livinliterary's reviews
1618 reviews

Volume 30 of Komi Can't Communicate delivers some adorable moments, but overall, it feels more like filler than anything truly substantial. While there are still heartwarming interactions, much of this volume lacks the meaningful development that pushes the story forward.

The charm of Komi and her growing group of friends is still there, and there are certainly cute, wholesome scenes, but they don't add much to the overarching narrative. Many of the chapters felt like they were filling space rather than contributing to Komi's goal of making 100 friends or addressing the deeper themes of communication struggles.

I'm invested in Komi and her friends, but this volume may not leave a lasting impression. Here's hoping future volumes pick up the pace as we near the story's conclusion. 

 Imagine being able to relive multiple lifetimes, each time learning something new and honing different skills. That’s exactly what 7th Time Loop delivers, and it makes for an incredibly engaging read. Rishe, the protagonist, has died six times and now finds herself in her seventh life with a fresh perspective on how to live more freely. Her passion for life and her thirst for knowledge is absolutely infectious, making her a character you can’t help but root for.

This volume sets up an exciting blend of genres: a marriage of convenience, political intrigue, and a dash of enemies-to-lovers romance. The chemistry between Rishe and her worst enemy-turned-husband is electric, and I’m eager to see how their relationship develops. The political stakes add depth to the plot, keeping the story from being just another typical romance.

If you’re into complex heroines, clever storytelling, and the intrigue of navigating high society with a sprinkle of slow-burn romance, this manga is a must-read. The story is promising, and I can’t wait to dive into the next volume. 

Trigger Warnings: Graphic violence, body horror, sexual assault, transphobia, homophobia, conversion therapy, mutilation, child abuse, identity erasure, mind control, and extreme psychological manipulation.

Gretchen Felker-Martin's Cuckoo is a deeply unsettling and visceral horror that pushes boundaries and forces readers into the uncomfortable, cringey, and raw emotions it invokes. It's not for the faint of heart—99% of the time, this book will make you feel trapped in a world of relentless unease, anger, and pain. The story explores themes of identity, control, and survival in a hostile environment where safety is a lie and existence itself becomes a nightmare.

The plot kicks off strong, launching into chaos right from the start as Felix, Gabriel, Joanna, John, Malcolm, Nadine, and Shelby—a diverse group of queer teenagers—are sent to Camp Resolution, a desert conversion camp run by a religious organization. While they expect the usual horrors associated with such places, the camp hides far worse secrets. There's something in the desert, a malevolent force that consumes not just their bodies but also their identities, stripping them of everything that makes them who they are. Graduates of the camp return home changed, but not in the way you'd expect—there's something else entirely inhabiting their shells.

Felker-Martin doesn't hold back. The novel is brutal, and the horror isn't just physical; it's existential. The characters are subject to the worst kinds of abuse, both external and internal. Felker-Martin masterfully weaves body horror with psychological terror, creating a fever dream that clings to you long after you finish reading.

One of the strengths of *Cuckoo* is its cast of characters. The representation is fantastic, offering a diverse queer group with multiple points of view, and the audiobook format with full-cast narration works particularly well in setting each voice apart. However, I did find some confusion due to the trans characters being referred to by both their deadnames and chosen names. While this was likely intentional to highlight their struggles with identity and the erasure they face at the camp, it added a layer of disorientation in an already chaotic narrative.

That said, the pacing of the story felt uneven. The beginning starts off slowly, almost like a simmer before the inevitable explosion, which creates a steady sense of dread. But as the plot unfolds, particularly toward the end, it feels like everything speeds up too much. The lead-up to the final events, while intense, could have benefited from more time to breathe. The climax arrives quickly, and I found myself wishing the tension had been drawn out a little longer to really drive home the horrifying culmination.

Despite the pacing issues, Cuckoo is an amazing story that grips you with its grotesque intensity. It feels like you're constantly holding your breath, anticipating the next twist or shock. The imagery is twisted and nightmarish, leaving you feeling unsettled for the entire journey.

If you're looking for a book that will challenge your limits, leave you gasping, and force you to confront the darkest parts of the human psyche, Cuckoo is that book. It's not an easy read, and it certainly won’t be for everyone, but it’s a visceral, terrifying experience that lingers long after the final page.

A Sign of Affection, Vol 2 continues to charm readers with its delightful blend of romance and representation. The cuteness factor remains high as we follow Yuki and Itsuomi's evolving relationship, and I’m thoroughly enjoying the journey.

One of the standout aspects of this series is how fluidly sign language is incorporated into the narrative. The seamless integration allows readers to follow along and appreciate the unique communication style of the characters, enriching the storytelling experience. The art style is simply enchanting, with beautifully illustrated panels that capture a wide range of emotions.

However, I have some reservations about the depiction of Yuki's feelings. The instant-love she experiences feels slightly rushed; it’s hard to reconcile her deep interest in Itsuomi given how little she truly knows about him. This rushed development makes me wary of his intentions, leaving me questioning the authenticity of their friendship. 

Despite these concerns, I am invested in the story and eager to see how their relationship unfolds. The narrative's charm and the intriguing dynamics keep me turning the pages.

 “If you're so pissed off it feels like the next man who mistakes you for a good time is going to find out you're actually his worst nightmare - this book is for you.” This dedication captures the essence of the story and hints at the dark humor woven throughout the pages.

Here Lies a Vengeful Bitch, is an intriguing exploration of friendship, vengeance, and the complexities of small-town life.  While the narrative has strong moments, it does leave some gaps that detract from the overall experience. 

