A Book A Week

After much encouragement from friends, family, and coworkers late last year, I finally gave in to peer pressure. I stepped outside my literary comfort zone to read A Court of Thorns and Roses, the first book in Sarah J. Maas's bestselling series. While I found the fantasy world easy to slip into and appreciated the setup of its central conflict, the romance—intended to be the story’s emotional core—fell flat for me.

"Don't worry," readers assured me. "The second book is so much better!"

Despite my reservations, I borrowed a friend's copy of A Court of Mist and Fury and gave the series another chance.

Feyre has survived the darkest trials of her life, but the scars remain. Her time Under the Mountain—enduring unimaginable horrors to save Tamlin and his people—still haunts her. Though she now walks among the immortal High Fae, the weight of her past lingers, refusing to let her rest.

At least there’s a wedding to look forward to. Tamlin is the love of her life, and Feyre is ready to become his bride and settle into the safety of the Spring Court. But adjusting to this new existence isn't easy—especially when her bargain with Rhysand, the enigmatic and dangerous High Lord of the Night Court, continues to pull her toward a world she doesn’t fully understand.

As Feyre finds herself entangled in a treacherous web of politics, passion, and power, an even greater threat looms on the horizon. She may hold the key to stopping it—but only if she can master her newfound abilities, mend the fractures within herself, and decide the role she’s willing to play in a world on the brink of war.

I love it when a book genuinely surprises me, especially since reading so many each year makes those moments rare. That's why TJ Klune's The House in the Cerulean Sea was such a delightful discovery when I picked it up earlier this year. Although I don't usually gravitate toward fantasy and was wary of the hype surrounding Klune's 2020 novel, it proved to be one of the most heartwarming and life-affirming books I've ever read. The quirky tale of a home for magical children touched me in unexpected ways, leaving me eager for more. With Klune returning for a sequel, he's hoping to recapture that magic and surprise readers all over again.

How far would you go to protect your family? Arthur Parnassus understands the importance of a nurturing environment. As an orphan himself, he witnessed the lasting impact of neglect and abuse on a child's life. This drove him to dedicate his life to caring for orphaned magical children on his island, providing them with a home full of learning, acceptance, and, most importantly, love. Alongside his partner Linus, Arthur is determined to shield his kids from harm. But given their unique abilities, that protection is anything but simple. That's why Arthur has agreed to testify before a government committee, hoping to prove just how ordinary his life and their home truly are.

Arthur and Linus walk into the hearing, fully aware that Arthur's past might be challenging to relive but hopeful that it will help prove that he and his family are nothing to fear. However, as the questioning begins, it becomes clear that the government's agenda is far from sincere. Instead of a fair inquiry, the hearing is designed to provoke Arthur, incite a reaction, and demonstrate that magical beings are dangerous. The confrontation escalates, ending in chaos, with the authorities calling for a new investigation into the island and the children who live there, framing them as threats to society. This isn't new for Arthur. He's faced the same hateful rhetoric his whole life. But he also knows how powerful hate can be. Now, determined to protect his family, he prepares to lead a fight for the future that both his loved ones and all magical beings deserve.

If The House in the Cerulean Sea was about finding your tribe—the people and place where you can be your true self, whether you're a gay man, a garden gnome, or even the antichrist—then Somewhere Beyond the Sea deepens that theme. It delves into the fragile nature of that sense of belonging, particularly for those outside societal norms, and highlights the challenges marginalized groups face in safeguarding their place in the world. TJ Klune dedicates this novel to the trans community and, in his author's note, identifies himself as the "anti-JK Rowling." He crafts a story that not only celebrates those considered "other" but also reminds us that, despite our differences, we have more in common than we realize.

In recent years, we've seen rising hostility toward the LGBTQ+ community, with harmful legislation and rhetoric gaining traction. Yet, as Klune's novel reminds us, the antidote to hate is something simple and powerful: love. Through his quiet, profound storytelling, Klune shows that humor, empathy, and love are universal languages that resonate with most people. Somewhere Beyond the Sea continues his mission to give voice to underrepresented communities, all without being preachy or alienating. It's a story I found myself completely immersed in, allowing the characters and message to wash over me in an authentic and understated way. Klune's work is a testament to love and acceptance, and it's heartening to see him continue to spread that message in a world that desperately needs it. I hope he keeps sharing stories like this for years to come.

For more information, visit the author's website, Amazon, and Goodreads. 

(2024, 69)

Téa Obreht has been a fixture in the literary landscape for as long as I can remember. I recall when I first began blogging about books, her debut novel, The Tiger's Wife, was on everyone's reading list. Like many instances since, I eagerly purchased the book, caught up in the excitement, only to let it languish unread on my shelf. There it remained, untouched, a silent reminder of my tendency to be swayed by the latest literary trends. While perusing the new arrivals at my local library, I recently stumbled upon Obreht's latest offering, The Morningside. Once again, I was drawn to the allure of a shiny new title, conveniently overlooking the neglected books waiting for me at home. This time, I made a conscious decision to follow through. Over the course of several days, I immersed myself in the pages of The Morningside, finally experiencing Obreht's writing firsthand. 

In The Morningside, the eponymous building stands as a symbol of faded grandeur, a once opulent high-rise now fallen into disrepair. Set in the not-too-distant future, the story unfolds in a world ravaged by the effects of climate change, where a Manhattan-like city has succumbed to flooding and a dwindling population. In response to these challenges, the government has devised a repopulation program, recruiting refugees with promises of a secure future within the city's confines. Despite these assurances, the anticipated influx of residents and laborers has yet to materialize, leaving the National Bureau of Posterity to advocate for patience and perseverance in the face of uncertainty. The echoes of past glory still linger, fueling hope for a resurgence of prosperity on the horizon.

