Pictures in the Words

Title: Gulliver’s Travels

Series: N/A

Author: Jonathan Swift

Publication: 1726

Rating: ★

Summary: From the preeminent prose satirist in the English language, a great classic recounting the 4 remarkable journeys of ship’s surgeon Lemuel Gulliver.

Review: When my British Literature teacher told us we were going to read this, I was really excited. I’m a huge fan of A Modest Proposal and I was expecting to love another satirical masterpiece, courtesy of Swift. But, much like HG Wells’ War of the Worlds, this style just…isn’t for me. Five pages in and I wanted to throw the book across the room–I found myself wanting to do anything but read. This week, while I had to finish it, I was home from school because I had a flare up with my back. And I literally found more entertainment in staring motionlessly at my ceiling than reading. And those were really the only two options I had of things to do.

This isn’t a story–it’s a “travel log”, and it’s very similar to HG Wells in that it focuses on scientific stuff–lots of measurements, and math, and how things work. That just doesn’t interest me–tell me about your experience, not every insignificant detail about the culture, language, and politics of the place. Also, I’m a very dense reader. I don’t pick up on subtleties very well, and while that isn’t Swift’s fault, I found reading this incredibly boring because I didn’t think it was funny. There were a couple scenes where I was able to appreciate the satire, but most of it was satirizing British politicians and style of government at the time–little of which I could relate to, even when I did know what was going on. I was just very disinterested, and I’m glad that it’s finally over.

What I Liked: Spoilers!

• I did enjoy the passages regarding the Grand Academy, a place where lots of time and money is devoted to scientific experimentation. Fortunately, the irony of the ridiculous experiments was not lost on me (unlike almost everything else in this book), and I was able to actually laugh.  

What I Didn’t Like:

• Hopefully, this review will be fairly short, as there was just one basic thing that I didn’t like. That is, the writing was extremely boring. Random capitalizations, intense focus on mathematics and science, and while I understand the satire on extensive travel logs, I found myself rolling my eyes and groaning at the little, “But I won’t bore the Reader,” comments instead of laughing at the irony. I was extremely bored, and the “flowery” language that I’ve come to love of classics was definitely present–but not focused on imagery, and setting, and characters, and passion, but rather on how things work and what it looks like. And the worst irony is that usually, after the end of a long passage on what something looks like and how it functions, I was even more lost in how to picture it than if Swift had just said something simple. It was nearly impossible to get through, and if I could have Sparknoted the whole thing and wrote a review on that without feeling guilty, I totally would have.

• I learned far more about women’s breasts, and the anuses of human beings and various animals in this book than I ever cared to know.

Overall: Short, sweet, and to the point. This book just wasn’t my cup of tea, and while I won’t argue that Swift if a magnificent writer (when he’s talking about something interesting, he really is), Gulliver’s Travels and I just didn’t get along. However, I shall reward myself with watching some dumb, hopefully with Jack Black, silly movie version of this just to cleanse my mind of the book. If you were a fan of War of the Worlds or certain short stories from Edgar Allan Poe, then you’ll probably enjoy this. If you’re looking for an actual story, move along.

Title: A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man

Series: N/A

Author: James Joyce

Publication: 1916

Rating: ★★★★

Summary: Perhaps Joyce’s most personal work, A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man depicts the intellectual awakening of one of literature’s most memorable young heroes, Stephen Dedalus. Through a series of brilliant epiphanies that parallel the development of his own aesthetic consciousness, Joyce evokes Stephen’s youth, from his impressionable years as the youngest student at the Clongowes Wood school to the deep religious conflict he experiences at a day school in Dublin, and finally to his college studies where he challenges the conventions of his upbringing and his understanding of faith and intellectual freedom.

Review: Oh dear. What to say…

I enjoyed and partially hated this book. If I had just been reading it, straightforward and simple (with the help of Sparknotes, of course, because it’s nearly impossible to understand what’s going on), I would have liked it. A solid four stars for sure. And while that’s what I ended up giving it, I kind of want to throw the book across my room and stab it with something blunt. My poor AP English class had to answer more than two hundred basic questions about this book as we read, and it was a nightmare. I know I shouldn’t let that affect my enjoyment of the book, but it made me realize how little sense it really did make, and the time spent on reading this and trying to understand it made thinking about it completely frustrating. Plus, Stephen, the main character, was a gigantic, ego-centric, jerk of a person, and I could not stand him.

I really did like it, down to its core. Not enough to give it five stars and call it perfection in a novel–but enough to enjoy it. However, my experience with it has been, unfortunately, tainted–similar to my experience with Of Mice and Men.

What I Liked: Spoilers!

• I really enjoyed the third chapter of this book. Of course, if you read it, it’s all about hellfire and damnation and all the things you can do to sin here on earth and how you’ll suffer for eternity if you mess up without repenting. I’m not Catholic, like Stephen, nor do I believe in a God who punishes His children for being imperfect–which we all are. However, being very religious myself, the emotion in this chapter was stronger than it was anywhere else in the book, and I could finally understand Stephen and his feelings. Spiritual people sometimes have these exact moments of realization that something needs to change, and they’re responsible for making it happen. A renewal of faith, a rededication of oneself–things like that. I’ve experienced that myself, and when it happened to Stephen (although it felt like he wanted to change more out of fear of being punished rather than love of God–which I don’t necessarily agree with), I understood him. I connected with him on a personal level, and although it was still stream-of-consciousness writing, for the first time, it made sense to me. This chapter alone could have made me give the book four stars, and I believe it’s a large part of why it received the rating it did.

• James Joyce really does have a way with words. (Although if I wasn’t scared before, I’m absolutely terrified of one day tackling Ulysses.) Even if it was a headache at times, I have to admire the metaphors, the symbolism, and just the…beauty of the way he writes. It was amazing to see the way our minds work, put into words. While I may have hated it at times, and may have occasionally complained that the book should just be written like a book, artistically, this is really amazing. I thoroughly enjoyed the story as a whole, and I would not hesitate to read something else by Joyce in the future.

What I Didn’t Like:

• On the flipside, this is one of the most infuriating things I’ve ever read. The main reason being that I hated Stephen. He was alright as a little kid, because you could relate to him easily, but just…the way he does things bothers me. He’s sixteen and a complete sex addict who can’t go even a day without visiting the local prostitutes–and then suddenly, he’s “holier than thou” and refuses to even look at certain people because he’s afraid of sinning in this mind–and then, he turns down an offer to become a priest and turns right back into a jerk. An arrogant, self-centered, conceited jerk at that. His whole goal after discovering his “inner artist” is to put other people down and make them feel small if they don’t know the same words or things that he does. He even gets into an argument about a proper word–“funnel” versus “tundish”. And even though “funnel” is a much more accurate term for what is being described, Stephen blows off the person he’s talking with, saying, “Well, we call it a tundish in Ireland.” He can’t admit mistakes, he can’t admit that someone out there in the vast world might know more than he does, and he’s such an idiot sometimes, refusing to do things just because other people have already done it. I hated having him as a narrator, and I would have enjoyed someone far less infuriating. Although if this is really a semi-autobiographical novel from Joyce, there’s not much than can be done about it, especially if Joyce himself was an arrogant jerk.

Overall: I think this was an interesting classic, although definitely not for everybody. It can be incredibly confusing, and I would definitely recommend reading some kind of Sparknotes or interpretation of the text after finishing a chapter. I’d think about it long and hard and ask yourself if you really want to spend your time on something like this. If you’re not sure, don’t go for it. There wasn’t anything earth moving in here. If you really want to, by all means! You might enjoy it!

Title: The Summer Before I Met You

Series: The Lynburn Legacy (Book #0.5)

Author: Sarah Rees Brennan

Publication: 2012

Rating: ★

Summary: “Take care of your spirit, Kami,” said Megumi. “And don’t burn the place down.”

Kami grabbed both the suitcases and headed for the cabin she was sharing with Liz and Angela. Liz walked with her, and on their way Kami stopped.

“My Sobo was exaggerating,” she said earnestly. “There have been very few fires.”

Review: As with the last review, there also isn’t much to say, and I’ll be foregoing the “What I Liked/What I Didn’t Like” and “Overall” sections of this review.

The Summer Before I Met You is the second prequel to Outspoken and set in a different place and with different characters than The Spring Before I Met You. Here, we were introduced to Kami, the main character of Outspoken (who is also the “imaginary friend” of Jared). However, I liked this much less than its predecessor–the bizarre took on an entirely new level, and maybe I just need to be in the heads of the main characters instead of weird bystanders (or…who I’m assuming to be bystanders, as they aren’t mentioned in the synopsis of Outspoken).

Angela and Kami were not likable characters. Angela was as loving as a rock, and was completely rude to her best friend (and everyone else). I picture the meanest, rudest person I know and it doesn’t even come close to what a jerk Angela is. Kami is just…strange. I don’t understand her, but I suppose I just need to read the book to figure her out. But still, I simply could not follow the logic of this short story. One second they’re teaching kids how to play cricket, and the next they’re jumping a thief in the convenience store? It was so disconnected that I could barely follow what was happening, and it was an unpleasant place to be, in not understanding the story.

Perhaps it will make more sense when I read the full book, but this wasn’t a good precursor to it–it didn’t make me want to read Outspoken or learn more about the characters. I wouldn’t recommend reading it before the book, because you’ll probably just end up as confused as I am.

Title: First Night Memories

Series: Benny Imura (Book #0.5)

Author: Jonathan Maberry

Publication: ???

Rating: ★

Summary: Prequel to Rot and Ruin.

