winter series. Unfortunately, I find those novels awful, absolutely awful. But I will happily add one of her Nantucket novels to my repertoire of summer reading every single year. Until then, I gave this one in particular ⭐⭐⭐⭐/5 on goodreads.

Into the Jungle by Erica Ferencik

Like most things in the world today, I was encouraged to read Into the Jungle by Erica Ferencik via social media, though once finding it at my local library, the book jacket synopsis had me sold.

Lily is a 19-year old girl who spent her life in the foster care system, too young for her old experience, cynical, bitter, and used to being abandoned more than anything else. Lying, cheating, and stealing in order to survive, Lily meets Omar in a crowded Bolivian bar and, in what is quite possibly the most tumultuous way to begin a new relationship, is swept away to his home village in the jungle so that he can help his family hunt the jaguar that killed his nephew. Lily's next 10-months in the jungle are fast-paced, gritty, horrifying, but also heartwarming and extremely educational; a lot can be learned from this book, aside from just how to live and love in the jungle.

A lot had to have gone into writing this book, the imagery alone is lyrical and beautiful and haunting, a true talent given that the jungle is a place constantly on a quest to kill you. Ferencik's inclusion of political and industrial policy, weaving it into the delicate lives of those who remain in the jungle, is genius and poignant and does a great honor to a land so taken for granted. Ferencik expertly, though heartbreakingly, articulates the sad truth that the issues that face this land and these people are shouted into the wind and carried away forever, like the brown river water. "...it's not over, this bad story no one can get away from. There will be other poachers. This is not the end of those bad men, of these terrible times..."

Into the Jungle is gripping and powerful, scary and romantic, tough and fragile, and the writing is truly above par, which is why I gave it ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐/5 on goodreads. It is a very entertaining, engrossing story that is not only interesting to read, but has a fair amount to teach us about our own capabilities and limits and how both might be just figments of our imagination.

I Owe You One by Sophie Kinsella

I want to live in a world in which Kinsella creates, which is quite silly, really, because her world is the natural one, she just fills it with charming, real characters who, while still having the usual human flaws, offer sympathy and humanity. Book after book, Kinsella's cast of characters continue to restore our faith in humanity; we can have a big fuck up and people who love us. We can have both things. Kinsella deftly navigates the negatives of life with wit, charisma, and a sly bit of sarcasm, and makes us believe that things really will be all right in the end, even when it all goes wrong.

In Kinsella's latest novel, I Owe You One, Fixie Farr - Ms. Fix-It to her family - has one self-described flaw: she needs to fix everything. What is spun as a personality defect by her self-absorbed siblings is actually her warm, open heart, willing to help anyone for virtually no reason at all. Caught up in her subtle family dramas that they leave her to deal with, Fixie is casually asked by a stranger in a coffee shop if she'll keep an eye on his laptop while he steps outside to take a call. Saving the laptop from certain disaster for stranger Sebastian leads to a roller coaster of IOUs, from the silly to the life-changing. As a result of this happenstance meeting, Fixie learns more about herself, what she's worth compared to what she think she's worth, that if people truly respect her, they will also respect her boundaries, and that having boundaries is not a referendum on how much she loves and cares for others. 

With her finger firmly on the cultural pulse, Kinsella pokes fun at the pitfalls of always finding the positive in every situation, and the slippery slope between self care and being downright selfish. And, of course, in a warm, light prose, Kinsella makes us laugh with the lunacy of family we all find way too familiar. Her writing is genuine, funny, and really engages with the reader; I can't decide if I want to be one of Kinsella's characters, or if I want to be best friends with them.

I Owe You One is a definite delight. What is on the surface a light, fun page-turner full of quip, is also a poignant reflection of our relationships with friends, family, and spouses; and that those little lies we tell ourselves in order to give people the benefit of the doubt is actually hurting us more than simply facing the truth - that some people are worth our love and "fixing," and some people are not. Fixie is a delightful character we can carry in our hearts as we continue to navigate the difference between the two.

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐/5 on goodreads because I can't imagine ever giving one of her books anything less than four stars.

I usually read at least one Sophie Kinsella book every year, which isn't by design, it just happens to always work out that way (this year I will read two, however, because Becky Brandon nee Bloomwood is BACK!), and each book of her's that I read manages to be the exact book I need to read at that particular point in my life. Yes, I realize how dramatic that sounds and I don't mean it to be, but my fellow bibliophiles will understand that one of the reasons we love and gravitate towards books so much is because we can relate them, or parts of them, to our own lives. Reading the stories of others oftentimes helps us see issues in our own lives from a different perspective, helps us draw certain conclusions, or give us confidence in our emotions. And, of course, that we're not alone.

