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natlbugz's reviews
370 reviews
The Let Them Theory: A Life-Changing Tool That Millions of People Can't Stop Talking About by Mel Robbins
informative
inspiring
reflective
medium-paced
5.0
TLDR: The Let Them Theory is equal parts liberating and grounding. It’s a must-read for anyone who feels stuck, overwhelmed, or like they’re constantly giving their power away. This book reminded me to pause, breathe, and focus on living life on my terms. If you’re ready to take control of your narrative, this book is for you.
This book. Wow. Mel Robbins has truly outdone herself, giving us a guide to navigating life, love, and all the messy, complicated parts of being human. As someone in the process of healing, dating, and finding myself again, The Let Them Theory landed in my lap at exactly the right time.
The heart of this book lies in two deceptively simple words: Let Them. At first, it feels like a mantra for detachment, but it’s so much more than that—it’s about reclaiming your power, setting boundaries, and focusing on what you can control instead of spiraling over the things you can’t.
Mel’s writing feels like sitting down with a trusted friend who gently reminds you to stop carrying the weight of everyone else’s emotions. One of my favorite quotes perfectly captures this idea:
“You can’t control how other adults behave, and stressing about it diminishes your power. You’ll never reach the full potential of your life if you continue to allow stupid things or rude people to drain your life force.”
Robbins also beautifully balances this with the concept of Let Me. It’s not just about letting go of what doesn’t serve you but stepping into your own power and values. She writes,
“Let Me live my life in a way that makes me proud. Let Me make decisions that align with my values. Let Me take risks because I want to.”
This isn’t just a mindset shift; it’s a life shift.
There’s a deep emotional resonance in how Robbins tackles relationships, self-worth, and even the small frustrations we let rule our days. She calls out how our stress response takes over and encourages us to pause, take a breath, and ask ourselves: Is this worth my energy?
“When you let the world around you impact your emotional state and peace of mind, you become a prisoner to these external forces.”
But my favorite takeaway? The reminder that comparison is the ultimate thief of joy. Robbins says,
“No one else’s wins are your losses. That’s why you have to change the way you look at other people’s success.”
It’s such a powerful perspective shift and a reminder to channel energy into building a life we’re proud of instead of getting stuck in the what-ifs of someone else’s story.
Confessions by Catherine Airey
TLDR: Confessions is an ambitious and beautifully written debut. If you love family sagas with flawed, complex characters and a strong sense of place, this one will stay with you long after you turn the final page. Catherine Airey is definitely an author to watch—I’m already looking forward to her next book.
emotional
mysterious
sad
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
3.75
“She herself is a haunted house.” -WHAT A LINE!!
Catherine Airey’s Confessions is the kind of book that quietly sneaks up on you, layer by layer, until you’re completely caught in its web. Set between the hauntingly beautiful landscapes of rural Ireland and the chaotic vibrance of New York City, this multigenerational family saga is as atmospheric as it is deeply human.
The story begins with Cora Brady, a New Yorker whose life is upended after the loss of her father in 2001. When an unexpected letter from her estranged aunt Róisín invites her to Ireland, the story takes a sweeping turn into the past. From there, Airey masterfully weaves the lives of Cora, Róisín, and her sister Máire, exploring the secrets they’ve carried and the ripple effects of those choices. One of my favorite aspects of the novel was how Airey captured the nuanced relationship between sisters, blending loyalty, jealousy, and unconditional love into something heartbreakingly real.
Catherine Airey’s Confessions is the kind of book that quietly sneaks up on you, layer by layer, until you’re completely caught in its web. Set between the hauntingly beautiful landscapes of rural Ireland and the chaotic vibrance of New York City, this multigenerational family saga is as atmospheric as it is deeply human.
The story begins with Cora Brady, a New Yorker whose life is upended after the loss of her father in 2001. When an unexpected letter from her estranged aunt Róisín invites her to Ireland, the story takes a sweeping turn into the past. From there, Airey masterfully weaves the lives of Cora, Róisín, and her sister Máire, exploring the secrets they’ve carried and the ripple effects of those choices. One of my favorite aspects of the novel was how Airey captured the nuanced relationship between sisters, blending loyalty, jealousy, and unconditional love into something heartbreakingly real.
“I suppose that’s what dying does. You don’t have long left to tell your stories, so secrets don’t hold the power they once did.”
This idea pulses through every page of the book, as long-hidden truths about the enigmatic artist collective “The Screamers” begin to surface. Róisín’s journey as a fiercely independent yet guilt-ridden figure contrasts with Máire’s chaotic, artistic brilliance, and the way their past intertwines with Cora’s and Lyra’s futures kept me hooked.