Review: There isn’t much to say about this particular short story, so I’ll be foregoing my usual “What I Liked/What I Didn’t Like” and “Overall” sections of this review.

Absolutely nothing about this really drew me into the story. The writing, I felt, was mediocre, and while I did like the section written from Tom Imura’s point of view about the first night the zombies showed up, the rest of it just wasn’t worth reading. But I was really turned off when it came to the last section of this prequel, written from two characters’ points of view, Benny and Chong. Chong gave Benny some packets of what are, essentially, zombie trading cards, and Benny exclaims that they’re “soooo cool”. Benny gets an especially cool card, and Chong says, “Niiiiice!” and Benny explains that he has “soooo wanted this card”. You get the idea. I cannot stand it when authors exaggerate words like that, because it’s completely immature dialogue. Use italics instead, not tons of extra vowels.

The rest was fairly amateur and didn’t draw me in. They called the zombies “zoms”, which also put me off, and I think I’ll find myself very wary when I begin Rot and Ruin. The idea of the apocalypse and the way the infection of zombies spread so quickly was interesting, and the idea of the outside areas being called the “rot and ruin” was also interesting. However, those were the only high points of this particular short story.

Title: The Spring Before I Met You

Series: The Lynburn Legacy (Book #0.25)

Author: Sarah Rees Brennan

Publication: 2012

Rating: ★★

Summary: A prequel story to Unspoken.

Review: I haven’t read Unspoken yet, although I must admit this has me interested. It’s very clear that Brennan has a lovely writing style, and I thoroughly enjoyed this short story up until about the last four pages. As someone completely new to the story and cast, I found Jared very interesting–especially the concept of his “problems”, as you’ll hear more about in the in-depth review.

However, some of it was really bizarre, and my biggest problem with it is that the characters felt completely unnatural and out of place in what is, currently, a realistic novel. It just didn’t feel right, and it turned me off.

What I Liked: Spoilers!

• Like I said, Brennan’s style is very…simple, but not overly so. It was easy to read, and definitely decent enough writing–enough that I would be interested in reading whatever she writes. I loved the way her mind seemed to work in regards to Jared and his imaginary friend, Kami. It’s not often that you see YA writers creating angsty teenage boys with an imaginary friend! (Who is a nerdy girl who likes to read, no less.) This prequel succeeded in making me want to read more about Jared and his character, and the writing was good enough to pique my interest.

What I Didn’t Like:

• Rosalind, Jared’s mother, didn’t feel like a real…person. She was bizarre, and overly so. Similarly, the Lynburn family was also incredibly strange, and I could not in a hundred years imagine giving a student’s personal information to such a weird family who wanted to claim ownership of him! It didn’t set right into the feel of the story up to that point, and I didn’t like how disjointed it felt.

• Speaking of disjointed, this prequel felt just like that. I didn’t feel like the mini-stories of Jared’s counseling sessions with Mariel formed a cohesive story–more like a bunch of little stories that composed…a short story. It didn’t feel like it blended together to create one plot, and the transitions and “glue” between the sections could have been written a lot better.

Overall: I’m not jumping out of my seat to read Unspoken based on this prequel, but I’m interested enough. I won’t be moving it up on my personal priority list or anything, but it was good enough that I’ve made a mental note that Brennan is a good writer, as far as I can tell, and perhaps when faced with Unspoken and another book, I might pick this one over an opponent! I’m interested to see how this ties into the full story.

Title: Career Day

Series: Jasper Dent (Book #0.5)

Author: Barry Lyga

Publication: 2012

Rating: ★★★★

Summary: Bonus, short story prequel to I Hunt Killers.

Review: I feel like I Hunt Killers has been on my to-read list for a lifetime, and when I just now noticed this short prequel story, I got really excited. I wanted to read something short and (hopefully) good in the midst of all these books I’m reading for school, and it seemed like the perfect distraction when I had a few minutes to kill. And surprisingly, I really enjoyed it! I’m usually wary of short stories because I either don’t like them, or feel kind of “meh” about them (there’s simply not enough time to get to know the characters/story to truly love a prequel, in my opinion), but I feel like this offered a great insight to how I would feel about the novel itself. I enjoyed Lyga’s clear style, and although I wasn’t overtaken with awe, I did really like it. I think it’s a perfect place to start before beginning the series. And offering it for free is a great way to get readers interested in your book!

What I Liked: Spoilers!

• The very end, on its own, would have been enough for me to fawn over this short story. Jasper is the son of a famous serial killer, and the way he talks about his father and growing up with such a demented man is very interesting to me. It’s a little funny, because when the teacher tells the class that, “If it only takes one word, fine,” to answer their career day questions, I actually thought to myself, “How could you answer any of these questions with just one word?” But Jasper, and Lyga through him, managed to create an incredibly powerful emotion through just one word. When asked what Jasper wants to be when he “grows up”, he simply answers, “Safe”. That alone was enough to start the waterworks with me! I’m supremely impressed at the emotion Lyga was able to create in only fifteen ebook pages, and my curiosity for I Hunt Killers has been piqued. I’m definitely moving it up on my to-read list!

What I Didn’t Like:

• I feel like Howie (Jasper’s best friend) is a huge dramatization of teenagers. Obviously, I don’t know his character very well yet, but everything he said was obnoxious and awkward. (Although, what do I know? Maybe sixteen-year-old boys really do spend their time talking about the boobs of their student teachers?) He pushed me away from the story when I wanted to get closer, and I hope that same problem doesn’t continue in the novel. Or, maybe I’ll get to know him better and learn to care less about how obnoxious he seems to be now.

Overall: If you’re thinking about reading I Hunt Killers (or already have, as the case may be), I would heavily recommend reading this, too. It’s a great way to test out, if you will, Lyga’s writing and characters without having to commit to reading a full book. If you’re like me, you’ll decide that you want to place more priority on reading I Hunt Killers (which sounds amazing), or, if you decide you don’t really like it, you lose nothing (except maybe ten minutes of your time) for giving it a shot. Either way, it seems like a win-win! Great introduction, Lyga. I look forward to reading more!

Title: The Raie’Chaelia

Series: The Raie’Chaelia (Book #1)

Author: Melissa Douthit

Publication: 2011

Rating: ★

Summary: When Chalice sets off for Branbury in the middle of the night with her grandfather’s instructions, she has no idea of the dangers that await her. The King’s men have destroyed her home village of Canton and she is suddenly thrown into a Terravailian world that she does not know. Lost and alone, she is hard pressed to evade the iron grasp of the madman who rules the land. With the help of a friendly Chinuk, an old man, and a book that she discovers along the way, not only does she find true friends and true love, but she also finds her true self and what it means to be the Raie’Chaelia.

Review: This is the first time where I felt like I honestly deserved some type of award for actually finishing. Like…it was that bad.

Before I begin this whole review, I just want to make it absolutely clear that I had a copy of this book long before the author drama went down on GoodReads and other websites with Ms. Douthit. It’s definitely not a story I want to delve into now, but I only bring it up because I want everybody to know that this a book I read with my school book club, and this review is a review of the book, and not the author’s behavior.

That being said, I honestly tried to keep an open mind. But there were very, very few redeeming qualities in this story and the writing–chief among them being that this was almost a good plot with a terribly poor execution. But, as a friend on GoodReads pointed out to me, it was only good in theory because it stole all the good ideas from other stories (there were plenty of characters/ideas parallel to things from the legend of the Holy Grail, Lord of the Rings, and Harry Potter, to name a few). At its core, it was hardly original to begin with. That doesn’t even begin to cover the overwhelming amount of grammatical issues, punctuation errors, plot holes, and clichés that littered this entire book. It took a…heroic effort, on my part, to actually finish. To be honest, I’m not sure what happened the last ten percent of the novel, because my eyes kept blurring, but I did take meticulous notes during the first nine-tenths of the book. Chances are very few of you have heard of this book anyway, and even then, probably only because of the infamous Douthit debacle that blew up online last year, so take it from me–this isn’t some hidden gem that you’re missing out on. Continue on in blissful ignorance of its existence, because you’re saving yourself many a headache by steering clear.

What I Liked: Spoilers!

• It’s true that I usually try to find something redeeming, even in books I hate. The most frustrating thing here is that if only Douthit hadn’t thrown up a thesaurus and stolen so many ideas from other people, it had the slightest, slimmest chance of being a somewhat decent novel. Not good–never good, based on what there was to work with–but still…there was a little inkling of something. But it was buried underneath all the ridiculous extra stuff, and we’ll never know whether it might have been something actually worth reading had it gone through a lot more editing.

What I Didn’t Like:

• I’m going to try really hard to organize my issues with this book, so forgive me if it’s a little jumbled. The first thing I noticed about this book that was very wrong was the immense info-dumping. The entire book was one huge info-dump, although sometimes it was a little more subtle. The opening chapters consisted of long details of Chalice’s entire backstory and history and the way the setting looked, etc. There was tons of explaining in order to help the reader “get into” the story. I guess I could understand it in the beginning, but the info-dumping continued throughout the whole book. The dialogue began to follow a very formulaic pattern of Character A asking Character B a question, and Character B answering with, “Good question!” and following with a very detailed explanation. Then Character A would say, “Oh, I get it! So this-and-this causes this-and-this?” and Character B would continue with their very long explanation, fueled by Character A’s understanding. It was incredibly frustrating, because the reader (or the characters) was never left to discover things on their own. As soon as something didn’t make sense, the characters would jump in and offer the entire history of that item, the reason it’s important, and why it’s relevant now. Which doesn’t make for an interesting story. On top of the info-dumping, there were just too many details I didn’t care about. Every time the characters sat down for a meal, we would get an explanation of every food they ate and how it was made and what it tasted like…and if they talked about a game or a custom, pages of explanation for that game or custom would ensure directly afterwards.