In this building, we encounter Silvia, an eleven-year-old newcomer who resides with her mother. Encouraged by her mother to assimilate into their new surroundings, Silvia is instructed to converse only in the local language, concealing their past from prying eyes. While Silvia yearns for excitement and adventure, her mother's aspirations are more modest. She seeks only a life of quiet solitude for themselves and her fellow expatriates.

Silvia's longing for something beyond the ordinary is kindled by the enchanting tales spun by her aunt Ena, the superintendent of The Morningside. Ena regales Silvia with fantastical stories, including one about a mysterious artist residing on the building's 33rd floor, accompanied by three unusually large dogs. “Isn’t it obvious? They’re not dogs,” Ena says. “They’re men during the day and dogs at night.” Through these captivating tales, Silvia is transported to a realm of boundless imagination that starkly contrasts her mother's more pragmatic aspirations for her future. As she'll soon discover, the fancies of imagination can have dire consequences in the real world.

There's a wealth of themes to delve into within The Morningside, and Téa Obreht makes a valiant effort to integrate these elements into a cohesive narrative. Through the innocent perspective of Silvia, the child protagonist, readers are transported to a world where perception clashes with reality. The novel confronts the undeniable impacts of climate change, immigration, and warfare, yet the inhabitants of this fictional world remain fixated on the past rather than addressing the present challenges. Silvia's inquisitive nature serves as a driving force, leading her to explore the lives of her fellow residents within The Morningside. As she unravels their stories, the novel touches upon many complex themes.

Despite its ambition to tackle nuanced topics, the novel struggles to maintain a clear narrative focus as it progresses. Instead, it meanders from one exploration to another, leaving little time for readers to deeply engage with the underlying subjects. When the novel finally confronts the harsh realities beneath its fantastical facade toward the end of the book, it is delivered as a shocking twist. Instead of allowing readers the space to ponder the weighty implications of the significant revelation, Obreht appears to employ it primarily for its shock value, diminishing the opportunity for genuine emotional resonance. Ultimately, The Morningside presents readers with many themes to unpack, but its erratic pacing and lack of narrative direction detract from its potential impact, rendering it more of a mystery than a satisfying revelation.

For more information, visit the author's website, Amazon, and Goodreads. 

(2024, 35)

In a recent review, I noted that my husband has recently reignited his passion for reading. Following our joint reading of Michael Crichton's Timeline earlier this month, we embarked on a journey through C.S. Lewis's iconic Narnia series. Although I've traditionally been the only reviewer for A Book A Week, I thought it'd be enjoyable to have Johnathan share his own thoughts and post a review. Enjoy!

In 2014, I earned a B.A. in History. This could go without saying, but I have read my fair share of books. So much so that for the better part of the last decade, the idea of reading anything seemed like a massive chore rather than something I would want to do for pleasure. While my husband has written for this blog for well over 10 years now, I have always thought, "How fun it would be to add my own contribution to this space?" I only needed the right inspiration. With a recent re-watch of Disney's The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, I found myself surprised at how much I loved the story and decided it was time to read the original novel by C.S. Lewis.

The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe follows four siblings through a fantastical journey that takes them from the WWII-era United Kingdom to a land of magic and danger hidden in the back of an old wardrobe. The grave stakes that consumed much of the human world at this time were all too familiar in this land called Narnia, where an evil witch had been cruelly inflicting her will for a century. The four siblings are empathetic to the plight of the Narnians, but they do not have the knowledge or experience to fight against such a powerful foe. That is, until the arrival of Aslan, an all-knowing, omnipotent "king" of kings of Narnia . . . who also happens to be a lion. Aslan's appearance is his first since the witch took control of Narnia, and he is a beacon of hope for all who oppose her. As events unfold and consequences created by sibling rivalries emerge, the conflict comes to a head and sets the stage for a clash of beastly proportions: lion vs. witch. Good vs. evil.

Like many fellow millennials, my introduction to this story began with the movie version. In reading the novel, I was surprised to see how faithful the movie was to the original plot. Some scenes are even word-for-word reenactments. Some pieces of the plot were more fleshed out in the movie, and in hindsight, this adds to the story rather than takes away--specifically, the final battle. The novel is as charming and fun as I hoped, as any good child's story should be. One of my favorite aspects of the novel is that C.S. Lewis leaves much to the reader's imagination to interpret the mechanism of plot elements, like how the wardrobe leads to Narnia. It's never revealed how it works. The reader just knows that it does. I often have trouble following the complex logic of world-building that occurs in other fantasy novels. This simplistic approach of C.S. Lewis is refreshing and, to be cliche, magical. All said and done, The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe is a delightful read, and I encourage anyone who thinks they might be interested to give the novel a chance. 

For more information, visit the author's website. 

Can you recall the last book that completely caught you off guard? TJ Klune's The House in the Cerulean Sea has graced countless best-of lists, with many avid readers passionately declaring it one of their all-time favorites. Nevertheless, having experienced disappointment with hyped books before and considering that the novel didn't fall within my usual preferred genre, Klune's work seemed destined to be one of those titles universally loved but not necessarily deserving of my personal exploration. A couple of years had passed since the release of The House in the Cerulean Sea, and the initial fervor had quieted. The book had slipped off my radar until I noticed it on a friend's recent list of year-end favorites. Intrigued by its enduring acclaim, I finally decided to give the book a read. Surprise, surprise—it surpassed my expectations in ways I hadn't imagined.