The Wife Between Us by Greer Hendricks and Sarah Pekkanen

Unless you live under a rock, you probably still have WiFi, so you've seen The Wife Between Us by Greer Hendricks and Sarah Pekkanen all over Instagram and book blogs. Well, here it is again, and I don't feel quite the same way that my fellow bookstagrammers and book bloggers do.

This book, another in a long line of domestic thrillers, is billed to be a lot more sinister than it actually is, and the mystery is far surpassed by the emotional drama. In terms of sub-categorizing the domestic fiction genre, I believe The Wife Between Us would make better company among novels like Ghosted and anything by Liane Moriarty. It offers up enough twists and turns to satisfy the thriller-seekers, but, really, this book ultimately dives deeper into the characters, the tangled webs they weave and why, all wrapped up in an empathetic story line.

Like the book jacket suggests, you will read this book and assume you are reading about a heartbroken ex-wife, left by her wealthy, powerful husband for his younger, blonder, Assistant (they don't call them Secretaries anymore). You will think that she is obsessed with her replacement and yearns for the life she once had. Then comes the twist, so sharp you get whiplash and, like Erin Kelly's The Burning Air, you are almost tempted to go back and flip through the last section just to make sure that, yup, she/they did just do that. This twist, though sharp, is also a bit watered down; Kelly still reins supreme.

The Wife Between Us is a well-written, well-crafted story that comes full-circle, but not without throwing out the odd detour here and there. And though psychologically mind-bending, it is more heart-warming than the synopsis would have you expect. It lives up to the hype, serving up several twists and turns, they just come on too sharp, start to become predictable, and one twist is sorely over-used in novels these days. The characters are deep and interesting and garner sympathy, but Vanessa's role in particular is a bit of a stretch, and I find her role hard to believe given the past that Hendricks and Pekkanen created for her.

Though a definite page-turner with compelling storytelling, I don't think this book is as good as the online hype; or maybe I am just tiring of the predictability that seems to be the way of domestic thrillers these days. I was expecting something different and a little darker and The Wife Between Us is just more of the same and left me a little underwhelmed, which is why I give it ⭐⭐⭐⭐/5 on goodreads. I've said it before and I'll say it again, just read The Burning Air instead.

The Way We Bared Our Souls by Willa Strayhorn

I like to boast that I will read pretty much anything, though I avoid trigger topics like I mentioned before, and if ever I am given the opportunity to choose between a Young Adult novel and anything else, I will almost always choose Anything Else. I appreciate the genre, though with every YA book I've read (The Hunger Games trilogy - HERE, HERE, and HERE - Divergent, Cinder, How To Lead a Life of Crime, The Fault in Our Stars, etc.), I've felt that they are decidedly *not* Young Adult but just Regular Adult. Willa Strayhorn's The Way We Bared Our Souls is exactly what a Young Adult novel should look and sound like, and I think it would do actual young people a service to read and discuss this book with their peers, and perhaps an English teacher.

Lo is on the verge of being diagnosed with MS; Ellen is numbing herself with drugs and alcohol; Kaya, due to a chronic illness, is immune to feeling physical pain; Thomas can't forget his war-torn past; and Kit constantly fears death after his girlfriend's car accident. And when Lo meets a mysterious man and his coyote who says he can perform a sacred ritual to relieve their biggest burdens, Lo - like many teenagers - believes this is her only option; that this mysterious Jay will somehow cure her and the others. So they head into the desert and trade totems in what they believe to be purely symbolic but quickly turns literal. For the next seven days, the teens take on each other's burdens, which begs the question: if you could trade your biggest burden for someone else's, would you?

While not the most well-written or literary of the Young Adult genre, The Way We Bared Our Souls shows up for teens where Thirteen Reasons Why falls short; where Thirteen Reasons does a lot of victimizing and blaming, The Way We Bared Our Souls emphasizes the importance of showing up for ourselves, and that our burdens don't have to be what defines or controls us. There are moments when the story is a bit of a stretch, but the main points are never lost. And while there are far too many periods - which I assume is so teen readers will move seamlessly from one sentence to the other - the mood of the novel can get a bit Dawson's Creek and overly mature, which young readers today won't understand the reference to, anyways. Strayhorn satisfactorily showcases relatable teen angst with a splash of make-believe and magic and some good American history to bring things back down to Earth.