• There were lots of rip-offs of other things in this book. There’s some secret cup that brings immortality to whoever drinks of it (but only if they have a pure heart), which is a direct copy of the Holy Grail. The Chinuk race is a combination of Ewoks and chipmunks (the main Chinuk even has a brother named Mooky, which is almost a blatant plagiarism of Wookie, from Star Wars). There’s a famous horse called ‘White Beauty’, which is Black Beauty “re-imagined”. There’s a holiday celebrating the dead in the autumn, which is actually a blatant rip-off of an actual holiday (Day of the Dead). The last one I care to mention right now is the character of Ben–Ben is Gandalf and Aragorn all wrapped into one. In a status update detailing the paragraph where Ben is introduced, one friend (who has never read Lord of the Rings), commented after seeing a post on Tumblr circulating with Aragorn’s opening paragraph, saying how similar the two descriptions were. And she was very right–everything is exactly the same, to the dark hood pulled up, revealing nothing but the glint of his eyes, to speaking briefly with the bartender before resuming their secluded position in the inn’s bar. It was ridiculous, and I could argue that this is almost blatant plagiarism. It was absolutely ridiculous. Various little similarities continued throughout the rest of the book, and I simply do not have the energy to recall all of them at this moment.

• Should I even talk about Jeremiah and Chalice? Is that a can of worms I want to open? I suppose I should cover it, seeing as they were the main couple in the story…Well, the first thing you should know is that, despite what the description says, Jeremiah and Chalice are not true loves. They would like you to think so, but there was little to no evidence that they belonged together. Chalice breaks into Jeremiah’s house and after attacking him, he exclaims that he knows her. She absolutely does not recognize him at all. After a few minutes, Chalice realizes that, “Oh! It’s Jeremiah, who lived in my house for three years!” She seriously didn’t even recognize the guy who lived with her for three years! (And she was supposedly nine or ten when they were best friends.) The two immediately start acting as if they hadn’t been separated for nine years, and are surprisingly cozy considering they hardly know each other. They kiss once and continue to never speak of it again, until suddenly, there are complications with the two races marrying, and Chalice and Jeremiah are suddenly heartbroken because they won’t be able to get married. Their entire relationship is just kind of thrown at your out of the blue, because they have little to no chemistry, and they never talk about their feelings. They both just assume that they love each other, even though they never talk to each other about it, nor do either of them ever actual say “I love you” out loud to the other. They just made me angry because I’m such a diehard romantic, and they took “romance” and trampled it underneath an angry horse. (…Did that even make sense? It’s late. Maybe I should step away from the keyboard before I make any more wonky analogies.)

• The writing itself was just terrible. There were a lot of awful clichés (the main character’s birthday comes and goes, but she doesn’t mention it because she doesn’t want to “stress anyone out”; she has a weird birthmark on her shoulder; she also has a special pendant given to her by her grandfather; also an ancient heirloom from her grandmother; etc.) that I really could have done without. The dialogue was awkward and a weird mix of remaining medieval and being awkwardly modern, it was redundant and stupid, and just…bad. It’s obvious that nobody bothered to edit this book, because there were so many terrible grammatical errors–including periods where question marks should have been, and no ‘s in the possessive of certain characters, etc. The narration would say that “Chalice voice echoed in the hall”, when it is the voice of Chalice. Basic errors that could have been avoided if someone had just read through it. Douthit also tried to create a ton of different languages and places in this book, to a point where you can tell Douthit just hit a bunch of symbols on her Word Processor and called it good. One of the places was “Rôi’Státchèn”  and a line from one of the Chinukan royalty read, “Hâjyàh zûnlàkû, Státtèkráj”. It’s just ridiculous. In no world could just ridiculous words even begin to exist (as proved by another friend on GoodReads who talked about linguistics in her review). There was nothing redeeming in the writing. It was so amateur and bad that, while it was a funny-bad at first, by the end, I wanted to curl up in a ball and cry with frustration at its awful-ness.

Overall: To be honest, there’s probably more to talk about. But I don’t have the energy to keep writing or even keep thinking about this awful book anymore. I want to delete it from my phone and just move on with my life and put this terrible, terrible thing behind me. Douthit? Who’s that? I don’t even want to remember anymore. Delete from brain. Move along, people. Nothing to see here.

Title: Wuthering Heights

Series: N/A

Author: Emily Brontë

Publication: 1847

Rating: ★★★★

Summary: Set amid the wild and stormy Yorkshire moors, Wuthering Heights, an unpolished and devastating epic of childhood playmates who grow into soul mates, is widely regarded as the most original tale of thwarted desire and heartbreak in the English language.

Review: In preparation for the essay I must write on this book for my AP English class, I thought writing my review first would help warm up the creative juices (and I also might be sick of this novel by the time I finish this essay and find myself unable to write the review, hahah). I really enjoyed this novel, which I don’t find surprising–this time period was truly a great one for classic novels, and although I haven’t read anything from the Brontë sisters in the past, I knew I was going to love this! It wasn’t exactly everything I thought it would be, but I enjoyed it all the same. I found the characters intriguing, and all the thinking I’ve had to do with the character development (me essay is on why Heathcliff is an emotional vampire, hah!), being able to think about it and gain more insight to the characters than I would have reading it outside of class has helped me enjoy it even more. The narrators both bothered me immensely as characters, but I appreciated the (mostly) unbiased point of view the story was told from. All in all, definitely a great read, and a classic to be treasured!

(Meanwhile, while I write this review, I’ll be trying to think of a witty opening line for my essay. Hmm…)

What I Liked: Spoilers!

• I found the relationship between Heathcliff and Catherine very interesting. Separate, they were both insufferable and irritating (which I’ll cover later), but they really are identical in many ways, as Catherine points out early in the novel. They’re both crazy, but when they’re crazy together, it’s like…a good crazy? Heathcliff is passionate and secretive and too proud to admit he has feelings, and Catherine wants to make her family happy and do what’s going to be best for her (even if those are the wrong things and wrong ways to make her happy). There was an intense psychological dilemma between the two of them that made me want to keep reading, and, luckily, after they were no longer the focus, there were other characters to keep you engaged. The dynamic between Hareton and Cathy had me on the edge of my seat the whole time (at the expense of my class’s poking fun at my shipper heart), but they were both growing characters, and changed more than any other characters in the novel, from my point of view. I also enjoyed Edgar, after awhile, and the love he had for his daughter. Parent/child relationships in books get to me every single time because I feel like not enough authors pick up on how much a parent would do for their child, even at the expense of themselves. Overall, I found the cast engaging, and they were characters I actually cared about–I wanted to know where their stories would end and what would become of them in the end.

• I love the symbolism and metaphors and secret things in classic books. We’ve had to look at a lot of different aspects of this novel, but the vampirism aspect has, obviously (judging from my essay topic), struck me most. I find it so moving and sad that everyone who cares for or lives with Heathcliff ends up decaying and becoming ill for a long time before finally giving up and dying–except for the people who are just as hateful as Heathcliff himself, like Hareton (pre-Cathy) and Joseph.  I find it all very interesting and I enjoyed learning more about and looking for the symbolism there.

• This is probably obvious, but this Brontëcan write! Emily is really good, and I wish she had more out there than this and a few poetry collections. I enjoyed her dark style and the way the narration formed. It worked smoothly and I liked reading the simplistic style. It wasn’t overly complicated without being boring.

What I Didn’t Like:

• I really did find Catherine and Heathcliff insufferable most times. Heathcliff is an abusive jerk who actually kills puppies. He has some serious mental issues that need to be fixed, and he’s not this dark, romantic hero that he’s portrayed to be (at least, that’s the impression I thought I was going to have of him before I started this book). And Catherine…ugh! Catherine was a whiny brat who wanted everything her way and didn’t care who she hurt to get it. I don’t think either of them deserves anyone but each other, because everyone else is so much better than they are. I even didn’t like Cathy until the very end when she realized she was being a jerk to Hareton and tried to change her ways. I wanted to throw this book across the room sometimes, and I partially celebrated when Catherine died and partly ended my misery.

• I also hated Nelly and Lockwood, the two narrators. Lockwood was just an idiot (it was kind of random to me that he was thinking of getting together with Cathy–I’m still not sure where that came from), and Nelly was so self-centered, that my teeth hurt from how much I clenched my jaw. She claimed to love her charges and care about everyone, but she was deceitful and downright hateful most times, towards everybody. Having the vast majority of the book from her point of view made me want to rip my hair out at times. I wish the narrator had been more bearable, because a lot of times, it wasn’t an unbiased narration (but maybe that’s the point–I don’t know), but rather a very biased one indeed. She just bothered me more than words can explain, and I often felt like slapping some sense into her.

Overall: This is definitely a classic worthy of the rank!  Brontë did an excellent job with this novel, and it truly is timeless. I was glad to explore my feelings about the book and the characters more through analysis and I’m so happy that my class was able to read it and discuss it. I might not have picked up on a lot of what I did had I not been actively studying it and keeping careful notes the whole way through. I loved learning about it, and while it wasn’t perfect, it was definitely enjoyable and worth reading! I would put this on everyone’s “Top 100 to Read Before You Die” list!

