mynameismarines's reviews
1076 reviews

Yeaaaah. (Treat this entire review like a spoiler.)

First, I probably should've realized this wouldn't be my thing because of some reactions I got just by putting this on my TBR shelf. "Are you going to snark it??" someone asked. (No, but damn is it snark-worthy.) "Oh, you're going to hate Barrons and V'Lane." (Yes. Yes I did.) "The series gets better!" (Not as comforting as it's meant to be.)

Thing is, I get the love for the book. No offense to anyone who likes it, but it's kind of trashy. I use that word only because it's what is used to describe addicting-but-probably-not-awesome TV or movies. This is like that. There is an element of easy readability here as well as an interesting backdrop and world that helps you power past the more pernicious aspects.

And to me, those things weren't bad. The Fae are interesting, and the characters have potential. In the hands of KMM, though, that potential is wasted in large part because of crappy writing. In theory, Mac Lane is awesome. She's girly, sassy, unapologetic about who she is, and pretty self aware for the most part. In practice, all of that is buried under a mountain of IN YOUR FACE writing and repetitive prose that made me HATE the fact that Mac loves nail polish, because if I had to hear about it one more flipping time...

Everything about these characterizations is heavy handed. Just painfully so. Mac comes across dumb as rocks because of it a few times, and it cheapens her as a character. And while I understand that it's plausible that she would be hesitant to accept this world and life, I was 50% into the book and she was STILL saying crap like, "even though I'd seen them with my own eyes, touched them, almost died by their hands and all signs point to yes, I STILL didn't believe I was a Sidhe-seer..." Terrible. Shut up, Mac.

Basically, in an effort to make her girly, KMM too often leans on vapid and shallow, as if the two things can't exist apart. I don't care that Mac likes clothes and looking good. Hey! So do I! I care that she walks into a den of magical beings and thinks, "shit! I dressed totally wrong."

Barrons was a walking manly man of masculine tropiness. He was also kind of my favorite thing about the book, though because KMM's descriptions of him are HILARIOUS. SERIOUSLY, A FULL RIOT. I don't even really understand why she insisted on reminding us that Barrons was more man than most men. I don't even know what that means. Maybe he walked around with his penis in his hand all the time. I guess that would be one way to exude manliness.

He's also a terrible person. I think he chokes Mac like 27 times within the first few days of knowing her. That might be a slight exaggeration. But then, we're supposed to be okay with shit like that, and the way he talks to her and basically grounds her and pushes her around because he later saved her life. I'm supposed to forget she can't wear a bra for a while because he hurt her too badly because he called her by the name she prefers to be called by. I'm supposed to forget he grabbed her by her hair and yelled at her because he paints her finger nails. Hahaha. NO.

Combine those two things and you have Barrons being a jerk and Mac saying stupid crap like, "in this light he looks dangerous!" He LOOKS dangerous? HE CHOKED YOU. HE BRUISED YOUR RIBS. WHO ARE YOU?

Barrons is a shell of a character. There is no personality at all, aside from "manly man abuser," with a dash of, "MYSTERY." Pass.

V'Lane was absolutely my least favorite part of the book. I mean, not even that he caused Mac to shed her clothes and whatever other nonsense, but because of the way KMM treats this plot point. Mac tells V'Lane he'd been about to rape her and he says, "you wanted it." AND SHE FUCKING AGREES. YES, I WANTED IT. DEFINITELY. No word about how NO, she was under magical influence and that would definitely be RAPE.

NOPE. NOPE. NOPE. NOPE. NOPE.

NOPE.

The dialogue wasn't particularly good. There were up to three "Ms. Lanes" per page whenever Barrons was in a scene. I get it, he's stuffy and shit, but no one even calls someone they are having a conversation with that many times.

