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