Genre: Magic

Emily Wilde’s Encyclopaedia of Faeries is a curious case of a lot of great ideas implemented in a slow and laborious manner. Incorporating aspects of historical fiction, fantasy, light romance and folklore, the elements were there for what many positive reviewers have describe as a cozy and enchanting read. Unfortunately the narrative and tone was not for me and I alternated between struggling to stay interested in the story and being baffled at seemingly random lurches in unexpected directions. The main highlight for me and the area Heather Fawcett was consistently strong in was the folklore aspect layered into the story. Emily Wilde’s Encyclopaedia of Faeries is full of lengthy and detailed stories told by the villagers of Hrafnsvik, encounters with the Fair folk, and even recapped from Emily’s own research. These stories placed in self-contained chapters are often longer than non-folklore chapters given that the story is presented via Emily’s written journal, some entries being extremely short and uneventful. These stories all have some sort of theme that connects to whatever Emily is experiencing at the time, and the imaginative quality of these tales often surpasses the novel’s actual story itself (like modern Grimm fairy tales). The interest within…

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…

Despite having a lot of wonderful elements on paper, I thought book #1 Midnight Riot/Rivers of London was messy and unable to seamlessly mix its two story arcs, lore and world-building, and an urban noir investigation together coherently. The ambiance, setting, brief history lessons and Peter’s character voice helped cover up a weakly constructed plot and investigation. Thankfully I trusted other reviewers that wrote the series gets better as it progresses which I can see now. Akin to enjoying a glass of fine wine in a jazz bar hindered by an amateur musician (or what I would imagine it would be like, I’m not a drinker personally), I found Moon Over Soho to be a cool and low-key entertaining experience provided I not look too closely at some of the finer details of its plot. Across the board, Moon Over Soho felt like a true sophomore sequel work that was more confident and focused compared to Rivers of London. There’s a bit less action here than the obvious riot plot, but just about everything else is stronger across the board. Similar to Rivers of London, Moon Over Soho features two separate story arcs. The first involved multiple oddly timed deaths…

This might be the earliest I’ve ever read a newly published book as I ninja-ed it the day my library got a digital copy and I was very excited based on the synopsis and listed genres. For me, the Book of Doors was a solid comfort read (note, NOT the actual Comfy read genre) that felt nostalgic in the first half, invoking the wide-eyed magical feel of many YA fantasy books I read growing up yet clearly intended for adult readers. This book is also fully targeted towards book lovers with countless descriptions and settings based on book collections, stores, or libraries (to be expected for a story involving magical books). What I did not expect was the surprisingly ambitious and well-executed time-traveling/manipulating second half that manages to recover and tie-up the narrative successfully after a disjointed mid-section. Despite the obviously heavy fantasy elements provided by the magical books (I assume it’s not mentioned in the synopsis as not to show it’s trump card early), the Book of Doors should first and foremost be considered a soft time-travel drama. A young women in her 20’s living day to day in New York, Cassie is at the pivotal stage in her…