mjenae's reviews
249 reviews

My apologies to my Sanderson fans; guilt has kept me from dnf-ing this book for so long. I want to read the story badly—I am very interested in it—but when you're surrounded by 300> page books and you have the attention span of an—oh, squirrel! ... um, what was I saying? Oh, right, book, long, many pages. Isn't working so well. I am planning on picking this up again sometime in the future, but it may have to be an audiobook version.

I would have enjoyed this story more out of metaphor, but perhaps it would not have been as effective. The writer described everything very well, and although it didn't make me physically sick, it definitely had the potential to.
In general, I dislike stories without hope or redemption, so that was a turn-off for me.
I didn't like any of the characters.
I was intermittently bored and angry almost the entire time.
And I realize that most of these things were probably intended. It's not a bad story, and I can see how people could enjoy it. It has a valid point.
But I'm sorry, I'd rather read something that affirms rather than takes a wrecking ball to my faith in humanity.

What I wrote halfway through:

"I love the writer's style and the narrative techniques she uses. At first, I was upset that the narrator was a man, but I think I understand why the author chose that. She needed a neutral note-taker—someone from the outskirts, who wasn't involved.
"It makes me feel the way I thought it would—akin, like I am in it with them. I can feel their blocked anguish, the hurricane beneath their still waters."

What I think now, at the end:

Every time someone swore I cringed, and mostly because I don't think that aspect was realistic. I kept on having to remind myself that I was unattached, that this was only a representation of Molotschna, not of the religion as a whole. Of course it was very different in their situation. They had a bishop; it was more of a cult than a church group. In that sense, I can believe it was at least very close to an accurate picture.
But otherwise—it was a phenomenal story. I did like August. Even if I wasn't interested in the narrator in the beginning, I definitely was by the end. I am glad the author included his story, even if it wasn't necessarily so important to the overall plot.
It felt raw and open, but in a gentler way, if that makes sense. It wasn't too much, but it was enough to make it effective and worth it. I'm glad I read it.

If I could give this book more stars, I would.
Reading a book the second time gives you room to realize things you didn't before. Like entering a familiar setting—you have the basics, but there's always something new to discover.
This book did the same thing to me it did last time: tied me in with the characters, tore me apart, and then stitched me back together. (There's an ache in my chest now, as if I left some of my heart with Maddie and the others.) But it gave me extra, too. I understood things I hadn't before, deeper themes and underlying emotions. I realized that the reason I love this book so much is because Maddie is me; if I were to write myself as a child, I would look just like her. I didn't annotate, but so many times my fingers itched for a pencil because the paragraph I'd just read was a feeling I'd always experienced but never described.
Maddie said, in the story, that whenever she walked through a new door, she was always looking for someone who felt like home. That's what I look for when I pick up a new book—a home, a comfortable place that makes room for me and my mixed-up self. Where I'd Like to Be is exactly that, and I hope to return to it many more times.

The prose could use some work in a couple places, and that distracted me in the beginning. But once the excitement started, I was swept away. Grabenstein is a plot-maniac; never realistic, but always full of spellbinding action and wonderfully distinct characters. I loved reading about Mr. Lemoncello's origins, especially his mentor. Now I know where he got his fantisimo insanity from.

Brilliant book. I lost access to the website I was listening to it on, but I will be finishing it as soon as I get a physical copy.

This experience was a lot better than I expected it to be. Not in the sense that I believed it to be badly written—I just did not think it was going to be the best book for me. But it was wonderful, and I am glad I took the recommendation.
I would list my favorite moments, but the more I think of it, the more I realize that all of it was my favorite, and you cannot take one moment outside of another, cannot love one scene without enjoying those surrounding it. The story was so well-rounded, from the magical fairy-tale childhood to the lesson of the geese and the slow, gentle landing. (I am nearly crying just thinking of it.) Over and over, my mind was provoked to theology and philosophy and psychology. Over and over, I smiled and laughed and held my breath. Over and over I was drawn, and over and over nearly lost in emotion. It is, overall, a story of might and peace and the fight against ferocity—it is, at its heart, the hopeful and tender tale of the bravest king legend ever lifted.

"Track your fears with the light of Scripture and you are directed to God. Your fears are more about God than you realize. Along the way that light also helps you see yourself more clearly. What you see is that the world is organized into two kingdoms, and the boundary between those two kingdoms, as Alexander Solzhenitsyn observed, cuts right through each of our hearts. Our preference is to straddle that line, but our patient God keeps persuading us to be wholeheartedly devoted to His Kingdom. There is no other way to distance ourselves from fear and anxiety."

This book approached fear in a way I'd never thought of before—allegiances. Every fear leads back to where your trust is.
My feelings never got much involved (which may have been a good thing), but the whole book was full of steady truth. It helped me realize how firm of a foundation I stand on, and it convinced me that it's okay to release the need for understanding and control. The One Who's really in control has my good in mind, and He has promised to give me peace.

I received an ARC of this book. I got a new phone. I lost the ARC. Am I annoyed that I did not get to finish the story? Quite. Well. So it goes.

The Good Things:
1. The formatting. I love original formatting.
2. It was realistic—the texting styles, the spats, the obsessions over things above their age level. Ridiculous, yes, and frustrating, but realistic.
3. Cecily (Cece). She was smart and kind and not nearly as exclusive as the other girls. Forgiving and generally happy-go-lucky. And I'm pretty sure she's an Enneagram 9, what with all the peacemaking and acting as a go-between she does.

The Meh Things:
1. It was realistic. These characters are annoyingly oblivious. Blatantly rude and unfriendly for no reason. Sometimes I did not understand them—but that's another real-to-life aspect. The logic of sixth graders is understandably different than my own.
2. The plot was weak and small. It makes sense because the whole story had to be told in texts and emails and notes (which is a limiting format—plus, one scene takes up a bit of space), but it's still facts. I read the story because it was easy to eat up, but I don't know that I liked it. It offered me nearly nothing substantial to walk away with.