Speaking of Lyra, Cora’s daughter, her chapters set in modern-day Ireland were another highlight for me. Airey didn’t shy away from incorporating Ireland’s social and political changes, and Lyra’s self-discovery felt so raw and real. There’s something about Airey’s prose that makes even the quietest moments hit hard.
Speaking of Lyra, Cora’s daughter, her chapters set in modern-day Ireland were another highlight for me. Airey didn’t shy away from incorporating Ireland’s social and political changes, and Lyra’s self-discovery felt so raw and real. There’s something about Airey’s prose that makes even the quietest moments hit hard.
"But they were just women, being anything they wanted to be. Being free. All of them different ages, from all sorts of places. You came to know their stories – the homes they had grown up in, the husbands they had left, the hurt they still carried. Most of them told you that they hadn’t ever fitted in before. That, until they’d found the Screamers, it had felt like they were playing an elaborate game, trying to follow its rules. Now, they didn’t have to do that. They could express themselves, be the people they were supposed to be."
The heart of this story lies in its exploration of generational trauma and forgiveness, and that quote perfectly encapsulates what I loved about the characters. They’re all flawed, often deeply so, but their struggles are painfully relatable.
As much as I enjoyed the writing, I have to admit that the sheer number of characters and timelines occasionally made the plot feel overwhelming. Certain moments were so intricately detailed—like the descriptions of Ireland’s countryside or the symbolism of the forgotten video games—that they sometimes slowed the pacing. But then again, Airey’s writing is so lush and evocative that I didn’t mind taking my time with it.
As much as I enjoyed the writing, I have to admit that the sheer number of characters and timelines occasionally made the plot feel overwhelming. Certain moments were so intricately detailed—like the descriptions of Ireland’s countryside or the symbolism of the forgotten video games—that they sometimes slowed the pacing. But then again, Airey’s writing is so lush and evocative that I didn’t mind taking my time with it.
“It doesn’t matter how many people you know, or where you go. You’re left with yourself.”
TLDR: Confessions is an ambitious and beautifully written debut. If you love family sagas with flawed, complex characters and a strong sense of place, this one will stay with you long after you turn the final page. Catherine Airey is definitely an author to watch—I’m already looking forward to her next book.
The Maid's Secret by Nita Prose
adventurous
lighthearted
mysterious
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? No
4.0
TLDR: If you love a mystery with heart, meaningful life lessons, and the incomparable Molly the Maid, The Maid's Secret is another winner. Pro tip: keep tissues handy for Gran’s diary chapters.
Molly the Maid continues to shine in her quirky, heartfelt way in The Maid's Secret. This third installment in the series is still full of charm, mystery, and wisdom that made me fall even more in love with Molly and Gran.
This time, Molly stumbles into a priceless Fabergé egg hidden in one of Gran’s old possessions—a discovery that unravels a heist at the Regency Grand Hotel and leads Molly to uncover secrets from Gran’s past. Honestly, if I could bottle and sell Gran’s diary entries, I’d be rich, because she served up line after line of pure, unfiltered granny wisdom that hit me right in the feels.
Lines like:
"Sometimes the biggest losses lead to the greatest gains. Sometimes the darkest days end in the brightest nights."
...reminded me of why this series stands out—it’s not just about solving mysteries; it’s about exploring love, loss, and what it means to truly live.
And Gran’s final lesson? Absolute perfection:
"Love cannot be stolen. Not by anyone. Those who do not know love place no value upon it. But people like us, who do know it, possess a treasure that can never be taken away."
Molly is as endearing as ever—her unique perspective and sincerity make her a joy to follow. While some of the plot points were a bit predictable, the cozy vibes and emotional depth more than made up for it. The mix of mystery and heart is what keeps me coming back, and I can’t wait to see where Molly’s journey takes her next.
What Happened to the McCrays? by Tracey Lange
emotional
hopeful
inspiring
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
5.0
Tracey Lange, you’ve done it again. I don’t know how she manages to so perfectly capture the complexities of family, but What Happened to the McCrays? had me hooked from start to finish. This is a story about love, loss, and the way families can fall apart and come back together, with every messy, beautiful nuance in between.
The McCray family felt so vivid and real, like I could drive to their house and sit down at their kitchen table for a cup of coffee. Lange has this incredible way of making you care deeply for her characters—even when they frustrate you or break your heart. Every member of the McCray family brought something unique to the story, and their individual struggles felt so raw and honest.
What I loved most about this book was how Lange dives headfirst into the gray areas of relationships. There’s no black-and-white, no “good guys” or “bad guys.” It’s all about the messy middle, where love and hurt coexist, and healing takes time (and a lot of patience).