I didn't particularly like the way the story was written, with Mac narrating from the future. It was like watching a movie with someone who'd already seen it, and that person was saying stuff like, "this is where it gets good!" or "crap! This part is awful!" That's annoying then and it's annoying in the book as Mac actually says things like, "this is where everything changed for me. It was a cheap way to build suspense. KMM probably needed that story telling device because her plot plods along. Seriously, if Mac had just gone TO THE SCENE OF THE CRIME AS SOON AS SHE CAME TO DUBLIN TO INVESTIGATE HER SISTER'S DEATH, like 47% of this story would've been unnecessary.

It's kind of impressive that in a world with so much magic and big bads and sex and death, you're kind of thinking, "alright already! On with the story!"

There isn't much story. By the time the end rolls around, and suddenly she's all, "hey look at me! I can fight!" I didn't even care. Fine, Mac. You can insta-ninja. Hooray.

Apparently, though, I'm one of approximately 5 people in the world who didn't love this book, so probably ignore me.

Will I keep reading? Meh. Not now, if ever. And only if I find a way to get the book for free.

This book has a decent amount of hype surrounding it, so I definitely had high expectations. As you can tell from my star rating, those expectations just weren't met.

To be fair, this wasn't a bad book. It was cute, and had the kind of romance that the YA contemporary genre thrives on: super handsome boy, pretty, quirky girl who doesn't know how pretty she is, bad girl best friend, super popular mean girl at school, and even a perfectly acceptable, nice boy present to confuse our main character's feeling. I read it in four hours, one night before bed, and it's the type of the book that is perfectly made for that sort of single sitting reading.

The gimmick of this particular book was supposed to be these letter that go out to all of the boys Lara Jean has ever "loved." Almost immediately, the narrator amends that premise. They aren't really love letters. More like a few lines she writes when she's getting over a guy. And love is a very strong word there too. On top of that, 3 of the letters that get sent out are kind of non-issues. The other two set up the love triangle, but it's a launching point, and not really something that effects the plot enough to break it out of the tropey norm.

My biggest issue with the book was Lara Jean's voice. She was supposed to be a slightly sheltered almost 17-year-old and she read only slightly older than her 9-year-old sister. It was particularly trying in the beginning of the book as we were being straight told facts (she is my sister who is like this. This is my father who does this and is like this. Etc.) It was all a bit graceless and it took a while before I found myself even enjoying the fluff.

And really that's what it comes down to: this was acceptable fluff.

My favorite part of the book was actually the family relationship. My favorite passages came from the sisters, specifically the "big" (again, a couple of pages. Plot points weren't very fleshed out here) fight between Lara Jean and Margot. What the author had to say about sisters hit a soft spot for me.

The book didn't really have an ending. I wouldn't call it a cliffhanger either, because I knew exactly where the author was headed. It just felt like she didn't tell me it. It felt like there were a couple of pages left off the end of the book. I turned the page, thinking there was more, because it even ends mid sentence.


So, all in all, cute, easy read, but not particularly impressive in any regard.

When I finished this book last night, I was a ball of internalized emotions. While reading, I was taking mental notes of some faults of the book, some things I filed away to mention later, but all that mattered in the end was that I felt weird inside, and needed to process it all.

Those are a few strange statements, but that's how it goes when you are a bibliophile firmly part of
Thankfully, for me, that was not the case. I was actually reading it, receiving the first few bits of mystery revealed, thinking, "none of this warrants all the big time secrecy built up around this book." At the same time, I was plowing through the book, just trying to get through the end. I think I'm generally decent at predicting twists and turns, but I didn't even allow myself the time to do that here. I just read.

I was dying to know what the heck was going on by 60% and a ball of absolute nerves around 80%. A friend was reading more or less along with me and at around8 89%, we were just texting each other expletives and caps lock statements.

To me, the best part of the book was the not knowing. The secrets, the unreliable narration, the lies-- that's what propelled the book forward and left me thinking and reevaluating at the end. If you are spoiled on the end, no offense to E. Lockhart who did a great job, the book would lose a chunk of entertainment value.