A:
Above (Leah Bobet)
An Abundance of Katherines (John Green)
The Acts of King Arthur and His Noble Knights (John Steinbeck)
The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn (Mark Twain)
The Alchemist (Paulo Coelho)
Amelia Anne is Dead and Gone (Kat Rosenfield)
Among the Barons (Margaret Peterson Haddix)
Among the Betrayed (Margaret Peterson Haddix)
Among the Brave (Margaret Peterson Haddix)
Among the Enemy (Margaret Peterson Haddix)
Among the Free (Margaret Peterson Haddix)
Among the Hidden (Margaret Peterson Haddix)
Among the Imposters (Margaret Peterson Haddix)
Avalon High (Meg Cabot)

B:
Beowulf (Unknown)
The Book of Luke (Jenny O’Connell)
Brain Jack (Brian Falkner)
Buttermilk Hill (Ruth White)

C:
Career Day (Barry Lyga)
Catching Fire (Suzanne Collins)
Choker (Elizabeth Woods)
City of Ashes (Cassandra Clare)
City of Bones (Cassandra Clare)
City of Fallen Angels (Cassandra Clare)
City of Glass (Cassandra Clare)
City of Lost Souls (Cassandra Clare)
Clockwork Angel (Cassandra Clare)
Clockwork Prince (Cassandra Clare)
Clockwork Princess (Cassandra Clare)
Crewel (Gennifer Albin)
Cross My Heart and Hope to Spy (Ally Carter)
The Crucible (Arthur MIller)
The Curious Savage (John Patrick)

D:
Dance of Shadows (Yelena Black)
Dark Companion (Marta Acosta)
Dear John (Nicholas Sparks)
Death Comes to Pemberley (PD James)
Demonglass (Rachel Hawkins)
Divergent (Veronica Roth)
Don’t Judge a Girl By Her Cover (Ally Carter)
Don’t Turn Around (Michelle Gagnon)
Dreaming Anastasia (Joy Preble)
Dreamland (Sarah Dessen)

E:
Eclipse (Stephenie Meyer)
Edenbrooke (Julianne Donaldson)
Emma (Jane Austen)
Eragon (Christopher Paolini)

F:
Fahrenheit 451 (Ray Bradbury)
Fallen (Lauren Kate)
Fated (Alyson Noel)
The Fellowship of the Ring (JRR Tolkein)
First Night Memories (Jonathan Maberry)
Fracture (Megan Miranda)

G:
The Giver (Lois Lowry)
Gone (Michael Grant)
Grace Grows (Shelle Sumners)
A Great and Terrible Beauty (Libba Bray)
The Great Gatsby (F. Scott Fitzgerald)
Gulliver’s Travels (Jonathan Swift)

H:
Halo (Alexandra Adornetto)
Hamlet (William Shakespeare)
Haunted (Joy Preble)
The Help (Kathryn Stockett)
Hex Hall (Rachel Hawkins)
The Hobbit (JRR Tolkein)
How I Lost You (Janet Gurtler)
Hunger (Michael Grant)
The Hunger Games (Suzanne Collins)

I:
I Am Number Four (Pittacus Lore)
Ico: Castle in the Mist (Miyuke Miyabe)
I’d Tell You I Love You, But Then I’d Have to Kill You (Ally Carter)
If I Stay (Gayle Forman)
Inside Deaf Culture (Tom Humphries; Carol Padden)

J:

K:
The Knife of Never Letting Go (Patrick Ness)

L:
Leviathan (Scott Westerfeld)
Lies (Michael Grant)
Lock and Key (Sarah Dessen)
The Loners (Lex Thomas)
The Lost Years (TA Barron)
The Lovely Bones (Alice Sebold)
Lucky T (Kate Brian)

M:
Macbeth (William Shakespeare)
The Magnolia League (Katie Crouch)
Matched (Ally Condie)
Message in a Bottle (Nicholas Sparks)
Midnight Sun (Stephenie Meyer)

N:
A Need So Beautiful (Suzanne Young)
New Moon (Stephenie Meyer)
The New World (Patrick Ness)
The Nine Lives of Chloe King (Liz Branwell)
Nineteen Minutes (Jodi Picoult)
The Notebook (Nicholas Sparks)

O:
Oedipus Rex (Sophocles)
Of Mice and Men (John Steinbeck)
Of Poseidon (Anna Banks)
Of Sound Mind (Jean Ferris)
The Old Man and the Sea (Ernest Hemingway)
One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest (Ken Kesey)

P:
Persuasion (Jane Austen)
The Phantom of the Opera (Gaston Leroux)
The Picture of Dorian Gray (Oscar Wilde)
Plague (Michael Grant)
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man (James Joyce)
Pride and Prejudice (Jane Austen)
Pride and Prejudice and Zombies (Seth Grahame-Smith)
The Probability of Miracles (Wendy Wunder)
Pushing the Limits (Katie McGarry)

Q:

R:
The Raie’Chaelia (Melissa Douthit)
The Replacement (Brenna Yovanoff)
Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead (Tom Stoppard)

S:
Secrets (Tim Mettey)
Semi-Charmed Life (Nora Zelevansky)
The Seven Rays (Jessica Bendinger)
Shiver (Maggie Stiefvater)
The Short, Second Life of Bree Tanner (Stephenie Meyer)
Skinny (Donna Cooner)
Someone Like You (Sarah Dessen)
So Much Closer (Susane Colasanti)
Song of the Sparrow (Lisa Ann Sandell)
Spell Bound (Rachel Hawkins)
The Spring Before I Met You (Sarah Rees Brennan)
The Summer Before I Met You (Sarah Rees Brennan)

T:
Tartuffe (Molière)
That Summer (Sarah Dessen)
Thirteen Reasons Why (Jay Asher)
This Lullaby (Sarah Dessen)
Through to You (Emily Hainsworth)
The Toadhouse Trilogy (Book One) (Jess Lourey)
Tris & Izzie (Mette Ivie Harrison)
Turnabout (Margaret Peterson Haddix)
Twilight (Stephenie Meyer)
The Two Towers (JRR Tolkein)

U:
The Unbecoming of Mara Dyer (Michelle Hodkin)
Unwind (Neal Shusterman)

V:

W:
A Walk to Remember (Nicholas Sparks)
Warm Bodies (Isaac Marion)
War of the Worlds (HG Wells)
What’s Left of Me (Kat Zhang)
Where She Went (Gayle Forman)
The White Glove War (Katie Crouch; Grady Hendrix)
Will Grayson, Will Grayson (John Green; David Levithan)
A World Away (Nancy Grossman)
Wuthering Heights (Emily Brontë)

X:

Y:

Z:

#:
1984 (George Orwell)

Title: Clockwork Princess

Series: The Infernal Devices (Book #3)

Author: Cassandra Clare

Publication: 2013

Rating: ★★★

Summary: Tessa Gray should be happy - aren’t all brides happy?

Yet as she prepares for her wedding, a net of shadows begins to tighten around the Shadowhunters of the London Institute .A new demon appears, one linked by blood and secrecy to Mortmain, the man who plans to use his army of pitiless automatons, the Infernal Devices, to destroy the Shadowhunters. Mortmain needs only one last item to complete his plan. He needs Tessa. And Jem and Will, the boys who lay equal claim to Tessa’s heart, will do anything to save her.

Review: I’m not yet sure how to put my thoughts into words–but my friend is leaving on vacation tomorrow and I’m lending her my copy, so I need to try and do it while I still have it with me–and all the sticky notes I’ve made along the way. I’m still…not quite sure how I feel. But three stars? It must be the apocalypse. On the very rare occasion, I’ve given a couple Clare books four stars–Clockwork Angel and City of Fallen Angels just weren’t exactly as amazing as I’d hoped they would be, but I still enjoyed them. I still cared. So three stars? I’m not even sure how it was possible. I’m the last person on earth one would expect to see even a mildly negative rating of a Clare book from. Because, I’ll be honest…Cassandra Clare is my writing idol. All I’ve ever wanted from my own writing was to be able to make people feel the way she was able to make me feel. To write words and change someone’s life, to make them want to hold themselves together because it hurts in such a deliciously beautiful way. She inspires me, because she makes me realize it’s possible to achieve something like that. And this is like…having your mentor, the person who helped shape who you are, turn around and bitterly disappoint you.

This book is not what I was expecting it to be. Nor what I wanted it to be. I waited more than a year, in earnest, for the release. I’ve had it preordered for months. Words couldn’t describe the dread that filled my heart when I even thought about it–about how in the world any of this could have a happy ending. I always expect tragedy from Clare’s books, because that’s what they have always done to me. Ripped me apart and shattered me until I am nothing–only to slightly rebuild me in the end, and give me mostly bittersweet endings. And even now, to not be raving and squealing with delight–it physically hurts me to not be overwhelmed with amazement. It hurts to think that this could have happened–that I could feel so betrayed. And so far, this review makes no sense at all–but I guess that happens when you only have a few hours to process before being forced to put your thoughts into words for everyone to see. When I’m still not even sure how I feel. And, goodness, I’m actually going to cry. I’m going to cry while writing this, because I wish I could beg for time to be rewound and not read it. To live in that dream state where I imagined everything it would and might be…it was better than this. This world where Clare is not my hero at the end of the day is a world that doesn’t make sense–it doesn’t make sense to me that I want to cry because it hurts like the deepest betrayal, and not because it was beautifully heartbreaking. None of it makes sense to me at all.

But I’ll do my best to make some sense, just for a little while.

What I Liked: Spoilers!