I give this book ⭐⭐⭐/5 on goodreads mostly because the book as a whole is a bit young for me, and I find adult books to be generally more engrossing. Teens, however, could really gain something valuable from The Way We Bared Our Souls.

Beartown by Fredrik Backman

Set in late March (I'm an avid seasonal reader); takes place in a remote mountain town (of Sweden, though that is never mentioned directly, and, given the imagery, could very well take place in Alaska); the name of that town being Beartown; the story revolving around a hockey team; Beartown by Fredrik Backman could have been called This Book Was Written For You, Breanne! Unfortunately, those basic characteristics are where my affection for this book take a sharp turn.

Backman's novel included, I have only ever read two books where rape is the eye of the storm and everything around it spins out of control. This might be hard to believe from someone who reads approximately 30 books a year, but I am extremely sensitive to triggers so I go out of my way to avoid them. As a woman, and as a woman who was raised with a certain code of values and responsibilities, I find these particular stories about rape frustrating. It was especially disconcerting - and sometimes encouraging - that I forgot Beartown isn't in the United States, proving that extremely unfortunate ethics and so-called morals transcend cultures.

Beartown is on the brink of extinction. Business are closing up shop, council members see little reason to invest, and there is even talk of moving the school to the next town over. All the hopes of Beartown - big and small - rest on the shoulders of Beartown Ice Hockey, a group of teenage boys who moved up the local ranks to once and for all have a shot at winning the finals. Treated like heroes and worshiped like gods, a teen girl is raped and everything and every one spirals out of control.

Coincidentally, along with being only the second rape-centered book I've ever read, Beartown is also the second sports drama I've ever continuously rolled my eyes through, and lets just say, I'm not a fan. Beartown is written considerably better than Blind Your Ponies, but the drama is just as contrived, and the level of cheese requires just as much wine. Is there really that much cheese behind those locker room doors, or do writers just *think* there is really that much cheese behind those locker room doors? And aside from the manufacturing, the cheesy drama is extremely redundant, and alternates between the reader being in the center of it all to the reader having to squint through a dirt encrusted window. I will say, however, that even though there are just so many words, Backman manages to arrange them in a pleasing, thoughtful manner.

Sifting through the fromage is only tolerable because as focus on the game starts to fade, the crevasses in the characters become crystal clear, and suddenly navigating their truly unfortunate choices is all we are able to focus on. Backman's characters are to have us believe that to err is to be human, though there is not one character in this book that has more than one redeeming quality. Each character makes frustratingly frightening decisions while Backman tries to explain them away with the shedding of silent tears; as if to be human is to selfishly destroy others. I did not find one character to be even remotely likable. Well, except maybe the bass player.

From what I understand of the reviews, this story is a diversion from Backman's usual writings. This being my first of his novels, I find this encouraging as I still have A Man Called Ove on my unread shelf and now I am more inclined to read it. I have no desire to continue reading about these particular characters, though, so I will opt out of reading the sequel, Us Against You. 

⭐⭐/5 on goodreads

I Am Behind You by John Ajvide Lindqvist

What, in the name of all that is Holy, did I just fucking read?

And so begins a long line of similar sentiments on the goodreads review board for John Ajvide Lindqvist's I Am Behind You, a title - much like the book - that is completely pointless and devoid of meaning and ultimately stupid. Apparently, this WTF-factor is not unfamiliar to readers of Lindqvist's previous books, but it will most likely be the reason that I never read - much less pay any more library late-fees for - one of his books again.

Waking up one morning in a Swedish campsite (not unlike many you find in America), a group of adults, two young children, a dog, and a cat find that everything has disappeared; no additional campers besides them, no additional caravans, no trees, no roads, no water, and no sun. Just blue sky and a grass that doesn't grow. What starts out as intensely creepy, gradually turns into the story with no ending; just one, long, constant stream of consciousness, like the ramblings of an old man who had the weirdest dream and remembers every last detail. But, not only does it get hard to focus, keep names and places straight, and is inherently meaningless, it is also gross, disturbing, and something you're just better off not knowing.