Linus Baker lives a life steeped in monotony. His dwelling is a typical abode in an average neighborhood, accompanied by a cunning little cat who grudgingly shares his life. Linus diligently commutes to work daily, strictly adhering to rules and regulations. At 40 years old and carrying some extra weight, he may not strike you as someone destined for anything extraordinary. Linus's seemingly mundane job, however, is far from ordinary. Serving as a caseworker for the Department in Charge Of Magical Youth, he oversees the well-being of peculiar children in government-sanctioned orphanages. Unfazed by personality or circumstance, Linus is the epitome of objectivity, unwaveringly devoted to following the rules and content in doing so.

Linus experiences a profound shock when an entirely unexpected event unfolds. Summoned to the office of Extremely Upper Management, he is overcome with worry and fear, questioning why, as an exemplary employee, he would find himself in such a situation. To his surprise, he discovers that he is not facing disciplinary action but is assigned a highly classified case instead. His new task involves investigating Marsyas Island Orphanage, a facility housing children with diverse magical abilities. Rumors circulate that one of these children is none other than the offspring of Satan. Linus must confront his fears and employ his experience and objectivity to determine whether the child is, indeed, the Antichrist.

As I started The House in the Cerulean Sea, I was uncertain about its essence. Klune delivers his fantasy with a straightforwardness that might initially be a bit disconcerting. Rather than meticulously detailing his world's rules, the magic within simply exists, gradually unveiling itself as we progress through the narrative. As someone who seldom delves into the genre, I discovered that this approach resonated more with me than those books that dedicate extensive pages to constructing their worlds. Klune trusts his readers to comprehend the realm he has conjured, and I found myself effortlessly immersed in it.

The protagonist, Linus, embodies the epitome of ordinariness, serving as our conduit to absorb the extraordinary elements of the story. The children in the orphanage may initially appear as various magical beings. As we delve deeper, though, we begin to perceive them for what they truly are—innocent youngsters simply trying to navigate the complexities of life. As Linus acquaints himself with each child and their enigmatic caretaker, a man fiercely protective of his charges, we witness the transformation and understanding that blossoms within him. The narrative evolves into a poignant allegory delving into the essence of love and the worthiness of being loved for simply being oneself. It struck a deep chord with me, and I now see why it has enchanted readers the way it has. Ultimately, The House in the Cerulean Sea unfolds as a love story, a testament reminding us that even those labeled "other" are entitled to the same rights as everyone else.

For more information, visit the author's website, Amazon, and Goodreads. 

(2024, 8)

Justin Cronin has been on my radar since his novel The Passage captured audiences' attention in 2010. At that time, I was just getting back into reading, and I hadn't even started my blog yet. As is often the case, I put the book and the subsequent trilogy on my TBR list, but never got around to actually reading it. I vowed to read whatever new work Cronin came up with next. Enter his latest novel The Ferryman. Cronin's publisher sent me a copy of his new standalone book, and I finally had an excuse to read his writing. 

For the survivors, the small archipelago of Propera has become a place of refuge. As the world surrounding this place crumbles, Prospera has become a utopia of promise. Those lucky few who call the place home live their days of comfort and satisfaction, a life in sharp contrast to the people living in the outside world. The only caveat to this utopia is that it can't last forever. Each citizen is equipped with a monitoring device in their arms. As their physical and psychological well-being drops, they voluntarily retire to a place called The Nursery. Retirees board a ferry that takes them to be mentally and physically renewed. 

Proctor Bennet has the important job of being a ferryman. He's responsible for guiding citizens through the retirement process, beckoning them to the boat that will take them to The Nursery. Usually, this is an almost celebratory moment as the elder citizens welcome this next chapter in their lives. Sometimes, though, Proctor has to more forcefully enforce the tradition. Strange things have been happening with Proctor. It is supposed to be impossible to dream on Prospera, yet he dreams vividly. Even more strange, his monitor is beginning to show he is rapidly declining, approaching the very state that sees him guide people to the ferry. His personal and professional lives come to a head when Proctor is tasked with helping his own father retire. At the last moment of the ritual, Proctor's father becomes agitated, needing to be restrained and forced to the ferry. In these brief moments, he relays a cryptic message to his son. This message will set into motion a series of events that will leave Proctor questioning everything he's ever known. 

The Ferryman sees Justin Cronin conjure a world filled with moral ambiguities that will have readers contemplating the truths of everything they are presented with. I was instantly drawn into the world that Cronin created. His main character Proctor serves as a kind of in-between for the reader, allowing us to see the beautiful utopia of the world while questioning the motivations of those who have created it. The first third of the book had me completely enthralled. Cronin alternated between the POV of his main character with that of someone tied to the outside world, giving the reader an into each side of this fantasy. Toward the middle of the book, I became a bit lost in the weeds. The driving plot began to meander, and I wasn't sure what was happening. Things come together for a satisfying and twisty conclusion, but the book is probably a hundred pages too long. 

For more information visit the author's website, Amazon, and Goodreads. 

