turrean's reviews
2265 reviews

One long trigger warning, with barely a bit of the supernatural in sight. A decided paucity of witches. Everybody needed therapy.  A friend called this “Brontë Lite” which is very apt, aside from the odd choice to tell this in the present tense, which seems very trendy. 

Violent death of an animal, dreadful death of a child, pregnancy loss, incest. I will say that the love interest (the most egregious bore) is perfectly matched with the dull heroine.

Quirky and light, with amusing characters and family dynamics, a romantic Old Western fantasy setting (“Evening, Marshal!” *tips hat*) and a clever mythology. I enjoyed the main characters and their various sidekicks very much, though I rolled my eyes mightily at a late-breaking, maddeningly melodramatic, soap opera-esque ending to the “enemies-to-lovers” trope. The POV characters took turns being assholes and five minutes of direct conversation would have made the last third of the book far shorter and less irritating. There’s an ongoing Unknown Correspondent trope, too, which raises some serious doubts about the intelligence of the female lead.

I was mostly charmed by the fantasy world, though I raised my eyebrows at some of the overlap between our world and the fictional one. For example, one of the main characters uses the phrase “lather, rinse, repeat,” which jarred me right of my happy immersion in the author’s world. Names are largely European derived and  for the most part characters read as “white” which may further the American “Western” vibe for some readers (as long as you don’t think too deeply about the real Old West, which was peopled by North and South Americans, Asians, Africans, and Europeans. For a given value of “real,” I grant you.) There’s a character with a vaguely Hispanic last name but she never appears onstage, and of course, the name is still European in origin. 

Much of the satisfying lack of homophobia (same sex relationships are common and unremarkable) is sadly undermined by the plentiful misogyny. A pregnant character is described in an almost caricatured way: cankles, waddling, and hemorrhoids, while her labor is played for laughs: the yuck factor of her water breaking, how she swears and her father flippantly dismisses her pain as “twenty hours of yelling.” WTF 😳  The male lead thinks of the woman main character largely in terms of her “fucking magnificent” boobs and other curves. Even though women seem to wield plenty of authority (they are law enforcement, doctors, zombie hunters) apparently a woman undertaker and business owner is a bridge too far: “Damn women have no business in undertaking anyhow!” 

I’ll take a look at later installments in the series and see if some of these issues are resolved. 

A great conclusion to the series.

In this book there seemed to be a lot more contempt toward the “normies,” as the magic folk dismissively call their non-magic neighbors. There was a stark contrast between the way a divine-touched person and a devil-touched one were treated by the witches. While there was an element of willful rashness for the person who dabbles in the dark side, the domination of the host by the “good” force was apparently not by choice, which is…food for thought. And a bit disturbing. 

The author is clearly not without sympathy toward those who are tempted (or fated) to be on the side of darkness and chaos. But the scorn and derision they direct toward one person drawn to such power was ugly. 

A lovely graphic novel for middle elementary and up. Busy, exuberant scenes of city life are the backdrop to this gentle story about social expectations and self respect. The people are so lovingly drawn, with a multitude of body & hair shapes, colors, and textures. There were so many delightful details in the full page illustrations, and so much honest emotion in the smaller panels. I want to frame and display multiple pages for the artwork alone. 

If the story wears its message on its sleeve, it’s no less true and relevant. 

Here is the multiverse, and the door to every world is a mirror that reflects the worst parts of the one you originally came from. Cara has to fight her way toward some kind of redemption against the twin backdrops of the safe, manicured city of a privileged, wealthy society that feeds like a tick on the poor, who dwell in a Mad Max-style wasteland. Most of the speaking roles are played by troubled, fit, 20-something badasses. 

I read about two-thirds of the book before switching to skim mode. 

The fictional science and the fictional mythology of the passage of multiverse travelers is fascinating. The focus, though, is very much on the emotional and social implications of a power structure completely and absolutely grounded in systemic classism and racism. The main character carries a monstrous burden of abuse and twisted guilt, and must always struggle against the pull of a toxic relationship that offered cruelty and evil, but also power and safety.

Every time Cara mulled over the differences between THAT Nik Nik and THIS Nik Nik, I was terrified she'd give in to the pull of that connection.

This is an excellent look at the motivations, ideals, and fears of communities affected by censorship in America. A good half of the book consists of loosely linked short stories, each focusing on a different person in the town.  This strategy works well; it gives the reader the sense of jumping in to different stories in a town-wide library. 

The large cast of characters can be confusing. I found some of the stories a bit on the superficial side, with easy resolutions and sudden epiphanies. The darker stories, particularly the ones told from the viewpoint of bitter characters intent on controlling others, were more believable. 

Beautifully plotted. The author begins with two separate strands of story and expertly weaves them together. Characters in one strand often encounter elements of magic or clues to the solution of the mystery that their counterparts in the other half of the story have already resolved. Thus the reader often knows the significance of a cough, hum, buzz, or sliver of silver of which the characters are completely unaware. Delicious tension!

Hilarious, heroic, tragic, and human. Wow. 
As I neared the last few chapters, I was reading at a breakneck pace, desperate to have the ending revealed and very much fearing it at the same time. 

Some good general cooking advice about pantry staples, cookware, and basics. 

This is a queer romance with a very thin veneer of cozy fantasy. The frequent magical analogs to real-world culture and the dialog at times gave the feel of parody. One character is desperately trying to get into a magazine top-30 list of young entrepreneurs; another quips, “Dude, your aura is all over the place.” My heart belongs to a darling little automaton with a weirdly appealing appearance and some BB8 vibes.

The story is slow, sweet, and insubstantial. The pace dragged in places, which made the few D&D adventure set pieces (the tunnels under the city! The midnight sinkhole! The alchemical catastrophe!) a welcome relief.  The low-stakes narrative’s main appeal was the close-knit community and family that support, accept, and encourage one another with love.

Pet peeve:

ridiculously age-inappropriate behavior from a child character. A six year old who drools on her parents’s shoulder while throwing a toddler-speak tantrum? Shudder.