• Clare has the uncanny ability to break my heart in one-liners. Little things, little sentences, that don’t have anything to do with the grand scheme of things, or the general scene of the moment. Usually about Will and his feelings for Tessa, although sometimes they’ll be little philosophical moments, or things that make me laugh or smile–or make me want to cry. I kept sticky notes of these quotes, because I knew they would not all be available on GoodReads immediately. In the beginning, there are tons. And I do mean tons. By the time I was a hundred and fifty pages in, there were already twenty sticky notes marking these moments. Clare is a genuinely good writer, despite what her critics may say–I’ve looked, and tried to find fault in her phrasing and prose, but I simply can’t. I don’t know if I’m blind to her flaws because I adore her stories so much, or what, but those flaws just aren’t there to me. Not in the generalities, at least. (Obviously, from the rating, something went wrong somewhere.) She is an emotional writer, and she digs her claws in and drags me into the story, and I can’t help but love everything and everyone. I can’t help but fall in love with it all, even when I try not to. And that’s why I look to her as a mentor; that’s all I want for my writing. To affect people, the way she has affected me. I find it admirable, even if some people will scoff at that admiration.

What I Didn’t Like:

• You can tell it’s a strange world we’re living in when I only have one bullet point for things I liked. But it’s true, no matter how many little things bother me, I don’t think I’m capable of entirely disliking Clare’s work–I’m too emotionally attached to find that much fault, if I’m honest. But just…I can’t quite explain it. Something that bothered me is a complaint I’ve had of late with her work. I feel like this is less one story than a bunch of short scenes, one shots, stuck together that eventually form one giant plot. The alternating points of view that constantly switch after a few pages doesn’t give me time to hold onto what’s going on with certain characters, and I feel tossed about. It doesn’t feel cohesive, and that really bothers me. It’s a bunch of short stories rather than one book–and I suppose that’s always the danger of a third person narration that alternates between a lot of characters. You run that risk every time.

• Everyone knows how pro-Will I am. I couldn’t care less what happens to Jem, because honestly, I don’t like Jem. Not anymore. However, everything about Will/Tessa just didn’t…sit right with me. After Will and Tessa think Jem is dead, stuff…happens. To put it bluntly, they sleep together. And that really disappointed me–not because I’m me, and I’m generally very against sex in books anyway, but because it didn’t…feel right. I marked a quote of Will speaking to Magnus, saying that even if Jem died, he wouldn’t be with Tessa–wouldn’t act like he was just waiting for Jem to die so he could have her. And Tessa acted the same way with Will. However, when faced with the potential that they may die, within a few hours of hearing the news of Jem’s passing, the sudden rush and passion that became their relationship (the sweet, balcony scenes of yester-book are completely non-existent now) turned into something that, not only didn’t fit these characters, was completely wrong with the time period. While I appreciated the immediate fade out on Will and Tessa’s “scene” in Cadair Idris, I felt shocked and sick that this is what their relationship had boiled down to–immediate, passionate, physical love, like all the emotion and heart and beauty behind their feelings were forgotten. In a time when showing your ankles was improper, and being alone in a room with a gentleman unrelated to you was frowned upon. I could not see Tessa–ever-proper Tessa–tearing her and Will’s clothes off and throwing them to the floor and giving it up. Nor could I see Will so willingly going along with it, a mere day after the death of his best friend–and love’s fiancé! It made no sense to me at all. All the guilt and beautiful pain I associate with these books was tossed out the window, and I wasn’t happy that my “team” was winning–that Will was finally being chosen. I was upset. I was a little angry. It felt wrong on every level. It was like, “Well, this is what the readers want,” and…it’s not what I wanted at all. Even if my OTP was “winning”.

• I should learn to stop reading epilogues. They always ruin the book. But, truth be told, about halfway through, I started getting bored. By page three hundred, I was wondering how the rest of the novel was going to play out. And after a one hundred and fifty page resolution, I was more than ready for the book to be over–especially since it was already nothing that I believed it would be. But the epilogue just…destroyed me. Sure, I was happy that Will and Tessa got married and all that cute stuff. But the idea of a really old Will and a really young Tessa was kind of creepy, I’ll admit. But I really hate it when authors tell me the characters’ life stories in the final epilogue. Because I like to leave it to my imagination and think of all the beautiful things they did. It shatters those dreams and fantasies when you put it into words. And then Will died, and I was like, “Well, that sucks, but I guess I’m okay with it.” But then…well, then I got really pissed off, to be honest. Because, suddenly, Jem was better. What? Excuse me? I was okay with this idea that the three of them could love each other and all, with Jem standing by as the Silent Brother/friend person thing in Will and Tessa’s happily ever after. That’s the way things should be. But he found a cure, and just like that, was stripped of the responsibilities of being a Silent Brother? I’m sorry, but I’ve lived in this world long enough to know that you can’t just magically stop being a Silent Brother. You can just un-sew your lips and have your eyes restored and stuff. But that’s not even the part that made me angry. It was that, after all that time, Jem had the audacity to still lay claim to Tessa. And Tessa, like an idiot, gave in to that claim. And I’m supposed to assume that she and Jem started over, on their own? With a lifetime ahead of them? That Tessa did the exact same thing with Jem that she had already done with Will? It wasn’t okay that she kissed him. It wasn’t okay that they ended up together. And what really makes me angry is that Clare only did this to make everybody happy∙. And I don’t care about being happy when I read her books–I gave up happiness long ago. Truth be told, I would rather Will have died in battle, died without ever hearing Tessa say that she loved him, than this awful, terrible thing. I do not believe you can fall in love that way twice. And I believe it’s even more unfair to live your happily ever after with two men in two lifetimes. And then justify it by saying that they are so similar, that it’s okay, and that by loving one it does not diminish the love for the other–and it does. It doesn’t work that way. It doesn’t. And that was the ending? The image I’m left with for the rest of my life, every time I want to come back to this series and realize that I can’t? And this is what physically hurts me. I didn’t care anymore. I didn’t feel connected. I felt absolutely nothing but bitter, choking disappointment. Because the Clare I admired wouldn’t have cared about making Team Will and Team Jem both happy–which makes me wonder if I’ve built up a person in my mind who simply doesn’t exist. If my years of looking to Clare for writing guidance, as inspiration, was all just a terrible lie, because in the end, it wasn’t about emotion and accepting that happy endings don’t need to happen, because she just forced one that was fake and ugly anyway? It almost makes me wonder if I should give this less than three stars–and it really hurts to think about. Because I love this series so much. Clockwork Prince is the best book by Clare I’ve read. And Clockwork Princess the most upsetting. I feel like I’ve been personally betrayed. I can’t describe it perfectly, so I know I’m rambling, and I’m sorry. I’m just…it hurts. It hurts to feel this disappointment. I want to curl up in a ball and cry because I feel so empty. And I should be feeling more.

• On a non-emotional front, there were some inconsistencies. To this point, I don’t understand the point the clockwork angel played, and could never picture it protecting Tessa in any way. It all seems to disconnected to me. Also, there’s a part where Tessa talks about how Charlotte wept for Jessamine’s death, even though she betrayed her, and I thought to myself, “How in the world did Tessa know Jessamine dies? Because that happened after she was kidnapped.” It’s not like Clare to have inconsistencies like that, and it kind of caught me off guard. Just another way this book surprised me in ways I didn’t expect nor want.

Overall: Of course, if you’ve come this far in the series, you need a resolution. You can’t read Clockwork Prince and be like, “Oh well, that was fun.” But be warned. If you’re like me…it won’t end well. I look at the book on my table, and I wonder how it’s possible that I could feel so personally wounded by it. And to be honest, I’m kind of grateful that my friend will have it and I won’t have to look at it and hurt all over again at the idea that it is nothing that I ever wanted it to be–just a happy-go-lucky fun ending. And I don’t read these books to be happy. I read them in order to destroy part of myself, because it’s simply a wonderful pain. And if that makes me weird, then I guess it makes me weird. But that’s the truth. And it hurts to think that this could have happened at all. I don’t know what to say. I don’t know how to put this empty feeling into words and still make sense. I suppose I’ll just leave this here the way it is and let it stand for what it is. Just…don’t have expectations. It’s impossible, I know. But you will only be disappointed. And it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever had to say in a review, because it’s like the world being pulled from beneath my feet. I don’t know how to cope with this. And it’s…strange.

Title: Inside Deaf Culture

Series: N/A

Author: Carol Padden; Tom Humphries

Publication: 2005

Rating: ★

Summary: Padden and Humphries show how the nineteenth-century schools for the deaf, with their denigration of sign language and their insistence on oralist teaching, shaped the lives of Deaf people for generations to come. They describe how Deaf culture and art thrived in mid-twentieth century Deaf clubs and Deaf theatre, and profile controversial contemporary technologies.

Most triumphant is the story of the survival of the rich and complex language American Sign Language, long misunderstood but finally recently recognized by a hearing world that could not conceive of language in a form other than speech. In a moving conclusion, the authors describe their own very different pathways into the Deaf community, and reveal the confidence and anxiety of the people of this tenuous community as it faces the future.

Review: This is another read for my American Sign Language III class—I’ll admit, I’m a little bummed that I’ve hated everything we’ve read so far this year (especially since I love my teacher, but my teacher loves these books). I’m not really a huge fan of nonfiction to begin with, which I’m sure came into play when I was rating this book, but this is also extremely boring nonfiction. It’s poorly written—not because it doesn’t have great research and all that jazz, but because it fails in keeping the reader interested. Instead, it throws hypothetical questions at you and restates the same thing over and over again, to the point where you want to throw it across the room. Which I almost did—and only didn’t do because this is a classroom copy and I might have had to own up to the damage done.

