Jefferz

Described as an urban fantasy (or rather urban supernatural?) novel with a polyamorous setup between the main characters, I spent the entire first half of the novel baffled at what I was reading and what the book was trying to accomplish. Despite an intriguing synopsis detailing a plot with a demon contract, the occult, and a secret society, all of these seemingly interesting plot elements felt sidelined for character relationships and drama. I had to ask a friend who also read this to see if this would be considered romantasy or rather, romance-supernatural since it kept making bizarre relationship-focused choices that sacrificed time that could’ve been spent on the main plot. That’s fine if a book commits and does a deep dive into that, after all the romance crossover genres are thriving. However, despite spending almost all of its time on its poly relationships, Evocation unfortunately fails to make that focus interesting to read or care about. I will be the first to admit that I am not well-read in the dynamics or structure of polyamorous relationships (watching a few Anthony Padilla interview videos on the matter probably isn’t enough to count). However, my problems and disinterest with the content…

The House in the Cerulean Sea has a plot, genre and tone that ordinarily isn’t quite my taste, but T.J. Klune’s execution and lowkey sarcastic humor kept me going. Hopefully optimistic, sweet, and a very comfortable easy read, this is not my typical read but it’s still a novel I don’t regret picking up. The plot is predictable and some extended metaphors and social commentary are a bit on the nose (this has a tone and approach better suited for YA, apart from a few rare adult-natured jokes), but it’s unapologetically warm and has so much mass-appeal. Other reviews describing The House in the Cerulean Sea as a modern fairy tale are quite appropriate. The style of narration told from the perspective of the main character Linus Baker evokes that nostalgic fairy tale feel that’s felt through Klune’s descriptive visuals and dialogue (the house for example screams fantasy fairy tale aesthetic, including the gorgeous interpretation on the cover). While reading this, I could instantly see this being adapted as either an animated or live-action miniseries. Linus Baker is a refreshing, atypical main character aged 40, overweight, uptight, queer, no frills government worker who serves as the perfect foil to the…

The Last Murder at the End of the World feels like it should’ve been something directly catered to my taste which is a murder mystery investigation wrapped up in a post-apocalyptic, science fiction (borderline dystopian) dressing. This one is hard to talk without giving away crucial spoilers that would heavily affect the reading experience. The novel had all the right elements and pieces to work with and Stuart Turton had a lot of creative and intriguing concepts included. In an alternate universe with some tweaking, this could’ve been a knockout hit. Unfortunately for me, the novel’s science fiction flavor gets a bit out of hand and is frankly a mess. Numerous unexplained apocalyptic elements weaken what should’ve been a well-done murder investigation story. Set on a protected island where the last survivors of an apocalyptic fog inhabit, the setup for the plot was good. There’s a clear timeline of events dictated by a countdown to extinction that separates each section of the book. The first 40% of the story focused on introducing various villagers on the island, their relationship with three revered scientists, and the dynamics of the island. The book has a long-running metaphor of equating the villagers to…

My history with Emily Henry’s books has been a bit all over the place so I was hesitantly optimistic picking up Funny Story. For context, my scale varies from loving Beach Read, frustrated and almost insulted by Happy Place, and finding Book Lovers competently solid in-between. Fortunately for me, Funny Story ended up on Beach Read’s side of the spectrum, even covering a few of Happy Place’s themes executed with more finesse (the fake dating trope + adult friendships). In many ways Funny Place feels like Henry’s most polished and cohesive novel yet that’s an easy read with mass appeal. I really enjoyed the story, although the title may be a bit deceiving as this novel definitely isn’t Henry’s funniest and is a much slower yet rewarding read compared to her past books (minus People We Meet On Vacation, the only one I haven’t read yet). Henry’s books are always well-written works laced with clever modern humor, but my enjoyment of her novels tend to hinge heavily on each book’s protagonist and the central themes introduced; separate from the romance and core couple which I would imagine is often the draw for many of her other readers. Besides the obvious…

I wrote in my review of Morning Star that Pierce Brown had a monumental task then to conclude the staggering uprising premise introduced in his original trilogy in a decisive and satisfying manner. Perhaps an even bigger challenge is to build on the original trilogy’s work and segue the series into its next arc; rebuilding and running a society after it was torn down. As such, Iron Gold had dual purposes to transition the series to a new direction as well as recapture the page-turning intensity that made the first three novels impossible to put down. I consider Iron Gold a resounding success at the former by somehow expanding the solar system society further and using many clever strategies to jumpstart new plot threads. When it comes to the latter however, I found Iron Gold to be competently solid but a bit touch and go with its pacing and reader interest. I was initially hesitant when I started reading Iron Gold, expecting an extended lull and flood of information dumping to bridge the ten years that pass between Morning Star and Iron Gold. I also expected Darrow to experience a shift in priorities or mindset, similar to the beginning of…