(2023, 28)

I vividly remember the first time my mom took me to see The Nutcracker. We dressed in our Sunday best and made our way to downtown San Antonio. I remember walking the streets of the city, weaving amidst the riverwalk as we made our way into the elegant theater. Once the show began, I was transported by Tchaikovsky's music, mesmerized by the sheer fantasy unfolding upon the stage. That year, I opened the gift of my very own nutcracker, a single emblem that would begin a collection that grew throughout my childhood. My brother and I would play with the toy soldiers, reenacting the story as it was told in the ballet. Years later I would find myself in the serendipitous position as a music teacher for the Houston Ballet Academy, a role that gave me the opportunity to work with students who performed in the very work that had enchanted me as a child. It is safe to say that the endearing story of The Nutcracker has been an ever-present part of my holiday traditions. 

In Hiddensee: A Tale of the Once and Future Nutcracker, author Gregory Maguire attempts to capture the origins of the endearing classic. There's probably no author better suited in tackling such a monumental story. Maguire has delved into the worlds of Alice in Wonderland, Snow White, Cinderella, and most famously The Wizard of Oz. If you've heard of the hit musical Wicked, then you are at least tangentially aware of his work. This novel imagines the origins of the mysterious Drosselmeier, the eye-patched godfather of Klara, the girl transported to the land of the sugar plum fairies. As we first encounter the famed toymaker, he is but an orphaned boy, living in the woods with an elderly couple. He learns the art of storytelling from the old woman who tells fanciful tales of fantastic worlds. The old man is more practical, teaching the boy the value of hard work and living off of the land. A tragedy at the start of this tale sets into motion a coming-of-age journey twinged with ever-growing magic, one that sees the boy grow into the famed man of the classic Christmas narrative. 

For a novel based in the same world as the spectacular Nutcracker, Hiddensee is a surprisingly subdued affair. Sure, there are glimmers of the same magic and wonder that permeate the classic story, but Maguire's take on the tale is much more firmly planted in reality. Much of the drama and action that takes up the pages of the book is built around a young man growing up without the benefit of someone guiding him through adolescence. His coming to terms with religion, art, and love would be perfectly fine if they were combined with the dazzling mystical elements of the original story. Absent these moments, the story reads as much more ordinary than it should. This combined with Maguire's penchant for classically formal language makes the short novel drag on endlessly. By the time the timeline of this origin story intersects with the tale we've come to know, it is simply too little too late. Simply put, Hiddensee is a valiant effort at an origin story that never truly lives up to the magic of the story it attempts to precede. 

For more information visit the author's website, Amazon, and Goodreads. 

(2021, 52)

For as many new releases as I read each year, I always make a point to read a few classics as well. Dune Frank Herbert's science fiction masterpiece has been one of those "I'll get to it one of these days" books on my shelf for well over a decade. If I'm being honest, I think I was just intimidated by it. The book is lengthy and not really in a genre that I normally gravitate toward. I've started the novel several times, become overwhelmed by the sheer scope and amount of characters, and quickly moved on to something more my speed. Determined to see this challenge though, I'm happy to report that I've finally managed to tackle Dune. 

The novel centers around the boy Paul Atreides. In terms of pedigree, the child comes from a background that almost predetermined his destiny. He is a chosen one of sorts, and the novel opens with him facing a test of his worthiness, a challenge to prove his status. This opening scene sets the tone for the journey to come and foreshadows the larger obstacles that young Paul will soon face as those less worthy than him attempt to cheat and betray their way to his place. Along the way, Paul too will question his place of privilege within the vast world. 

Paul's place in this world stems from the power of his parents. His father leads a group on a desert planet that is rich in spice, a mystical almost drug-like resource that brings wealth and influence to those who control it. Naturally, everyone else is eager to take control of this valuable resource. They see Paul as a potential vulnerability to the rule of the family and will stop at nothing to take advantage of this perceived weakness. 

When reviewing a book like this one, I think it is important to first view it within the context of the time it was published in. Dune was first released in 1965, and Herbert's novel was clearly influential to the science fiction genre as a whole. It is clear to see this influence in the popular novels and films that followed this work. The sheer scope of the world, characters, and politics is quite remarkable. That being said, I just didn't enjoy reading it. In fact, I found many of the same elements that many praise the novel for to be the main detriments. While the world of Dune is sprawling, the novel spends so much time building this world that not much actually happens. I kept waiting for a turning point, but this story never really arrived anywhere. To be fair, this is only the first book in a series. After hours spent reading this one hoping for something more, I have little motivation to pick up another. 

For more information, visit the author's website, Amazon, and Goodreads. 

(2021, 11)

"I have ignited a fire---a spark of a flame!"

I'm not normally a fan of fantasy. With the exception of a few popular series, the genre has just never really captured my attention. When my friend and debut author Travis R.J. offered me a copy of his debut fantasy novel to review, I was hesitant to accept it. It isn't the genre I would normally pick up, and I was nervous that I wouldn't enjoy the writing. As I opened the book, however, my hesitance soon began to fade. Magic by Fire: Spark of a Flame drew me in through a powerful opening that quickly introduced the main characters and hinted at the adventure to come. I was ready to go wherever this story was going to take me. 

By all accounts, Liam is an ordinary boy. He lives with his mother in a small village, and the pair manage the local bakery. Each day looks much like the others, and Liam is perfectly content with this routine. After work, he often sneaks out of the town to the forested landscape that surrounds it. Liam and his best friend Pat spend the evenings playing with an enchanted ball and cautiously exploring their abilities with 'ignegic', fire-based magic. Being a Pyrend, someone who can perform this magic, is extremely rare. Moreso, practicing ignegic has been outlawed by the queen. Already it seems that Liam isn't as ordinary as we originally believed. 