It is written well enough, capturing the spirit - the essence - of each character in a way that is expressly unique to them; and oftentimes profound, offering up several quotes that resonated with me, personally. But as the pages reach the end, the book goes from being a cross between The Shining, LOST, The Langoliers, and every horror movie you've ever seen involving creepy children, to a hodgepodge of lack-luster horror that even the characters aren't afraid of anymore. It goes the way of Nick Cutter's The Deep in that there comes a point when Lindqvist is just trying too hard to be controversial, and the payoff is nil. There is no happy ending, no conclusive ending - also like The Deep, the story just...stops. There is, literally, no ending, which means I could have stopped reading this book about 200-pages - or three weeks - ago, and now it is one of the few that I won't remember much of but when I see it or am reminded of it, will make me scrunch my nose in disgust.

Dubbed "the Stephen King of Sweden," and even though I find King to be exhausting on a whole other level, you're better off just reading a Stephen King novel. Like I Am Behind You, any of his books might also give you nightmares, but they will at least be nightmares that make sense. This book was definitely not worth the time, effort, or library late fees. ⭐/5 on goodreads.com.

No Exit by Taylor Adams

Thanks to social media, we can now instantly recommend books to thousands of people, and - in turn - instantly receive book recommendations for ourselves. The problem is that those thousands of people learning about a book at the same time means finding it available at my library can feel like striking gold. So you can imagine my nerdish excitement at snatching up No Exit by Taylor Adams, a book littering every literary news feed (with at least 13 holds behind me).

This book is, in a word, intense. Every scene bristles with tension, from Darby Thorne's blizzardy drive up a dangerous mountain pass to the final, gut-gripping scene. It is a non-stop thrill-ride in spite of the whole story taking place in a snowed-in rest stop.

Darby is a college sophomore, driving home over Christmas to see her dying mother. Heading up a snowy mountain pass, she is forced to pull off into a rest area that is rapidly getting buried by snow, with four other people and no cell service. But once Darby discovers that there is a fifth person at the rest stop - a little girl locked in a crate in the back of a windowless van - the twists and turns come faster than a tumble down a mountainside but - to Adams' credit - are a lot easier to keep up with.

The best thing about this story is that it seems so obvious where it will go but - with 200 pages to go after the discovery of Jay and who has kidnapped her - the reader really has to wonder what more could possibly be said. In Adams' case, a lot. There are moments of the story where I let out an audible gasp, there are shocks so surprising that I said out-loud, "This book is fucked!" and there are even moments that brought tears to my eyes. The story is a steep switchback, each blind corner that Adams offers up is absolutely brilliant, well-executed, and keeps you engaged in a story that is otherwise pretty horrific.

The writing is perfect, the ingenuity of time-stamping each chapter highlighting just how much every second counts. Remaining true to themselves, each character delivers their roles in a haunting, indelibly human way, and this book, while frightening, heart-stopping, and sometimes gory, makes us realize that - if all the chips were down - we really would have the courage and the capacity to not only save ourselves but to also save someone else.

Buckle up, No Exit is one wild ride that will have you burning through the pages faster than a roaming cell phone burns through battery. And the next time you see a rest area, you might just keep on driving.

The Trap by Melanie Raabe

I'm a fairly observant person, more so than most, but it's not, like, my super-power or anything. I've noticed that lately I've been drawn to novels centered around the lives of agoraphobic writers, and that I find that lifestyle particularly intriguing. I realize that it's an illness and not a chosen lifestyle, but it's oddly appealing to me, enough so that I might give it a whirl if my own writing starts paying the bills one day. The idea runs counter to my love and joy of hiking, but not in my head; give me a secluded mountain cabin next to a lake any day of the week.

In Melanie Raabe's book, The Trap, Linda Conrads has more of a giant, terraced, house next to a lake that she hasn't left since the grizzly murder of her sister twelve years before. She swears that she locked eyes with Anna's killer before he fled the scene, never to be caught, despite years of dealing with panic attacks and a general deterioration of her mental well-being. Not necessarily agoraphobic, but in constant fear that the murderer will come back for her - the sole witness - Linda makes the choice to retreat into her house, supporting herself by churning our a few best-selling novels every year. Then she suddenly comes face to face with those killer eyes she saw all those years ago, only this time on her television screen in the form of a reporting war correspondent.

How unfair that he lives a life of ultimate, exaggerated freedom while her sister is dead and she is locked in her own thoughts and fears! So Linda sets about writing a new novel - a thriller - in hopes of manipulating him into a confession. What follows is an intense, gripping, cat-and-mouse of the minds, that leaves us readers un-sure of what, exactly, is real.