The mystery of who murdered Annie adds an exciting layer to the story. I thought I had figured it out, only to have my expectations upended in a fantastic twist that Crowley executed brilliantly. This unexpected turn of events kept me guessing and elevated the overall experience.

Here Lies a Vengeful Bitch is a compelling read that I thoroughly enjoyed. I am left with a myriad of unanswered questions and an eagerness for a sequel to delve deeper into this fascinating world. With a few tweaks to the plot and character dynamics, it could have been even more remarkable, but the heart of the story, particularly Annie and Maura's friendship, makes it a standout. 

As this is Crowley’s debut, I’m optimistic about her potential as an author. There’s a foundation here that shows great promise, and I look forward to seeing how her writing evolves in future works.

 After a lengthy four-month journey, I finally completed Hell Rising: Outlanders, Book 14, and I must admit, it was a bit of a slog. I started this installment back in May and just wrapped it up in September, which is a notable pause for me (but it’s not the longest I’ve taken on a book).

The narrative offers an ambitious exploration of its themes. This made the plot somewhat overwhelming. While I appreciate a well-crafted world, the sheer amount of detail often felt like it was being shoved down my throat, which likely contributed to my slow reading pace.

Despite its flaws, Hell Rising still managed to deliver moments of intrigue and tension that are characteristic of the Outlanders series. The characters remain engaging, and their development continues to be a highlight. I just wish the pacing had been a bit more balanced, allowing for a smoother flow of information without sacrificing the story's momentum.

While this installment didn’t quite reach the heights of previous books for me, it still offered enough compelling elements to keep me invested. If you're a fan of the series, it’s worth a read, but be prepared for a hefty dose of exposition along the way. 

 From Far Away introduces us to an ordinary girl, Noriko, who is suddenly transported to a strange and dangerous world. This new realm is both beautiful and eerie, filled with unfamiliar creatures and customs. As Noriko grapples with the bizarre reality around her, she soon discovers that she may not be as ordinary as she once thought.

The story is engaging, with a unique premise that blends fantasy with elements of mystery and adventure. Hikawa does a great job of creating a vividly strange world that immediately draws you in, making you curious about what’s going to happen next. The sense of wonder, mixed with the danger that surrounds Noriko, adds depth to the plot.

While I enjoyed the setup, I’m currently waiting on my library to acquire the next volumes to see how the story unfolds. The first volume left me intrigued enough to continue, but it feels like it’s just scratching the surface of what this series can offer. I’m looking forward to seeing how Noriko’s journey develops and what more this beautiful, strange world has in store for her. 

 You Shouldn't Have Come Here started with promise but ultimately fell short for me. The twist near the end was unexpected, but I think it could have been executed better. The budding romance, the small-town secrets, and the lingering question of what was in the basement kept me listening, but the plot as a whole didn’t quite deliver.

The story unfolds through the alternating perspectives of Grace and Calvin, broken down by the days Grace stays at Calvin’s AirBnB. The first few days dragged on and felt slow, and the characters didn’t do much to pull me in. I didn’t care for either Grace or Calvin, which made it hard to invest in their story. 
Despite the slow start, the action did pick up toward the end, and I enjoyed the final twist. I appreciated that Grace wasn't a victim but was planning Calvin’s demise all along.

While the writing was solid, the plot seemed to go nowhere for me. I kept waiting for something more—some deeper payoff that never came. Still, I was intrigued enough to finish the book, though I can’t say it left a lasting impression. It's one of those stories that had potential but just didn't quite reach it. 

 The twelfth installment of Spy x Family kicks off by wrapping up the tension from the previous "bus arc," giving us a chance to explore some key character development. This first chapter does a great job of addressing the fallout, and the fleshing out of certain characters adds more depth to their arcs, making the resolution satisfying.

One notable aspect of this volume is the progress in Yor and Loid's relationship. While it's great to see more interactions between them, some of the reasons for Yor's anger toward Loid feel a bit forced. That said, given that Yor is drunk during these moments, it adds a layer of humor to the situation, so it’s not overly distracting.

The main action highlight of this volume is the "Mole Arc," which delivers some excellent high-stakes tension and solid action sequences. However, readers should be prepared for a gut-punch ending—this volume closes on a brutal cliffhanger, leaving you desperate for the next chapter. It's a thrilling ride with a harsh stop, but it only adds to the excitement of what's to come.

Overall, Spy x Family, Volume 12 balances action, humor, and character development well, though the cliffhanger is a bit cruel! 

 This was my first experience reading Josh Malerman, and wow—his horror writing style is highly effective. Incidents Around the House reads a lot like a movie script, which I love, and it's told from the perspective of a child. Malerman's brilliance lies in his ability to give just enough information to leave your mind racing, constantly asking, "What on earth is going on?" The tension builds as you’re left wondering what's lurking just beyond the edge of clarity.

One thing that stood out to me was how the dialogue and format take a bit of adjustment. Being in a child’s mind makes it hard to fully grasp the situation at times, but I think that’s intentional. It adds to the eeriness, evoking childhood nightmares, where things never quite make sense but feel terrifying all the same. The uncertainty and confusion only make the horror feel more real.

The visuals in this book were incredibly vivid, pulling me deeper into the unsettling atmosphere. And just when you think things might calm down, Malerman twists the story again, leaving you unsettled once more. If there’s one thing I’m still curious about, it’s the "monster" itself—I wish I knew more about its background. That lingering mystery, however, only adds to the unease.

Overall, Incidents Around the House is a disturbing and disorienting ride that’s sure to unnerve you, especially if you enjoy horror that plays with your mind. It certainly left me wanting more.