In Magic by Fire: Spark of a Flame Travis R.J. deftly lays the foundation of his planned trilogy upon the characters who inhabit it. The care with which he crafts each person and relationship directly translates into us connecting with them. The bond between mother and son, mentor and mentee, and best friends are each fully realized. The emotional connection with the characters served to heighten the action and drama that they encountered. More importantly, this careful character work grounds the fantasy in a sense of reality. 

Whether you are someone who regularly reads the genre or are more like myself, there is something for a variety of readers to find in Spark of a Flame. The story sets up a classic hero's journey, placing the ordinary main character into extraordinary circumstances. An old prophecy sets most of the narrative action into motion, and it is up to the main character to determine if they will play into that prediction or go against it. In most fantasy I've read, it is the world-building that usually plods along and loses my interest. Travis R.J. circumvents this challenge by revealing most of the world through his characters and the events that unfold. There is a brief section at the midpoint of the novel that started to lag a bit for me, but it quickly gave way to more revelations and a suspenseful encounter in a faraway town. Ultimately, Magic by Fire: Spark of a Flame was exactly the kind of novel I needed to read to ignite my own interest in the genre. It promises to burn into a fully formed blaze over the course of the nest two installments. 

For more information visit the author's website, Amazon, and Goodreads. 

(2021, 8)

"Life is not what you think it is. Remember that. Remember me."

With the arrival of November comes cooler air, shorter days, and the need to curl up with a good book. I was given a copy of Alice Hoffman's Magic Lessons from her publisher and was eager to read this prequel to her hit Practical Magic. While I had never read a novel by the author before, this combination of historical fiction and fantasy seemed like the perfect read to tie into the change of seasons. As an added bonus, I hoped that it would also help my mind escape from the tumultuous election season. While it turns out it wasn't exactly the kind of novel I was expecting, there is still a lot to like about the book. 

The novel traces the history of the Owens women, famed masters of the "unnamed art". Maria Owens, just a small infant, is left abandoned in a rural field in England. Fortunately for her, Hannah Owens, a single woman who lives on the outskirts of town, takes the child in as her own. From a young age, Maria is extremely adept at learning Hannah's magic. The child sees how women from the town flock to Hannah's cottage for her remedies of everything from common medical ailments to matters of love. She also learns that there are some things you shouldn't mess with. Hannah warns her about matters of the heart. For every blessing bestowed, a curse must also follow. 

As Maria grows into a young woman, tragedy strikes and forces her to flee to the new world. Even on her journey across the sea to America, Maria puts her skills into practice. She heals a young sailor from his illness and seems to fall under his spell in the process. Still, she is extremely wary of the trappings of love and refuses to fall into such traps herself. Her journey in the new land sees her break free from indentured servitude and follow her heart to a new town. Little does she know the trouble that awaits her in Salem, Massachusets. 

I have quite a mixed reaction to Alice Hoffman's Magic Lessons. I absolutely slogged through the first half of the novel, not feeling much connection to the characters are the events that unfolded. I think this is partly because Hoffman merely told us about what was happening instead of actually showing it. The beginning has a lot of history and rules to establish. I never felt like the discovery of this history was organic. It wasn't until the protagonist Maria arrived in America and made her way to Salem, that the pace quickened and my investment in the story finally took hold. 

Placing a woman who practices witchcraft directly into the setting of the horrendous trials against women brought some much-needed drama and suspense to the work.  Commentary about feminism and family peppered into the story in a way that only heightened by connection in the latter half of the book. And so I'm on the fence about recommending this novel. I nearly stopped reading it in the beginning, but I couldn't put it down toward the end. I won't be rushing to read a Hoffman novel any time soon, but I also wouldn't' be against reading one down the road. 

For more information visit the author's website, Amazon, and Goodreads. 

(2020, 46)

I recently got to spend the better part of two weeks on vacation in London. Visiting the historic places in the city and the surrounding area really inspired me to pick up some new books and to revisit others. One set of books that have had a huge impact on the city is the Harry Potter series by J.K. Rowling. The first book launched a worldwide phenomenon that inspired a seven book series, ten films, a two-part theatrical production, theme park attractions, and countless other media and products. I first read Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone as a kid almost twenty years ago. Like so many other readers of my generation, Harry Potter became a defining part of my childhood. As I visited locations like Platform 9 3/4 at King's Cross and toured the studio sets where the films were made, I decided it might be time to give Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone a reread.

Summarizing the novel would be an unnecessary exercise at this point. Even if you've never read the books, odds are you've seen the films or at least have a basic understanding of the central plot. Rather than rehash the story, I think it is more pertinent to share some reflections on this read, especially on my perspective of it now as an adult. For starters, Sorcerer's Stone is undeniably a children's novel. As a young reader, I guess I never realized how much the novel was geared toward my reading. From pace to word choice, Rowling has clearly targeted readers who share the age range of her characters. I think that this is most apparent in the pacing. Reading the novel now, I realized how much plot was burned through each chapter, especially toward the book's climax. This really makes me appreciate the way in which Rowling grew her story and writing to coincide with the growth of both her characters and readers.

Despite being aimed at younger readers, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone still has a lot to offer adult readers. I was pleased to pick up on references that foreshadowed events to come in later books that I would never have noticed on my initial reads. It really shows how intricately plotted the series was from the very start. Rowling builds her wizarding world with rich detail that provides it with a sense of reality and history that many budding fantasy writers never fully achieve. Reading as an adult this time also gave me a better appreciation for the motivation of the adults in the novel. Specifically, I found myself relating more to the situation Dumbledore was placed in and even empathizing a bit with the Dursleys. Don't worry, I still hate them as much as I ever did. I just understand where they are coming from a bit more.