I almost gave this book two stars—almost. Because it is well written, in a technical sense, and the authors obviously know what they’re talking about. However, these ratings are about my personal enjoyment, and I just couldn’t stomach giving this anything more than what I felt it deserved—which was definitely a single star.

What I Liked: Spoilers..?

Like I said, I do applaud Padden and Humphries for their obviously extensive research and study. They really do know what they’re talking about, and not just because they are both Deaf themselves. I admire the work they put into this and how much time they must have taken to gather all this information for the noble purpose of educating people about Deaf culture—which is a thing that most people don’t know about. I know I had no idea “Deaf culture” was a thing before I began taking sign language in school. So…good job, guys. I really do mean that.

What I Didn’t Like:

Although I’m not a fan of nonfiction in general (and this will probably be the only nonfiction piece I review on my blog), I can tell interesting nonfiction from boring nonfiction—and this is definitely boring. Every chapter would focus on a specific portion of Deaf history—but it felt like there was such little material for each chapter, that the authors restated things several times (in almost exact wording) throughout one chapter. They were roughly twenty pages in every chapter, and each of those chapters could have been cut down to about ten or less if they had simply thrown out all the unnecessarily restated facts and quotes. I can’t tell you how many times I had to learn about George Veditz’s video about sign language! I made several notes of when things were repeated for the sake of making the book longer, and I have more sticky notes that I can to admit. The authors treated the reader like a kid with an attention span of three pages. So they would rehash all the same things over and over again, in exactly the same way. It wasn’t captivating in any way, and while they had a noble cause, it was very, very poorly executed.

There’s something about “Deaf culture” that bothers me. Every time we watch a documentary or talk about how Deaf people feel about hearing people, something rubs me the wrong way. Maybe it’s the way Deaf people get defensive when considered “handicapped”—even though they accept, nay, demand, special treatment and disability checks from the government for their differences. Maybe it’s listening to the horrors of the cochlear implant again and again (this book even mentioned the bane of my existence—the documentary, “Sound and the Fury”—I don’t even want to talk about my hatred for this film)—how hearing people are trying to “destroy” deafness in their attempt to eradicate it. If there were a way to make a blind child see again, why would a parent choose to let them live their life in darkness? The same concept applies to Deaf people. I can’t count how many times I’ve heard or seen complaints from Deaf people in books and documentaries that have thrown hissy fits whenever a relative or friend decides to get a cochlear implant for a deaf child. It just kind of makes me angry, that a person could honestly think that it’s better to let a kid live with a disadvantage, a disability (which deafness is) just because they don’t want their culture to die—which it won’t anyway, because deafness and Deaf culture will never be completely gone. It just bugs me, and maybe it’s because I’m hearing and have, of course, grown up hearing with little exposure to Deaf culture in general. But this book reeked of the ills of “hearing people trying to kill culture”, and I rolled my eyes a lot. So, while I was bored, I was also angry—and that’s really not a good combination.

Overall: If you’re seeking information about Deaf history and Deaf culture, I’d advise you to seek elsewhere—unless you want a really extensive history and more details than you can possibly stomach. If you’re Deaf or a student, like me, you might find this beneficial—few parts were interesting to me, at least. However, if you’re new to the idea of Deaf culture and are just interested in learning about their basic history, there are other places you can gather information—just search the oralist movement, or Alexander Graham Bell’s involvement with Deaf people if you want to know about the “ills” of hearing people against Deaf people. Some of it was intriguing, but not enough for my recommendation. 

Title: Death Comes to Pemberley

Series: N/A

Author: PD James

Publication: 2011

Rating: ★★

Summary: It is 1803, six years since Elizabeth and Darcy embarked on their life together at Pemberley, Darcy’s magnificent estate. Their peaceful, orderly world seems almost unassailable. Elizabeth has found her footing as the chatelaine of the great house. They have two fine sons, Fitzwilliam and Charles. Elizabeth’s sister Jane and her husband, Bingley, live nearby; her father visits often; there is optimistic talk about the prospects of marriage for Darcy’s sister Georgiana. And preparations are under way for their much-anticipated annual autumn ball.

Then, on the eve of the ball, the patrician idyll is shattered. A coach careens up the drive carrying Lydia, Elizabeth’s disgraced sister, who with her husband, the very dubious Wickham, has been banned from Pemberley. She stumbles out of the carriage, hysterical, shrieking that Wickham has been murdered. With shocking suddenness, Pemberley is plunged into a frightening mystery.

Review: As a general rule, I don’t use .gifs in my reviews–simply to keep a professional, clean layout that transfers neatly between my blog and GoodReads. But this time, I simply can’t resist.

Seriously, though. Don’t let the summary fool you, because it’s not at all what you think it’s going to be. Don’t get me wrong–it was a wonderfully well-written novel, and I’m sure James’ other work is fantastic. However, as a “sequel”, of sorts, to Pride and Prejudice and as a “murder mystery”, it was a terrible, terrible failure. It wasn’t what I was anticipating, nor what I wanted to read, and it had absolutely nothing to do with the characters I already know and love. It’s even more of a shame because James is such a good writer, but I guess that’s the way the dice falls sometimes.

What I Liked: Spoilers!

• James did a brilliant job of recreating Jane Austen’s style for this novel, and seeing as it’s essentially Pride and Prejudice fanfiction, I appreciated the adherence to style. I haven’t read any of James’ other work (and, honestly, probably never will, as “crime drama” just isn’t my genre), but she is an honest-to-goodness good writer. I loved the beginning of this book, the set-up of the universe, and it was, essentially, really well done.

What I Didn’t Like:

• Once Lydia ran in screaming that Wickham had been murdered, everything absolutely fell apart. Judging from the summary, you guess that Wickham has been killed–right? Obviously! I was excited to read about a plot like that, because I could imagine a hundred people wanting to kill Wickham for a hundred different reasons, and I thought it would be fun to try and figure out “who done it”. However, I was met with a much different story than I feel like what I was sold. Wickham is found in the woods, kneeling over his friend’s body–a man named Captain Denny, who was not present at all in Pride and Prejudice, and is, if I remember correctly, only part of James’ additional cast. I felt immediately deflated. The whole prospect of this story flew out the window, and I was forced to drag through hundreds of pages of “Did Wickham kill Denny” and the British court process. There was hardly even a climax. The point is that I simply don’t care about who killed Denny. I don’t care about Denny. I don’t know him. Why would I read a spin off of one of my favorite books when the victim wasn’t even part of that cast? Especially since the summary was a blatant lie–sure, Lydia did run in screaming that she thought Wickham had been murdered, but it was set up that way because they knew nobody would choose to read this book knowing it was about some random guy. And the murderer? Turned out to be another random guy. So why do I care? I definitely felt cheated on this one. The Jane Austen characters I love were nothing but sidekicks.
• They were out of character at that, too. I think what bothered me most about their attitudes were the relationships between everyone. Darcy wondered constantly if he was wrong about treating Wickham the way he had, and even seemed to kind of forgive him in the end–if I were Darcy, I surely wouldn’t have freaked out so much about what might happen to him, especially if I thought he had killed a man. Elizabeth seemed to worry that she still had feelings for Wickham, from before she found how what he was. That’s a knife in my little shipper heart! There is absolutely no way Elizabeth would have retain feels for Wickham–especially after marrying Darcy (and having two children with him, no less!) And, my goodness, don’t get me started on Colonel Fitzwilliam. Poor man! He definitely got shafted in this one. Where there was once a sweet and gentle hearted man, I found someone entirely different–cold, unpleasant (especially around his “rival” for Georgiana’s affection), and downright mean at times. He also defended Wickham time and time again, and you would think, as co-guardian to Georgiana at the time of Wickham’s “seduction” of her, he would retain some of the feelings Darcy has! They were completely wrong, and if you’re going to publish a “sequel” about characters as beloved as this cast, you definitely need to keep them in character; not turn them into something else entirely because it suits the book better.

• Nothing in this book made sense. It was alright up until Wickham was pardoned. Then Fitzwilliam comes to say that Wickham has gone and slept with Louisa (another side character) in Pemberley Woods and has gotten her pregnant, and she had to give the baby to her sister, but her sister won’t take it, and then she took it to Mrs. Younge, who, GASP, is actually Wickham’s half-sister (because evidently, Wickham’s father had no respect for his marital vows, either), but she threw herself under a carriage, and then Wickham told Louisa that he was a poor soldier whose wife died years ago, and that he would come back and marry her, which only pissed her off when she found out the truth. It was going pretty well until Will (the invalid brother of Louisa who is, literally, on this death bed) is revealed to be Denny’s killer (because, definitely, a man who’s dying and can’t even eat broth is for sure capable of hitting a grown, armed man in the head with a fireplace poker in the dead of night, so that he falls right onto a gravestone and dies) because he thought it was Wickham, back to seduce his sister some more. Okay. Deep breath, everyone. The book descended into absolute chaos in the last fifty pages. It was the most horrendous disgrace of Austen’s character, and I was appalled that this was even considered a real book, when all it is, is poorly executed fanfiction. It would have gone over much better if James had just created her own cast in the same-ish setting, because at least she wouldn’t have angry fans (like me) complaining about all the inconsistencies and ridiculous soap opera plots. Austen is rolling over in her grave! It was absolute madness, and only made worse by the attempted inclusion of other Austen characters, who I noticed from Persuasion and Emma and possibly others. It didn’t work. None of it worked. It just should have ended with Wickham’s release, because then at least we wouldn’t have to worry about this insanity.

