Emma in the Night

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Thank you to NetGalley and St. Martin’s for a free digital copy to review – all opinions are my own!

(Read Goodread’s synopisis here.)

Cass Tanner was taking them all on a journey, and the only way they would find Emma was to go along for the ride.

This thriller was gripping and exciting; I couldn’t put it down! The psychological twists had me on my toes and I turned the pages as fast as I could to see exactly where the story was headed. Though somewhat predictable at times, that didn’t diminish the hold the novel had on me as a reader – and I didn’t see the final twist coming at all! I didn’t view it so much as a puzzle to be solved, but more as a fascinating look into a family’s struggle with a personality disorder that had devastating consequences. This is a quick read simply because it’s impossible to walk away from – so when you pick it up, plan on disregarding all other responsibilities! It has a powerful hold on you from the first page to the last!

If you’ve read it, what were your thoughts on Emma in the Night? Please comment below!

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Goodbye, Vitamin

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Meh. After all the hype this one received on #bookstagram, I had much higher hopes. This was disjointed, boring, and pointless. There wasn’t much I liked about this book and wanted to mark it as DNF except it’s such a small book – only ~200 pages – so I slogged it out. Ultimately, I didn’t care about any of it – not the storyline, characters, or purpose. I was glad when it was finished so I could begin a new book.

This one reminded me a lot of Eleanor Oliphant is completely fine; however, if you had to choose between the two, definitely go with Eleanor (read my review of Eleanor Oliphant here). 

What did you think of Goodbye, Vitamin?

Reincarnation Blues

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Thank you to the publisher, Del Ray, for proving me with a free finished copy to review – all opinions are my own!

First of all, that cover!! It immediately caught my eye and it was the original reason I wanted to dive into this book. It’s beautiful and colorful and I secretly want to stick it under a black light and see how cool it looks all lit up! Now, having read the book, I can clearly see it’s a visual representation of all the book’s events.

In all honesty, this is a tough review for me to write because I’m really not sure how I felt about the book. It was a fun, magical, whimsical journey that, at times, literally had me laughing out loud, crying real tears down my face, and shrinking from the pages in horror at the brutality of the words on the page. There were times I thought in my head, I am loving this!, and other times where I seriously contemplated not finishing it. Now, having finished, I’m truly on the fence with my thoughts and feelings.

What I loved? The author’s writing style; specifically, his humor. Michael Poore is quick-witted and funny. I loved some of the comebacks in the dialogue and, as I said before, I would literally laugh out loud. The characters were well-developed and I genuinely liked them. I thought the premise of the book was imaginative and unique (read the synopsis here).

What didn’t I like? I found the story somewhat jumbled and disjointed, making it difficult for me to relate to in the beginning. I like and enjoyed the storyline, but I was confused. By the time I’d read the whole book, I’m not sure the purpose of the story had been fulfilled?? And I just found some of the scenes so horrific and gruesome that I skipped those parts – which I NEVER, EVER do. Also, I’m not the hugest fan of fantasy writing and this novel definitely falls under that genre.

I’ve read some reviews from other readers and many say this is a book for Neil Gaiman fans. I would LOVE to talk to others who have read this one, so if you have, would you be so kind to comment below?

 

 

 

Sing, Unburied, Sing

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Thank you to NetGalley for a free digital copy to review – all opinions are my own!

Sing, Unburied, Sing by Jesmyn Ward hits the ground running! (You can read the synopsis here.)

From the first chapter, the reader is introduced to all the things: cancer, death, drugs, poverty, racism, prison, ghosts, absentee parents, hate crimes, and murder. Ward masterfully weaves all these themes into a tale that is irresistible and hard-to-put-down.

At first glance, it would seem that the reader would automatically sympathize with JoJo, the thirteen-year-old that seems to carry the weight of the world on his young shoulders. And the reader does! My heart broke into a million pieces over and over again because the injustice of what his life is just tore me up inside.

Also at first glance, it would seem the reader would automatically hate JoJo’s mother, Leonie, because she is a druggie and selfish and lacks one single ounce of motherly goodness. However, Ward nails each character’s perspective so well that I was full of empathy and compassion for Leonie – flaws and all.

By the end of the book, I couldn’t help but sit back in awe of the masterpiece book I held in my hands. Ward packs it full of drama and hurt and pain – challenging the reader to love a book that isn’t perfectly tied up in a pretty bow by the time the last page is read. The characters made their imprints on my heart and continue to quietly nudge themselves into my thoughts and musings – never quite leaving me. I imagine I’ll be visited by them from time to time for a long time to come!

Sing, Unburied, Sing will be released on September 5, 2017, so make sure you mark your calendars! You won’t want to miss out on this beautiful story! 

Hunger

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Writing this book is a confession. These are the ugliest, weakest, barest parts of me. This is my truth. This is a memoir of (my) body because, more often than not, stories of bodies like mine are ignored or dismissed or derided. People see bodies like mine and make their assumptions. They think they know the why of my body. They do not. This is not a story of triumph, but this is a story that demands to be told and deserves to be told.