After all this time Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone is as enchanting as ever. As a series opener, it establishes vast mythology and inhabits the world with instantly relatable characters, each as complex as the world they live in. Rowling deftly sets the stage for the larger story to unfold while also providing a satisfying conclusion to the novel. I feel very fortunate to have experienced these novels as they were published. I quite literally grew up reading these books. No doubt, a large part of my enthusiasm for the books seeps in nostalgia, but my reread has convinced me that anyone who reads them can find something to enjoy. If you've never read the series, I encourage you to pick the book up and give it a go. If you grew up reading the books like I did, go ahead and dust off your copy of the first novel. I promise you the adventures of the boy who lived are as good as you remember them.

For more information, visit the author's website, Amazon, and Goodreads.
(2019, 17)

"How very like a dream this all is."

Gregory Maguire, author of the bestselling novel Wicked, is back with his latest novel, a re-imagining of Lewis Carroll's classic Alice in Wonderland. Whether you've read Carroll's novel or seen any of the numerous film adaptations of the work, you are probably familiar with Alice's adventures in the strange Wonderland. But what about Alice's family? How did they cope with her mysterious disappearance? And what kind of impact did Alice's presence in Wonderland have on all of those curious characters that she came across? As he's done in most of his other novels, Gregory Maguire uses After Alice to fill in the gaps and answer some of these questions.

Young Ada is around the same age as her neighbor Alice. She wears an unwieldy contraption that is intended to correct her posture, but the device only accentuates her awkward personality and deters many potential playmates. Alice, however, has never seemed to mind Ada. Whether Alice truly enjoys Ada's company or is simply too preoccupied with her own fantasies to notice the other girl's presence, she is the closest thing to a friend that Ada has.

One day, Ada is asked to take some homemade marmalade to Alice's house. As she wanders into her friend's yard, she sees a peculiar sight. A small white rabbit adorned in a waistcoat and clutching a pocket watch stands before her. As the animal runs off, Ada follows. She suddenly falls through a rabbit hole and is thrust into a crazy world populated by odd characters. As the novel progresses, Ada travels a few steps behind Alice's famed journey and aims to reconnect with her friend and find her way back home.

Parallel to this is the story of Alice's older sister Lydia. Lydia is supposed to be keeping watch of her sister, when the girl descends into Wonderland. She isn't worried at first. Alice is notorious for exploring their grounds. But when Ada too is noticed to be missing, Lydia begins to worry about the two girls. She hesitates to interrupt her father who is meeting with Charles Darwin. When Ada's housemaid comes looking for the girl, Lydia enlists her help.

This is my first novel by Gregory Maguire. After the high praises of Wicked and his other works, I was eager to get my hands on this one. Maguire's writing style takes a bit of time to get used to. He writes in a way that seems to hearken back to the Victorian era that this story occurs in. The entire novel is approached with a high-brow air of superiority that initially caught me off guard. While this could certainly be an attempt to mimic Lewis Carroll's prose, it ends up coming off more as an unnecessarily pretentious device that does little to enhance the story.

The story itself is equally confounding. The parts that focus on Lydia offer many promising insights about a young woman's role and expectations in Victorian Era England. By introducing Charles Darwin as a guest to the family's residence, Maguire also explores issues of science, evolution, and race. This narrative could easily have been fleshed out into a fascinating novel on its own. However, by placing this thread alongside the surprisingly less vibrant Wonderland narrative, Maguire ultimately does not have enough book to adequately devote attention to either plot. In the end, After Alice is a novel that is full of interesting elements that never reach a cohesively satisfying whole.

For more information, visit the author's website, Amazon, and GoodReads.

(2015, 33)

Over the course of his career, author Neil Gaiman has delighted readers with his storytelling abilities. His almost childlike sensibilities have allowed him to reach audiences through various mediums, spanning from comic books to more traditional children and adult literature. With his latest adult novel, The Ocean at the End of the Lane, he explores a dark story with enough whimsy and emotion to attract readers of all tastes.

The novel begins with a forty something year old man returning to the small English town where he grew up. His old home has long been demolished, but he is drawn instead to a dilapidated farmhouse at the end of the lane. When he arrives there, he begins to reflect on his childhood and the dark events that occurred at the place.

He was only seven years old when it began. A quiet boy, more at home with his nose in a book than playing with other children, he was an outcast within his own family. We learn that the family is struggling with money. They decide to move him from his own room to bunk with his sister, leaving an empty bed to rent out. With the arrival of the renter, a mysterious opal miner, dark events begin to occur.

The boy meets the three generations of Hempstock women who run the farm at the end of the lane. Lettie Hempstock, who claims to have been eleven years old for a very long time, immediately entrances the boy with her enchanting way with words and conviction that the pond that rests at the very end of the lane is actually an ocean. She agrees to allow him to tag along as she takes a trip to an odd place that lies somewhere between this world and the next. Upon their return from the strange place, an evil is released. Following the untimely death of the mysterious opal miner, this evil takes the form of a menacing nanny, who takes up residence at the boy's home. With the help of the Hempstock women, the boy must vanquish the evil while learning the true meaning of sacrifice.

Neil Gaiman is known for his delightfully dark, whimsical fairytales. This novel is no exception. At its heart, this is a coming of age story that beautifully depicts the fun, confusion, magic, and sacrifice of growing up. Gaiman makes these sometimes difficult realities more accessible through his imaginative characters, situations, and pacing. The novel is completely engrossing, begging to be read in a single sitting. With an ending that is both poignant and satisfying, readers of all ages should definitely follow Gaiman to the end of the lane.