That is not to say that this written badly. Not by any means. The choppy phrases, the strange descriptions, the mooony language and almost melodramatic atmosphere all fit perfectly with what the story ends up being. That said, I had moments of thinking it could've done without so much purple prose, especially in the beginning when I was trying to find my footing with the story. The beginning also threw out a handful of names, places and relationships so quickly, it was a bit difficult to keep track of. I caught on, however, shortly after I thought to complain about it.

That is also not to say that the characters weren't good. They were. The entire construction of the (beautiful) Sinclair family was intriguing, as was the relationship between the Liars. Because of the construction of the prose, however, it never felt like we got to know Cady. The narration didn't really seem like a voice, if that makes sense. In the end it was more about events and the characters took a back seat to the story. It worked for me overall, but if you are the sort who lives and breathes characters, this might leave you underwhelmed.

I would recommend it. I read it over the course of a few hours, but it will definitely be one of the more memorable things I read this year.

This was my first Meg Abbott book, though she had been on my radar before with some of her previous works.

It's a bit of an obvious statement but: this book is not for everyone. I loved it, though. Sometimes you love a thing blindly, truly unable to see why someone would not like it. Unable to see it's flaws. Not the case here. I get why some people would complain about how the underlying mystery is treated, and I also get why some people wouldn't like Abbott's very inwardly focused, slightly dark and almost lyrical style of prose. It worked for me here, however.

Here's why:

- The Nash family. We have a running joke on Snark Squad about how you know you are getting old when you start relating to the parents in teen shows/books more than the teens. It's a half joke, BECAUSE IT'S TRUE. While I liked both Deenie and Eli, and I related to them in some "been there" kind of way, it's father Tom who gets most of my sympathy. The way he describes holding onto his family, feeling them grow apart...? It was gripping. Each of these characters were traveling through the story almost independently, but always thinking of the unit. Each tied to the other by the past and the bonds of family, to put it tritely. It was well done.

- The hysteria. I feel like some people may complain about the way the sickness develops, how the mystery is navigated and the resolution. I liked it because to me, it never seemed like the fever was actually the thing. Tom kept thinking about how it could be anything, or everything, or nothing at all. There was this sense that we are all always exposed to all of these different things that could do us harm, from the water we swim in or drink or use, to the people we associate with daily. It's a creepy thought. I thought the fever aspect was handled reasonably well, and I love the resolution because while it's heavily hinted at what the answer is, it's not confirmed out-rightly. It was a smart move. If you go into this book, however, expecting more of a mystery or thriller, chances are this story won't deliver.

- Additionally, I love the way the fever played against this backdrop of #teenagedproblems, especially sexuality. It was an odd choice using the HPV vaccine in this story, considering it's a real thing, but it played right into what Abbott was saying about teenaged sexuality, especially in females.

On top of that, we get a look into the politics of being friends, of accepting new friends into the mix, of why we pick the friends we do, etc, etc.

- The writing. I've seen it described as noir in other reviews. It's very introspective, which is the kind of writing I have a soft spot for. It's the kind that speckles the narrative with big observations about life or love or loss, but in (mostly) understated ways. There was only a time or two when there was a line of dialogue I would describe as trying too hard. The one that sticks out the most in my memory comes almost at the end of the story, when Deenie tells her father that staring at the sky hurts her eyes. You'll see it when you get there. It was weird.

That is one of just a couple of downsides. The story does bounce around a bit between points of view and sometimes it is done a little less gracefully than others.

Overall: I really enjoyed it. It was hard to put down and I think it will prove to be the kind of story I remember long after the last page.

I received this book from Netgalley in exchange for an honest review.

This Book Report was originally posed on Snark Squad.