A German book turned to English, though nothing seems to get lost in translation, the writing is a bit jerky, which only lends itself to the suspenseful, mysterious shroud that engulfs both the main novel and the novel within the novel. A true testament to Raabe's talent, both books are certifiable page-turners, and constantly keep you guessing, but is more propulsive than the simple shocking twist that seems to be the requisite for thrillers these days. Are we witnessing the ultimate mental breakdown of a woman controlled by fear, or the rebirth of a woman who is struggling to gain control over a situation that has largely controlled her? In that vein, there are frustrating moments in the here-is-what-happened-just-kidding sort of way, and that is repeated several times over, making the story a constant stream of roller-coaster rides. In another testament to Raabe's talent, though, these perpetual roller-coasters are well-executed and don't make the reader sick, just entertained. It is incredibly engrossing and, without even realizing, you're suddenly on page 275.

The way in which Raabe is able to depict a woman struggling with her own truths is imagery at it's finest, which we usually think of in terms of landscapes. But the way Raabe is able to construct the landscape of the mind, especially one bruised by stress and trauma, is like nothing I have ever read before. And the novel speaks largely to our own never-ending troubles with thinking we know the truth, observing others and trying to determine if they are manipulating us, and how outside influences often inflame our already-harbored insecurities. Perhaps that is why the idea of a life as a recluse is so intriguing.

It is also very interesting the way in which she crafts her characters as how she wants us to see them, not how we're able to relate to them ourselves; we learn just what Conrads wants to show us, only thickening the mystery. The entire book is every ending to every thriller you've ever read - one long, tense, suspenseful ending with every turn of the page.

On a more personal note, I found The Trap to be a bit of an inspiration, and not in the hermit sense. Like I said, I would love to make a living off my writing, and to have a book that would be deemed worthwhile. But writing a novel seems like such an unbelievably daunting task; again, running counter to my joy and love of hiking. But after participating in a webinar with best-selling author, Alessandra Torre, and after reading how Linda Conrads crafts her story one scene at a time, and given my latest penchant for stories about reclusive writers, a fire, so-to speak, has been ignited and it finally feels like something I could possibly do and it not be too terrible. Furthermore, The Trap, reminded me that while writing can be a form of therapy for the writer, it can also very much be a way for us to get what we want where we didn't before.

The Bucket List by Georgia Clark

I've noticed that I have an interesting habit when it comes to the books that I end up finding absolutely amazing and how I select them at the library. The last few phenomenal books, I've picked them up off the shelf, read the synopsis, briefly considered adding it to my stack, before ultimately putting it back for next time. After two or three rounds of this, I finally bite the bullet and take the book home, and usually wind up utterly blown away. The Bucket List by Georgia Clark is...brilliant. It is witty and fun, heart-warming and heart-breaking, sexy and hilarious. I laughed-out-loud with, literally, every turn of the page, and found several moments where tears sprang to my eyes. I'm not usually on the yay-women! bandwagon, but this is a book every woman can appreciate, for so many, many reasons.

Lacey Whitman is a brash up-and-comer on the New York fashion scene, 25-years old and not afraid of a little hard work. Assuming it's nothing, and just another box Lacey wants to get ticked off, she requests the testing for the BCRA1 gene mutation only to find out that she's positive. With an almost-certainty that she will get cancer at some point in her life, Lacey is faced with deciding on years of close surveillance or mastectomy. While trying to choose, Lacey and her friends realize just how connected our boobs are to our sexuality, and even relationships, so they create a Boob Bucket List; everything she's ever wanted to do with her boobs before they get lopped off or turn into ticking time bombs.

To start, this book is phenomenally written. It is deep and profound, yet sharp and funny. Clark has her pulse on the cultural polarities, while also creating something deeply soulful and real. And each element to the story, each character, adds a component to the book that everyone can appreciate or relate to. I have none of the medical issues that Lacey is faced with, but this book resonated with me in ways I didn't expect.

At times, you love and empathize with Lacey, and at times you think she's a selfish bitch, because she is all of us; she is all of us women wrapped up in a colorfully likable character who is faced with a most undesirable decision with equally life-altering consequences. She is trying to navigate the tumultuous roads of friendships, relationships, family, and career, while stumbling into the stereotypical woman-pitfall of needing to be everything to everyone and a burden on no one. What on the surface is campy, fluffy chick-lit, actually touches on so many topics, especially those important to women, including our sexuality. 