For more information, visit the author's website, Amazon, and GoodReads.

(2013: week 29, book 29)

I was a bit skeptical as I began reading The Hunger Games, earlier this year. The hype of The Hunger Games had reached a high, and I couldn't help but see what all the fuss was about. I quickly read the first novel and was pleasantly surprised. Upon completion, I decided that the novel was an entertaining way to comment on social and cultural topics. I did feel that there was room for improvement, but was invested enough to continue with the sequel, Catching Fire.

The novel finds Katniss adjusting to life as a victor of The Hunger Games. For those unfamiliar with the games, it is an annual event in which each of the twelve districts of Panem, a distopian version of the US, send a boy and a girl to fight to the death in commemoration of the historic revolution. The people of Katniss's home district 12 are used to working hard to barely stay afloat. As the victor of the games, however, Katniss has a new home and more money that she is accustom to. Despite this, she longs for her life before the games.

Her victory was unconventional, to say the least. For the first time in the history of the games, Katniss was not the sole victor. After a strange turn of events that saw her acting like she fell in love with Peeta, the boy competing from district 12, the pair both were named victors and given all of the perks that come with the title. But with this unconventional victory came many unforeseen consequences. While Katniss only acted like she loved Peeta, for the sake of the games, Peeta truly fell in love with Katniss. Still, Katniss's heart belongs to her best friend and hunting partner, Gale. On a larger level, Katniss's victory was perceived as an act of defiance against the Capitol, and threatens to spark a whole new revolution. Now Katniss must try to mend her personal life while convincing the president and citizens of Panem that she never intended to cause problems.

This novel was quite an improvement over the first novel. With all of the backstory and history fully established, Collins was able to devote more time to discovering the emotional layers of each character, even those that initially seemed to be only supporting roles. There is a political thriller permeating the young adult/fantasy exterior of this novel, that allows for quick pacing and darker undertones. Without giving away the story, there were several strong twists that I genuinely didn't see coming. Towards the end, the novel teetered on the edge of predictability, but managed to provide a satisfying ending that promises for an exciting conclusion to the trilogy.

For more information, visit the author's website, Amazon, and GoodReads.

(2013: week 22, book 22)

Author Joe hill has been on my radar for quite some time. Years ago, I read his fantastic collection of short stories and have been following him ever since. His works usually combine his erie sensibilities with fan-boy pop culture throughout. With the release of his latest novel, NOS4A2, Hill has crafted his largest and most ambitious novel to date.

The story mainly follows the character Victoria McQueen. We first meet young Vic as small child. One day, as her parents argue over a lost bracelet, she discovers her secret power. While riding her bike, she rides over the Shorter Way bridge. She comes out on the other side, in the parking lot of the fast-food joint where she ate with her father, hours before. A bit shocked, she enters the restaurant and finds that her mother's lost bracelet was left there. Quickly she returns, traveling again across the bridge, and gives her parents the bracelet.

Over the next few years, Vic's family life goes downhill. After years of witnessing her father's abuse against her mother, Vic continues to use her bike as a kind of escape. Even after the old Shorter Way bridge is torn down, Vic can still ride her bike across it and end up exactly where she needs to be. Fearing that others won't understand this strange gift, she keeps it secret.

One day, Vic has a huge argument with her mother. Her father has since left the family for a younger woman, and Vic lashes out at her mother for searching her room and invading her privacy. Furious, she  rides off on her bike, over the Shorter Way bridge, and away from her troubles. But this time, she ends up in the clutches of the evil Charlie Manx. Like Vic, he too can conjure alternate worlds by driving in his antique Rolls Royce. Unlike Vic, however, he uses his power to abduct small children and take them to his created world, Christmasland.

Through determination and luck, Vic is able to escape from his morbid "Sleigh House" and, with the help of some local citizens, put Manx into custody. While in prison, Manx enters a deep coma and remains there for many years, all but forgotten.

Fast forward many years, and Vic has a child of her own. Through therapy and various treatments, she has come to terms with her past, and has mostly written off the strange details as childhood fantasy. But all of that changes when Charlie Manx passes away in prison. Of course that in itself is not such a surprise, but the fact that his body then goes missing, after the autopsy, causes a police and media firestorm. But after her experience with Manx, Vic knows what really happened. Manx escaped from the prison and is coming to her for revenge!

At nearly 700 pages, this novel goes into great depth with each character, but never feels long. In fact, this story had me staying up into all hours of the night, just to finish a section. Hill creates flawed characters that you can't help but relate to and root for. The surreal elements of the story are made believable by his detailed descriptions and character reactions. He draws on many elements of pop culture, even devoting part of his mythology to an element from the Harry Potter novels. The juxtaposition of the normal feelings associated with Christmas and the horrific actions that take place at the warped "Christmasland" effectively horrifies and delights at the same time. NOS4A2 is Joe Hill at the top of his game, and I certainly recommend it to anyone looking for a great read.

For more information, visit the author's website, Amazon, and GoodReads.

(2013: week 21, book 19)

Author Neil Gaiman has earned both critical and commercial success with his original stories and ability to adapt to various mediums. His 1998 novel Stardust is perhaps his most famous work. With the story released as a serialized comic, graphic novel, novel, and film adaptation, Gaiman's Stardust has obviously connected with audiences around the world. After years of seeing the novel in book stores and hearing positive comments about Gaiman, I decided to finally read the story for myself. The beautiful gift edition of the novel, that I had the pleasure of reading, instantly sets the tone for the "grown up fairy tale" that you are about the read. It is a bound, hardcover version that is made to look as if it is very old and well loved.