In a nutshell: Two women disappear in Henbane, a generation apart and both connected to Lucy Dane. Her mother, Lila, disappeared when she was just a baby, most presuming that she’d killed herself. Her neighbor and sometimes friend, Cheri, was found cut into pieces, her remains stuffed in a tree. In a split timeline, we both visit the story of Lila’s arrival in Henbane in the past, and Lucy’s prodding into the secrets of her small town in the present.

We Judge Covers: Not too much to look at. I’m not sure this book would grab my attention in a bookstore, but I suppose the murky, foggy feel fits with the overall atmosphere of the story. Also, I really like the title “The Weight of Blood.” It has a dual meaning in the story, referencing both the weight of blood shed, and the weight of being connected by blood. Both things really come into play in the Dane family’s life.

Main Character: The story is mostly co-narrated by Lila and Lucy Dane, though in my head, top billing goes to Lucy. In most of the marketing I’ve seen, this book is compared to Gillian Flynn’s work, and the main difference I can see is that Lily and Lucy are likable. I’ll get a little into character development below, but for now, I will say that I did enjoy what I parts I got to know of both ladies. Lucy, in particular, had a few lovely traits, including being able to hold her own. She was a bit reckless with her own safety, but I feel like it confronted the fact that she’d always felt safe in her small town, perhaps even when she shouldn’t have.

Love Interest: Daniel. He was an okay character (seriously, I’m getting to character development) and he cared for Lucy. He was also just sort of plopped into the story. If you removed him from it, not much would suffer. He existed solely to be Lucy’s love interest and to occasionally driver her around to places.

Negligent Parents? Well, that all depends on a spoiler. I can say that in her short time with Lucy, Lila was depicted as a wonderful mother. And Lila’s dad Carl, though often away from home, really seemed to care about her well-being and safety. In fact, Carl and Lucy’s relationship was the one I was left wanting to know more about. Carl was a supporting character, but one with such a tragic story in the midst of all this, that I felt for him even as he stood in the wings of the story. I’d read a book about Carl, the gravedigger and construction worker.

1430: The small town setting was almost a character all by itself. The author didn’t have an overly descriptive still, but even so, the culture and way of life in the fictional Henbane just burst from between every line. The sense of small town justice was essential to the telling of the story. Lila, at one point, marvels at how everyone knows your secrets in a small town, and in the present, her daughter marvels at how people still manage to keep their secrets. Both things are true.

#MEH: This book was caught in a bit of an awkward middle: it was not meaty enough to be plot driven and it was not deep enough to be character driven. It claimed a middle ground that slowed the story a fair bit. I read the book in one sitting (it took a bit more than 4 hours), and even so I didn’t feel any immediacy. It was a slow peel of layers. If the Ozarks were reluctant to give up its secrets, so was this book.

In the meanwhile, you superficially touched all the characters involved. They each had their own personalities (some like Birdie and Gabby who I really liked) but I didn’t walk away from the book feeling like I knew much about them. It was more of a snapshot of people, and how were they affected either by Lucy or by Lila. We didn’t delve much deeper than that, an observation that really stuck with me after I finished the last page.

The pacing wasn’t something that significantly handicapped the story of me, personally, though I can see people rating this lower than I will because of that fact, especially if they were expecting any sort of thriller.

The End: A dose of contrivance went into the end. Lucy finally puts some key things together, all because her adoptive grandmother tells her some information she’d never found fit to tell her in 17 years, or in the 200+ pages prior to that point in the story. There’s no rhyme or reason to it, either. They are just chatting and suddenly Birdie’s all, “and this is what happened to your mother when she got here.” It was a little off putting.

Because the story develops at such a slow and steady pace, chances are that you will see the big twists and reveals coming. Even though there is a clear villain in the story, even this person has some good (though not at all redeeming) qualities. And even the “good” have questionable morals and that personal sense of justice I mentioned before. But there is a point where you read a development and clearly peg who will end up with blood on their hands.

And the end plays pretty much exactly as I guessed it would.