Overall: If you’re already a fan of James’, then by all means. I won’t deny that she’s a very good writer, and I did enjoy that, at least. However, if you, like me, are interested in this because you’re a diehard Pride and Prejudice fan, turn the other way. This definitely isn’t the story for you. What I expected to be a Clue-esque murder mystery turned into an entirely unrelated crime drama, and definitely wasn’t what I was expecting, nor what I wanted. This was an absolute disgrace to Jane Austen, which is only made more unfortunate by the fact that this would probably be a smashing success if only Austen had not been included at all. The beginning was promising enough, but quickly descended into something I dreaded reading and would rather have left on the shelf at Target.

Title: Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead

Series: N/A

Author: Tom Stoppard

Publication: 1967

Rating: ★★★★

Summary: Acclaimed as a modern dramatic masterpiece, Rosencrantz & Guildenstern Are Dead is the fabulously inventive tale of Hamlet as told from the worm’s-eye view of the bewildered Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, two minor characters in Shakespeare’s play.

Review: We, again, read this in my AP English class. I wasn’t expecting to be all that impressed–to be honest, I started getting a little tired of the drama unit, as plays are so much easier to appreciate when you see them acted out–not analyzed to death based on words alone. For me, the utter lack of tags and trying to figure out the characters based on what they have to say alone (and very, very few stage directions). So I wasn’t expecting to like this one very much at all. But I was pleasantly surprised. Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead was funny, and surprisingly easy to understand (at least to me). I loved the humor of these two characters, and even though this is essentially Hamlet fanfiction, it was really enjoyable. It’s definitely the best play I’ve read in a long time, and by far the most entertaining and engaging. I didn’t feel lost without stage directions; I understood the characters and their personalities even without seeing it before my eyes. The actors are not what make these characters come to life, but the actual words, which I think, for a playwright, is a huge accomplishment. So many playwrights rely on casts and the actor interpretations to bring life to their creations, and that, in my opinion, is just plain wrong. A play should be alive and engaging on its own. Stoppard really did a great job with that, and it even made Hamlet (which I watched after reading this) more enjoyable than it was before.

What I Liked: Spoilers!

• I loved how seamlessly Stoppard tied this play into Hamlet. Entrances and exits of all the other characters would coincide, word for word, with the original play, creating a flawless mixture of both. I read fanfiction very rarely (although I did more often when I was younger), but when I do, I tend to exclusively read in-universe stories, including point of view chances–which is essentially what this play is. It makes me a little bit giddy when writers directly reference the work they’re playing with, because it shows me that they cared enough to respect and work around the original universe. Stoppard took great care with placing his characters in parts of the stage where they couldn’t be seen, and following the entrances and exits Shakespeare created and set up. You can tell he respects the original work, and didn’t just think, “Hey, these two look like they’d be fun to write about.” I never even noticed that the cast of Hamlet messes up Rosencrantz and Guildenstern’s identities the majority of the time. I appreciated Stoppard’s dedication, and it made reading all that much more of an enjoyable experience.

• This play was both humorous and philosophic. Rosencrantz and Guildenstern could be in the middle of a silly argument or discussion when one of them could go off the rails entirely and start musing about fate, and death, and mortality. One of my favorite scenes is when Rosencrantz realizes that, at some point as children, we all must have become aware of the possibility of death. We must have known at some point that we did not live forever, because we feared for ourselves and our own safety, even when we weren’t conscious of it. I find that incredibly interesting, and each time they brought up something else, I was even more interested. I absolutely loved it, and it made even the parts that weren’t humorous interesting enough that I wanted to keep reading. The play’s success and brilliance isn’t based solely on its funny parts.

• I cared about the characters. I cared about what happened to them. I mean, of course I went in knowing that Rosencrantz and Guildenstern were going to die–but I still dreaded it. I still wished desperately that it wasn’t going to happen. If I hadn’t been in class at school, I would have burst into tears entirely when it finally happened. There was no suspense as to whether they’d live or not. Yet, still I was holding my breath, hoping for the impossible. It’s so engaging that you can’t help but care about what happens to these two main characters, and as an emotional reader, I really appreciated that.

What I Didn’t Like:

• This, unfortunately, is one of those books where I can’t pinpoint exactly why I couldn’t give it a perfect rating. There’s nothing specific that I didn’t like; I just didn’t feel like it was flawless enough to give a flawless rating. I didn’t love it enough for a full five stars, so I settled on four. This rating feels right, though, so I’m going to stick with it.

Overall: Lovers and haters of Hamlet alike will enjoy this–it helps bring to light some of the less understandable parts of the original play, and those who love it, well–what’s not to love? If you’re a reader of contemporary plays, this would also be a good fit for you. I’m not a huge fan of plays, and I didn’t feel all that strongly about Hamlet one way or another, but I still enjoyed this immensely. I thought it was very well-written, engaging, and worth the time. I look forward to seeing a film version of it soon to continue the experience!

Title: Message in a Bottle

Series: N/A

Author: Nicholas Sparks

Publication: 1998

Rating: ★

Summary: Thrown to the waves, and to fate, the bottle could have ended up anywhere. Instead, it is found just three weeks after it begins its journey. Theresa Osborne, divorced and the mother of a twelve-year-old son, discovers it during a seaside vacation from her job as a Boston newspaper columnist. Inside is a letter that opens with, “My Dearest Catherine, I miss you my darling, as I always do, but today is particularly hard because the ocean has been singing to me, and the song is that of our life together.” For Garrett, the message is the only way he knows to express his undying love for a woman he has lost. For Theresa, wary of romance since her husband shattered her trust, the message raises questions that intrigue her. Challenged by the mystery, and driven to find Garrett by emotions she does not fully understand, Theresa begins a search that takes her to a sunlit coastal town and an unexpected confrontation. Brought together either by chance or something more powerful, Theresa and Garrett’s lives come together in a tale that resonates with our deepest hopes for finding everlasting love.

Review: Steadily, I’m becoming less and less impressed with Nicholas Sparks. I thought I couldn’t dislike a Sparks book more than I disliked The Notebook, but I was quickly proven wrong when reading Message in a Bottle. While this book didn’t tick me off nearly as much as the former did, at least The Notebook had some redeeming qualities, of which I found none in this novel. The plot was interesting enough, and started out with hope, but from the overly corny letters to the completely unhealthy relationship between Theresa and Garrett, everything just flopped. A lot. To top it off, Sparks isn’t even that great of a writer. It’s staccato, with abrupt dialogue and way too much tell-don’t-show on every page. It was a headache to read, and I rolled my eyes more than once, surprised that it could keep getting worse. Near the end, it almost found a weird kind of redemption, but even that fell in the end and I was stuck thinking about the pros of this book. As you can tell, I didn’t find much, if at all, that was redeeming.

Even if I wasn’t a fan of “romance” novels (ie, the main couple feels the need to sleep with each other all the time), I don’t understand how anyone could like this book much anyway. There’s…nothing to like. It was boring, unemotional, unbelievable, and completely unrealistic. And it made me very un-happy.

What I Liked: Spoilers!

• To be honest, I was expecting something much different than what I got. When Theresa picks up the first letter from the beach and reads it, the image of a sweet, old man came into my head immediately, and I was excited for the rest of the story. Instead, something else entirely was introduced (that was not nearly as pleasant); Sparks had something good going for him with the idea of a message in a bottle, and had it been executed a little better, I would have enjoyed it much more.

What I Didn’t Like:

• To pick up my last comment, I was expecting a cute journey in which Theresa meets and finds the imagined cute old man who wrote to his dear Catherine. I imagined Theresa meeting his grandson, or…I don’t know, friendly neighborhood hot guy, to be the love interest of this novel. Not only did the idea of Theresa falling in love with a man supposedly madly in love with another woman, but the letters sounded nothing like what an adult man would write. They were incredibly old fashioned, overly cheesy. I was stunned when Deanna, Theresa’s friend, suggested she go find “Garrett” and see what happened between them. But I held out hope that it would make sense with his personality–which is never did. I didn’t like the plot that was unfolding because it made absolutely no sense. Why would a man passionately in love with and still grieving over his wife suddenly and miraculously fall in love with a woman like Theresa? I was immediately wary of the rest of this book.

• That was, unfortunately, only the beginning of many disappointments. As soon as Garrett was introduced, I was slapped in the face with a third person omniscient narration–a narrator that is inside the head of all characters and is completely all-knowing–that also had no breaks or warnings between point of view changes. Suddenly, the reader was privy to all Garrett’s thoughts about Theresa, and Theresa as a main character was almost forgotten about entirely. But it switched often enough to give me a headache. It completely erased the mystery of what was going on in the heads of either character. Garrett was a mystery to the reader, and to Theresa. I looked forward to getting to know him through Theresa’s eyes. But that didn’t happen. Immediately, Garrett explained, in the narration, everything that had happened with Catherine and all his thoughts about Theresa. It was so irritating–I just wanted a little bit of suspense, and it was all taken away immediately. There were even some lines that were from the perspective of Kevin, Theresa’s son, and Jeb, Garret’s father. The narration was from everyone’s point of view, and we were left with nothing to wonder.

• Theresa and Garrett go on a date the day they meet. They got sailing together. Oh well, that’s nice, I guess. Sailing is fun. The next day, Garrett asks Theresa to lunch and then they take a little walk along the beach. They hold hands–which is going a little fast for me, but oh well. (Theresa also talks about some of her therapy sessions, which I, personally, would have saved until at least date number three, but to each their own, I suppose.) Garrett then asks Theresa to have dinner with him at his house that same night. I had an inkling of what might be coming, but I brushed it off–I assumed that Sparks would have more sense than to have insta-love to prominent that his main couple would get together on literally the second day of knowing each other.