What makes Hunger (read Goodread synopsis here) so important is the way it furthers the conversation surrounding obesity, body positivity, and our society’s expectations when it comes to what a woman’s body should look like. Roxane Gay is open, honest, and vulnerable in a way that demands to be heard. This book isn’t a pity party in any way; however, it does lend a more personal account to the issues behind obesity.

Gay was horrifically gang raped in the woods near her home when she was just twelve years old. Afterwards, she never told anyone what happened – not her parents, siblings, or friends. Instead, she turned to food to bury her pain, and also to change the way she looked – to become unattractive to men.

I ate because I thought that if my body became repulsive, I could keep men away. Even at that young age, I understood that to be fat was to be undesirable to men, to be beneath their contempt, and I already knew too much about their contempt.

Eating was Gay’s attempt at self-preservation. But while she tried to do everything she could to survive with her pain, society was doing everything it could to make her feel shame instead. Our society’s beauty standards when it comes to a woman’s ideal body are not only unhealthy, but often times, unrealistic as well. Images in magazines and on billboards seem to only feature women that are too thin – hip and collar bones that stick out, hollowed cheeks, and legs that look more like arms. It’s disheartening, and as a mother, it enrages me.

Books like Hunger continue to keep the body image conversations in the forefront of people’s minds. It challenges us to reevaluate what we accept at “normal” in society and demands that we do better for the young girls that are growing up to be the next generation of women. Gay’s vulnerability also demands that we pay attention to survivors of violence and/or rape so that we can give them a safe place to step forward so they don’t have to live a life mired in shame and guilt. This is the very least we owe our fellow humans – a safe place to speak and be heard and then supported and helped.

What were your thoughts on Hunger? Please leave a comment below!

Are You Sleeping

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This is a modern twist on the classic theme of #whodunit?, and I thought it was a really fun read! Thirteen years after Warren was convicted of killing his neighbor, Poppy Parnell, an investigative journalist, re-examines the case through a podcast series. She takes to social media and asks her followers to give her tips and leads which she then follows up on. It quickly becomes clear that Warren was wrongfully convicted, but if that’s true, then who’s the real murderer?

It was a somewhat predictable mystery, but because of the podcast connection, it gave it a new and fun twist. If you’re a fan of the podcast, Serial, you’ll love this one!

(Read the Goodreads synopsis of Kathleen Barber‘s Are You Sleeping here.)

What We Lose

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This novel started slow for me, but once I got used to the book’s style – and I got to Part II – the book really gained momentum for me and I ultimately finished it in two sittings (Read the synopsis here.)

In Part II, Zinzi Clemmons addressed the narrator’s, Thandi’s, experiences and feelings surrounding her mother’s illness and death. Thandi’s meditations on grief over the loss of her mother were beautiful and really struck a chord with me. I felt myself nodding my head up and down over and over in agreement with the sentiments. Like Thandi, I find myself get unrealistically worried if my dad has any sort of complaint about his health – even if it’s just a simple cold! While I recognize this as sort of hysterical, I can’t help it. So much of my remaining identity as a child of two people in this world depends on him being alive. Who am I when the two people who gave me birth no longer walk this Earth beside me? Completely unrealistic, I know, but it’s something I completely relate with.

And when I tried to speak, only tears came. The pain was exponential. Because as much as I cried, she could not comfort me, and this fact only multiplied my pain. I realized that this would be life; to figure out how to live without her hand on my back; her soft, accented English telling me Everything will be all right, Thandi.

 

Loss is a straightforward equation: 2 – 1 = 1. A person is there, then she is not. But a loss is beyond numbers, as well as sadness, and depression, and guilt, and ecstasy, and hope, and nostalgia — all those emotions that experts tell us come along with death. Minus one person equals all of these, in unpredictable combinations. It is a sunny day that feels completely gray, and laughter in the midst of sadness. It is utter confusion. It makes no sense.

While my favorite parts of the book were the sections on her mother’s illness and death, this book explores many topics. It also addresses racial issues that feel especially timely given the current events going on right now. I find it incredibly important to continue to read narratives written by people of color so that I can continue to explore and evolve in my own personal attitudes. It is my hope that diversity continues to push itself to the forefront in hopes that all of humanity can learn to embrace unity and love and peace.

Clemmons also writes brilliantly on motherhood, marriage and divorce, and feminism. These musings make it evident that Clemmons will have a long and brilliant career in literary fiction. She writes masterfully; she is so eloquent in her structure and sophistication.

My only complaint (complaint? Not sure that’s accurate…confusion??)…I walked into this book thinking it was a novel, but it reads more like a memoir. For reasons I can’t quite explain, that tiny detail was very off-putting to me and took me awhile to accept. I wanted a novel – a cohesive, structured story that I could invest myself in and the quick quips just a couple paragraphs long didn’t grab me and pull me in like I wanted them to. Instead, I found myself thinking, how much of this is actually autobiographical? And if it is autobiographical, why didn’t she just write it that way? Ugh. Admittedly, because of this confusion, it took me awhile to find my reading rhythm and made me disconnected to Part I. I believe it would be fair for me to re-read this section now that I have a better understanding and appreciation for the book’s style.

(Another book I read this summer that brilliantly handled dealing with cancer and death is The Bright Hour: A Memoir of Living and Dying by Nina Riggs; you can read my review here.)