Away Message Worthy Quote: “I want to do my version of the right thing.”

For Traumateers who: read anything by Gillian Flynn and thought, “MAN. I wish this wasn’t as dark and creepy and I could like a character and that also, it was a whole less like Gillian Flynn!” And for those who don’t mind slow and steady stories, with rich settings and likable characters living in the moral gray.



Final Grade: B

I struggled with this book. To put it simply, it was light on plot and thus repetitive, and featured one of my least favorite things ever: the ill-conceived love triangle.

Juliet is abandoned by her father on the heels of a controversy surrounding his work and research. Soon, her mother dies and she's left to fend for herself in London. That is until a few twists of fate reconnect her to her childhood friend/father's servant, Montgomery. She convinces him to take her to the secluded island where her father now lives and the rest is thin plot history.

The pacing in this book was all over the place. I'll admit that I was both intrigued by the premise and the main character during the first 70 or so pages. Here was a girl who was a victim of circumstances beyond her control, and yet she was smart, strong, hard-working, brave and there was an air of mystery about her. The story took a turn for the boring right about the time Juliet and Montgomery boarded a ship and we read about them just kind of hanging out on a ship. The main character took a turn for the annoying when she got to the island and (1) - thought more about which boy she should choose than her own personal safety which was at great risk and (2) - made decisions that made no actual sense.

There were big ideas and concepts at play in the background of this novel, from mental health to the ethics of science and the author glossed over them clumsily all to focus on a love triangle that was incredibly lopsided. She did a disservice to her own character by making her interested in the second half of the triangle, Edward, when she repeatedly told the reader she had 0 interest in him. But... but... he was *close* to her and he had a penis and he was fond of generally raping her space, and she just a lowly woman, after all. So even moments after she declared things like, "I could never love him," our heroine would think things about her upcoming decision between the two men. Which makes no sense. Because you just told us you didn't like him.

The worst of it, though, was really that Juliet would start thinking about boys at the worst moments possible. Human-beast running after you? WHICH BOY SHOULD I TAAAAKE? Some servant just died at the hands of an unidentified monster? WHICH BOY SHOULD I TAAAAKE? Fire spreading throughout the place where you live? WHICH BOY SHOULD I TAAAAKE? And etc.

The islands had all the makings of an interesting plot, but mostly Juliet runs around and gets lost. And when there is looming danger, she always escapes it but we aren't really sure how. There was one scene where a beast was literally outside her window and she was sewing on her bed. Granted she was nervous and scared but reading, "I heard the beast but concentrated on my needlepoint..." Well, that really just highlights the jist of the overall problems with this story.

Juliet's father was a shell of a character. He was a mustache twirling kind of villain and his "madness" as I mentioned is never truly explored. Returning to my earlier point, some big ideas were completely mishandled throughout the story. Juliet worries for a large portion of the story that she's inherited her father's madness or tainted by his blood. It gets to a point where she fears proximity to her father, or being on the island itself, is turning everyone mad. But, by mad she means people defend themselves?

Spoiler

Edward kills one of the creations and she's all OMFG HE'S A MURDERER, EW, WHAT IS HE? Meanwhile, Montogmery has been helping to make these beasts and she's all, "...but, he's good at his CORE, see?" It's confusing. We don't get Juliet's sense of right or wrong because she thinks with her vagina.

The worst of Juliet's madness is a curiosity over her father's work.

I felt Montgomery was also a poorly developed character and I didn't feel one bit for him. Edward was vague on purpose, thanks to a plot twist, which meant that when he wasn't petting Juliet, he was clenching his jaw a lot, and his eyes flashed lots of tense emotions.

In the end, Juliet came to the island, Juliet ran around the island, Juliet leaves the island. And in one sentence, I saved you 400+ pages. You are welcome.

This book is best described as aggressively mediocre. Getting through the middle potion of the book was something of a chore for me. All of the time travel/alternate timelines stuff was kind of high concept, and the author didn't trust her audience enough to understand it.