Clark expertly makes the distinction between being in control of our sexuality and it being controlled for us, as Lacey discovers that, as she sits in the driver's seat of sex-ed, it ignites other, more fierce powers within her, giving her confidence in the areas of her life not ruled by libido. Clark also brilliantly showcases the fine line between caring for ourselves and when that self-care turns selfish and starts to harm others. And this is a fantastic read for a time in our culture when we're trying to find the socially acceptable balance between sex and power, and grasp how the two relate, compliment, and confuse one another. What Clark offers up in The Bucket List is charming and charismatic and covers the wide spectrum of emotions as Lacey goes through it all - fear, indecision, lust, romance, rejection, loss, anger, heartbreak, and happiness, all with a wry, infectious humor that really makes you believe laughter is the best medicine.

The Bucket List also gave me a new appreciation for boobs and a deeper understanding of just how involved they are in our lives and those we choose to bring close to us. They are our sexual antennas, our pregnancy beacons, and worshiped by many. I encourage anyone with an interest in good books, relatable characters, and laughing through the tears of the curve-balls of life to read this book. I encourage people who have the gene mutation, breast cancer, or know people from either to read this book. 

I laughed, I cried, and I am so glad that - after three tries - I finally checked it out. Let's hear it for the ladies! (And get those checked out, too.)

A Simple Favor by Darcey Bell

I seem to be coming across more and more reviews on Goodreads that I find particularly confusing or...inaccurate, for lack of a better word. I don't usually read the reviews in order to determine if I will read a book or not, mainly because people like to play it fast and loose with the details. But once I am done with a book, I'll peruse the reviews out of curiosity, and those of Darcey Bell's A Simple Favor - yes, the very same as the movie starring Blake Lively and Anna Kendrick - are some I didn't agree with, but not because I feel like A Simple Favor is some kind of literary masterpiece.

One review in particular that shows up first says that Bell is lucky to have her "contrived," "stinker of a novel," purchased for the movie rights, when the very first thing that I thought was, I know exactly why this book was purchased for the movie rights.

Stephanie is an isolated Stay-at-Home Mommy-blogger (not unlike myself) who suddenly finds herself immersed in her best friend, Emily's, life once Emily goes unexpectedly missing. What is artificial on the surface - the juvenile writing, the blatant ineptitude of the would-be protagonist (if one actually exists in this story, and I don't think one does), and the story as old as time - actually speaks to more complex themes and explores different ideas, and *that* is why I think it was snatched up to be made into a movie, and why the multi-faceted talents of Kendrick and Lively were picked to play the main characters.

The foundation of the book, that everyone has secrets, is the stable ship that carries some very unstable people. And where other Domestic Noir novels work extra hard for character empathy and elaborate reasons for unreasonable actions, A Simple Favor simply tells the story of best friends behaving badly. And in direct contrast to my usual complaints that every mystery thriller is compared to Gone Girl, I am going to go ahead and compare it to Gone Girl in that it is exactly like Gone Girl if Gone Girl was about two female best friends instead of a husband and wife; and, just like Gone Girl, everyone deserves each other.

Also on the surface is the cheesy, over-used theme showcasing the underbelly of misrepresenting ourselves online. Stephanie is an insipid character who is subtly narcissistic and manipulates the tragedy of others to gain validation from online strangers. She is that special kind of willful ignorance who avoids the truth in favor of feeding her own ego and self-interests, though she tries (unsuccessfully) to be remorseful for her ideas and behaviors.

Unlike Stephanie, Emily makes no attempt to veil her unfavorable thoughts or actions, which speaks to present day real life in that most of us do things that we know are wrong simply because we want to do them. In reading this book, I found that I have more empathy for these women than I did in any of the other domestic thrillers I have read *because* there is no special, overly-detailed, vengeful reason for why they do what they do. And it certainly isn't as a result of some dumb male acting dumb. This book makes the movie unlike any other - where the men sit back and enjoy the ride. I find that, currently, nothing is more relatable than these two characters.

This certainly isn't the best book I have ever read, which is why I gave it three out of five stars on Goodreads, but I feel the need to defend it to a certain extent. I would enjoy seeing the movie, I'm curious to see these characters acted out on screen, and if - also like Gone Girl - the intentions of the characters remain the same. This book is definitely a page-turner, but not one to read if you need to like any of the characters; you will definitely not like any of these characters.