The story itself immediately begins with a timeless feel. The novel begins in the city of Wall. Literally, the city lies within the confines of a large wall. Only one opening exists in this structure, and it is diligently guarded by the local men of the town. Insiders are let out of the city every nine years when a traveling market sets up in the meadow outside of the city. Outsiders rarely enter Wall, and so the people of Wall live a peaceful, but sheltered life.

 We learn of young Tristan who is, like most young men his age, madly in love with a girl who wants nothing to do with him. As he walks the young Victoria home from the store at which he works, he begins to plead for her love, offering anything he can think of in return. As this kind of pathetic attempt continues, the two notice a star shooting across the sky. In a final plea of desperation, oddly similar to the scene in the film It's a Wonderful Life where George offers Mary the moon, Tristan offers Victoria the Star in exchange for her heart.

So begins the magical story of Tristan's journey to recover the fallen star. Of course, he is not the only one who is searching for the star. As he exits the safety of wall and embarks upon this fantastic voyage, he comes into contact with evil witches who long for their lost youth, embattled princes who fight for the rights to their father's throne, and a strange merchant lady who may hold the answers to Tristans mysterious past.

Gaiman expertly captures the timeless feel that all good fantasy stories have. His characters are all unique and Tristan in particular is one who you can't help but root for. Rather than try to forge a story with all original content, Gaiman embraces the history of the genre and simply puts his own style into it. From beginning to end, this story held my interest, and kept me genuinely invested. If I had to make any complaint, it would be that the ending could have been fleshed out a bit more. Other than that, this is a masterful display of storytelling that is everything it sets out to be.

For more information, visit the author's website, Amazon, and GoodReads.

(2013: week 15, book 12)

In Wolfhound Century, author Peter Higgins imagines a fantastic, totalitarian state, inhabited by grim characters. In other words, Higgins has crafted his vision of 1940's Russia. The story mainly follows investigator Vissarion Lom, as he attempts to capture a terrorist. Intrigue is instantly put on display as Lom is ordered to report directly to the head of the Secret Police. Despite the image of power and order that the state projects, Lom discovers the state to be full of power struggles and battles between the state police and radical revolutionaries.

Adding to all of this is a muddied attempt by the author to impart elements of fantasy and Russian folklore to this otherwise straight-forward crime thriller. When I first read of the crime leader dealing with a possession of the mind reminiscent of something out of an exorcism film, I immediately felt disconnected from the story. While I believe that Higgins does a commendable job at building his vision of Russia, there comes a point when too many details become cumbersome and distract from the story.

I'm convinced that within the many names of places, people, and muddied descriptions of Russian myth, there is a good story. Despite never really getting into a strong flow, I couldn't help but continue reading to the next chapter (short chapters probably helped with this issue). The story itself is fairly convincing, and all of the plot lines come to a satisfying point. Unfortunately, the narrative just stops, which I'm assuming means a sequel to this novel is in the works. For my tastes, however, I just can't get over the style of Higgin's writing to justify reading a future installment.

For more information, visit the author's website, Amazon, and GoodReads.

(2013: week 13, book 10)

Throughout his career, author Christopher Moore has garnered critical and commercial success for his novels. His inherent wit and ability to create rich characters within fantastic stories has captured the attention of many readers. Although I had never read anything by Moore, I was intrigued by the premise of his latest effort, Sacre Bleu, in which he set out to write a novel about the color blue.

The year is 1890, and the news of infamous painter Vincent van Gogh's death has quickly spread throughout Paris. Lucien Lessard, a baker turned painter, can hardly believe the news. He has been part of the French art scene for years, and has experienced, first-hand, the brilliance and madness of the late artist. No stranger to depression himself, Lucien feels sadness for the loss of a great artist, and recalls the sadness he felt when his beloved Juliette left to London without any further contact with him.

As Lucien discusses Vincent's death with his friend, painter Henri Fantin Latour, he surprised to see a familiar face. Juliette, the woman who inspired him to paint only to break his heart, has returned from London. Despite his shock and bitterness, the relationship quickly picks up where it left off. Soon Juliette is posing as Lucien paints what is sure to be his masterpiece. For this painting, he acquires a special blue, Sare Bleu, or the color of the Virgin Mary, from the mysterious Colorman. When Lucien uses the paint, time seems to stand still and he is riddled with a strange loss of memory. Henri begins to worry about his friend and recalls his own experience with similar time and memory altering instances. All of which occurred while painting his own lover and using the mysterious Sacre Bleu. As the novel progresses, Lucien and Henri discover the prominence of blue paint and peculiar behaviors in the lives of many famous artists. It quickly becomes apparent that The Colorman and his paint have malicious intentions and could even have been responsible for the death of some of art's most prominent figures. Now Lucien and Henri must try to stop The Colorman before they too become the victims of this vicious Sacre Bleu.

I was pleasantly surprised at how much I enjoyed this novel. Moore obviously researched this novel, but took lots of liberty with the facts to turn what could have been a stuffy art lesson into a highly entertaining story. There is a lot going on in this story, but every aspect is presented in a way that eventually brings clarity to the events. The story does take a bit of time to get off the ground, probably because I was trying to figure out what the point of the book really was, but the action kicks into high gear after about a hundred pages. Overall, this novel will probably divide readers, but anyone looking for a definitely "out of the box" story should give this one a try.

For more information, visit the author's website, Amazon, and GoodReads.

(week 52, book 47)