After Kate was introduced to her time traveling grandmother, she moves into her house and they spend so. much. time. just talking and exchange information. It's an incredible amount of exposition, stuff that is repeated over and over, and stuff that is not presented in any enticing way.

There is a love triangle, but Kate spends so much time talking to her grandmother, we don't get much of a chance to really get to know either boy.

The last few chapters pick up a bit but at that point I was not interested in the outcome.

Kate is an okay protagonist. I really wouldn't know what to say her favor. She's meant to have something of a personality because she quotes movies like The Princess Bride and eats onion rings, but that's basically all I can say I know about her. She annoyed me a few times in high pressure, save the world situations, as she gave to much thought to insignificant, sometimes boy-related problems. I mean, she'd just discovered her father disappeared and was having thoughts like, "but what would this boy help me? I'm just not preeetty." (She was pretty, FYI.)

I guess there will be a sequel, but nope. I won't read on.

I went back and forth between four and five stars. I'm not sure if I love this quite a five star amount, but this story is written with such care that it is hard not to reward it for quality and effort.

Burial Rites is somber, a bit slow moving, and written somewhat lyrically. If these are things you can't appreciate in a book, than this story probably won't be for you. I believe it is to the author's credit that we start the book knowing exactly how it will end, and yet, she builds plenty of suspense and momentum into the story. In fact, I would love to revisit this story in the future to better enjoy the writing. I sped through sections at points in an effort to finally hear Agnes' full story.

Hannah Kent, in a note at the end of the book, says she wanted to present Agnes' story in a more ambiguous manner. I think she erred on the side of making Agnes sympathetic. It was easy to feel for her and her hard lot in life. She was insightful and she bore her lot pretty damn well. In the end, though, I did find myself questioning Agnes' story and actions. She was not completely innocent.

More than anything, this is a story that will stay with me. I thought about it well into the night and found myself wanting to read more about Agnes and Natan. I love when I story makes me think and inspires me to further action.

This genre is just not my cup of tea.

I picked this book up for free on Amazon because Jenny Trout and I have something in common: we both spent a crazy amount of time picking apart the Fifty Shades series. I have not read her reviews (writing my own was enough time spent with FS, thanks so much) but readers often link dropped her and said generally amazing things. She decided to write something like Fifty Shades without the awful, so I was curious.

First, props to the author for certainly avoiding the misogyny, abuse and GROSS infused into stories of a similar nature. It was certainly sex-positive, so I appreciate her efforts.

It feels a bit weird to only do this review in comparison, however. I mean, compared to Fifty Shades, yes, absolutely, this was a marked improvement in every way, from characters to plot. On its own, there was still some left to be desired (and I say that, again emphasizing that this just isn't my usual genre. I have very little else to compare it to.)

There were times when I could really tell that this book was originally written as a serial. Certain chapter breaks felt very much created for the benefit of a serial, instead of for the benefit of a book. Not sure if that makes sense, but that's the best way that I can explain the strange pacing at points.

Additionally, the plot was flimsy. This was sex and plot and not the other way around. A lot of the conflict could've been avoided with communication, and though Sohie explained her reasons for not using her words, I'm not a fan of using lack of communication as a means to bolster the tension.

There were moments that in an attempt to avoid tropes, the author tried a little too hard. It was all a bit too manufactured.

I'm not sure that I'll pick up the (non-free) sequel. The book ended on a cliffhanger (an almost literal "what will I do?" if I recall correctly) but I find that I never really cared for the characters. I'm not invested in what she will do next, because she was never endeared to me.

In all, though, I believe Mrs. Trout proved her point: there was no reason for certain other books to be so freakin' life ruining.

ETA: I have no complaints whatsover about the actual writing. It was all polished, clean and the MC had a nice voice. Quality wise, this book is three stars or above. The two stars is a personal taste thing.