            But I was wrong.

            Everything about their relationship was so wrong. I guess I started off with the most mild of Sparks’ books, because I definitely had to skip about seven pages in this one. I don’t find any appeal in reading sex scenes. My philosophy is that I wouldn’t watch a film with graphic sex scenes, so it would make no sense for me to read a book with the same thing. I skipped forward until the next morning, where it was described nicely that for the next four days, all they did was hang out, “make love” (hah–really they were just screwing each other–absolutely no love involved), and eat some more food. For four days. Excuse me, what? Most people complain about insta-love in young adult books, but Sparks really takes the cake. By the end of Theresa’s little vacation, Garrett was already saying, “I think I love you”–and at least he had the decency to throw in the ‘think’. This really peeved me because it was completely unrealistic. Nobody falls in love in five days, and it’s absolutely ridiculous that anybody could see something romantic in Theresa and Garrett’s constant “love making”. I was so exasperated, and every time they mentioned “We’re still getting to know each other”, I would just get angrier. Sleeping with someone isn’t a way to “get to know them”, and there’s a downright terrible message to send to readers of any age. I was totally fed up by this point.

• I didn’t believe Garrett and Theresa’s relationship. Garrett is supposedly broken hearted and still madly in love with is dead wife, Catherine. He’s written her heartbreaking letters about that love and how much he misses her. Yet, within two days, he’s already sleeping with a woman he barely knows, and within a week, he’s in love with her. To paint a picture of a man who loves deeply and for forever, and then turn around and make him conveniently fall in love that quickly is ridiculous. And Garrett is not a healthy person. He calls Theresa every night and early in the mornings, just to check on her. He finds her office address and sends tons of flowers there, and constantly tells her that “he misses her and just wants her to know it”. He’s showing every sign of a detrimentally clingy partner, and his actions are completely unhealthy. He’s kind of creepy, actually. He becomes completely infatuated with Theresa and it’s impossible to understand why. To top it off, Theresa is keeping a huge secret from Garrett–she found his letters, published one, and essentially went to North Carolina on a stalking mission. She found out who Garrett was, and flew to another state to find him. That’s creepy, too. Their relationship was unhealthy. When Garrett finds out about Theresa knowing about his letters, he gets angry and flies home. Theresa follows him back to North Carolina, tells him “not to ask questions”, and they sleep together again, like that’ll be the answer to everything. They weren’t even emotional, but completely based on physical lust. They had no emotions other than “I’m comfortable with you” that pointed to why they should be together. And every time they were together and Kevin was around, they were lamenting the fact that they couldn’t sleep together. (But even then, they make it work by “being quiet”. Ugh!) The only part of this book that made sense was them not getting together in the end.

• The writing was just poor. There were full-length flashbacks, name dropping, full clothing descriptions, and paragraphs dedicated to back story whenever anyone was introduced. It was amateur and a tell-don’t-show attitude was prevalent throughout this entire novel. Sparks has the ability to create “love stories” that are interesting, but they fall flat all the time. His writing is not what makes the stories so good, and perhaps that’s why so many seem to prefer the film versions of his novels over the books themselves. He’s not that great of a writer, plain and simple. I hate to say it, but it’s the truth. It wasn’t an enjoyable read.

Overall: Well, I think I’ve said quite enough. This is by far my least favorite Sparks novel to date. None of it made sense and there were literally no redeeming qualities about any of it. It was absolutely unbelievable and showcased a seriously unstable couple, whose relationship was founded on sex, parading as emotion. I felt nothing throughout the whole thing except an overwhelming sense of exasperation and irritation. It just wasn’t worth the time. I got halfway through and wondered if it was really worth it. I seriously considered giving up because it wasn’t going anywhere, and nearly skipped the last twenty pages altogether. However, I stuck it out, and I’d now advise against reading this. It just wasn’t an enjoyable read, and to top it off, it praised a completely unhealthy relationship! Move along, guys. Move along.

Title: Dance of Shadows

Series: Dance of Shadows (Book #1)

Author: Yelena Black

Publication: 2013

Rating: ★★★★

Summary: Dancing with someone is an act of trust. Elegant and intimate; you’re close enough to kiss, close enough to feel your partner’s heartbeat. But for Vanessa, dance is deadly – and she must be very careful who she trusts…

Vanessa Adler attends an elite ballet school – the same one her older sister, Margaret, attended before she disappeared. Vanessa feels she can never live up to her sister’s shining reputation. But Vanessa, with her glorious red hair and fair skin, has a kind of power when she dances – she loses herself in the music, breathes different air, and the world around her turns to flames…

Soon she attracts the attention of three men: gorgeous Zep, mysterious Justin, and the great, enigmatic choreographer Josef Zhalkovsky. When Josef asks Vanessa to dance the lead in the Firebird, she has little idea of the danger that lies ahead – and the burning forces about to be unleashed.

Review: I was kind of surprised by how much I enjoyed this. The cover is, of course, absolutely gorgeous, but as we’ve learned, beautiful covers do not beautiful stories make. Maybe part of it was the fact that I had nothing else to do for six hours while I sat in a plane except read this (and reading anything for that long makes you kind of attached to it), although I did have my eye roll moments. Maybe if I’d had more time to process and digest the story, I would have found more of those moments and cared more about the ones I did find. However, I can’t change the circumstances, even if they may have affected the final rating.

The writing was fairly decent, and I really did enjoy the story. I’ve never read a ballet book before, let alone a paranormal one, and everything I thought “Black Swan” would be, I found in this (more appropriate) novel. The psychological aspect intrigued me (I’ve always been a fan of “mess with your head” types of books), and I feel that my interest was peaked and held, despite its flaws, throughout the story because I enjoyed that so much. Admittedly, the characters were kind of boring (except Justin–I found him interesting) and fairly predictable, and the plot at its core wasn’t all that unique, but I still managed to really like it. I’m really looking forward to the next book in the series, and I’d recommend it. Especially to those of you who are like me and chose not to see “Black Swan”–I feel like this kind of made up for it.

I received an ARC of this book for review from the librarian at my school, and this review is not associated or for the publisher in any way.

What I Liked: Spoilers!

• The mental part of this book made me really curious. The long string of dancers who supposedly “cracked” under the pressure (also reminiscent of “Black Swan”–although, I swear, I’ll try to stop mentioning it now) made me really think about the pressures of ballet that I never really thought about before. The performing, especially in such a professional arena has got to be stressful. I’m no dancer–I’ve never thought about it before. The idea that dancers, practicing over and over again, hours and hours a day without rest, could break from reality and start having hallucinations and “breaking”. I think that’s what mostly kept me reading–I was interested in the plot, and part of me was really hoping there wasn’t going to be a paranormal aspect to the book at all. (Although I knew that wasn’t going to last very long.) I think if it hadn’t had that crazy demon dancer thing at the end and had continued with the psychological aspect, it would have been a bigger success, not only with me, but most reviewers–it would have been different from most young adult books running around right now, and that would have been a major plus.

• I think Black is a fairly good writer, if only a little rough around the edges. There were issues with characterization and set up around the plot, but generally speaking (with a few exceptions), I enjoyed reading Black’s writing. (Although she really didn’t think it through when she made Zep’s last name Black as well…) I would read something else by her because I did like her writing. All it needs is a teensy bit of work on the big picture stuff.

What I Didn’t Like:

• I didn’t feel like any of the characters were believable, except maybe Vanessa and Justin. Vanessa’s group of friends were kind of weird; they were all “individuals” or whatever, but I certainly didn’t understand why Vanessa trusted them so much that she literally told them every little thing that happened. Every chapter there was a “relaying” period where Vanessa would summarize (although, thank goodness we didn’t have to endure the summary in the text itself) everything that was new for her friends. I certainly didn’t trust the three other characters, so I’m not exactly sure why Vanessa did. They were just…boring and kind of unnecessary. Zep also bothered me; he was so generic. The best dancer at the school, secretly plotting against the girl he’s pretending to be in love with–his name is Zep Black–that’s just asking to be called out for cliché. Justin was the only one I even remotely liked, and I can’t really put my finger on why I didn’t roll my eyes at him. I’m sure I had plenty of reason to. Then don’t get me started on Nicola and Nicholas–the twins. Seriously, Black? You had to do that?

• The paranormal parts of this book simply didn’t fit. There were three or so chapters dedicated to the final dance, where Vanessa must summon the demon. And maybe it was because I was trying to read it in Hawaii, but it was just so…boring. I didn’t really care. It didn’t add up very much. And then the end just kind of slaps you in the face. The “Lyric Elite”–what was up with that at all? I’m really not sure, not even now. Vanessa’s mom is somehow incredibly clingy, but it just fine with her daughter running off to Paris with a strange boy she doesn’t know? Hmm, sounds a little fishy to me. The convenient explanations bothered me, and I hope that gets shaped up in the coming book(s).

Overall: The most interesting part of writing a review is splitting up likes and dislikes and having so much to say about both. I feel like I might start rating my books after I’ve finished the review. However, I wouldn’t change my four-star decision. Yes, there were issues; I definitely know that. Some of them were glaring and irritating, but most of the time, I was really happy with what I was reading. I enjoyed myself, and despite the flaws, enjoyment is really what we’re looking for when we’re reading, right? This book accomplished that, and I’m looking forward to finishing the story as the series progresses. I would call this a (mostly) successful debut from Yelena Black.