The writing? Chef’s kiss. Lange’s prose is straightforward yet brimming with emotion, which makes the heavy themes of the book hit even harder. And the pacing was spot-on—I was so invested in uncovering the family’s secrets that I stayed up way too late flipping pages, just needing to know what would happen next.
If you loved The Connellys of County Down or We Are the Brennans, you’ll feel right at home with this one. Lange has a gift for reminding us that family isn’t always easy, but it’s always worth fighting for.
More or Less Maddy by Lisa Genova
emotional
hopeful
sad
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.0
There’s something about a Lisa Genova novel that just hits you right in the chest. More or Less Maddy was no exception—it’s raw, heartfelt, and achingly real in its portrayal of mental health, identity, and ambition.
Maddy Banks is such a compelling main character: she’s messy, ambitious, and painfully relatable in her struggles to find herself while balancing a life that feels like it’s spiraling out of control. Watching her navigate her diagnosis of bipolar disorder while also trying to pursue her dream of becoming a stand-up comedian was both heartbreaking and inspiring. Genova’s writing really captures that sharp edge between light and dark, comedy and tragedy, and the balance feels so authentic—probably because it’s exactly what so many of us experience in our own lives.
One of my favorite things about this book was how vividly it depicted Maddy’s freshman year at NYU. The chaos of a new city, the pressure to succeed, and the terrifying freedom of being on your own for the first time—it’s all here. And it’s all so beautifully layered with Maddy’s inner turmoil, making her triumphs feel even more rewarding and her setbacks all the more gut-wrenching.
That said, there were moments where the pacing dragged a bit, and some of the side characters felt a little underdeveloped compared to Maddy’s magnetic presence. But honestly, it didn’t take away from the story's impact.
This book shines in its exploration of mental health, and I have to applaud Genova for how she portrayed Maddy’s bipolar disorder—not as a plot device, but as an integral part of who she is. It’s nuanced and empathetic, and it doesn’t shy away from showing both the beauty and the pain of living with a condition that’s so often misunderstood.
Maddy Banks is such a compelling main character: she’s messy, ambitious, and painfully relatable in her struggles to find herself while balancing a life that feels like it’s spiraling out of control. Watching her navigate her diagnosis of bipolar disorder while also trying to pursue her dream of becoming a stand-up comedian was both heartbreaking and inspiring. Genova’s writing really captures that sharp edge between light and dark, comedy and tragedy, and the balance feels so authentic—probably because it’s exactly what so many of us experience in our own lives.
One of my favorite things about this book was how vividly it depicted Maddy’s freshman year at NYU. The chaos of a new city, the pressure to succeed, and the terrifying freedom of being on your own for the first time—it’s all here. And it’s all so beautifully layered with Maddy’s inner turmoil, making her triumphs feel even more rewarding and her setbacks all the more gut-wrenching.
That said, there were moments where the pacing dragged a bit, and some of the side characters felt a little underdeveloped compared to Maddy’s magnetic presence. But honestly, it didn’t take away from the story's impact.
This book shines in its exploration of mental health, and I have to applaud Genova for how she portrayed Maddy’s bipolar disorder—not as a plot device, but as an integral part of who she is. It’s nuanced and empathetic, and it doesn’t shy away from showing both the beauty and the pain of living with a condition that’s so often misunderstood.
The Heart's Invisible Furies by John Boyne
emotional
reflective
relaxing
sad
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
5.0
I think I just found my new favorite author of all time and it’s making me EMOTIONAL. This was my first book by John Boyne, and I am genuinely embarrassed it took me so long to pick it up. It’s been taunting me from my TBR shelf for months, and I kept avoiding it because of its size—rookie mistake. Every single page was worth it. Boyne doesn’t just write stories; he crafts entire worlds filled with characters so alive, they practically jump off the page.
I don’t even know where to start because The Heart’s Invisible Furies is one of those rare stories that doesn’t just stay with you—it burrows into your chest and makes a home there. It’s big, bold, messy, and painfully human in all the best ways.
Cyril Avery’s life unfolds across decades and continents, and every twist, every heartbreak, and every moment of humor feels so rich and alive. Boyne masterfully weaves together themes of identity, love, loss, resilience, and redemption. It’s a story that doesn’t shy away from the harsh truths of life but still manages to hold onto hope.
Take this quote, for instance:
I don’t even know where to start because The Heart’s Invisible Furies is one of those rare stories that doesn’t just stay with you—it burrows into your chest and makes a home there. It’s big, bold, messy, and painfully human in all the best ways.
Cyril Avery’s life unfolds across decades and continents, and every twist, every heartbreak, and every moment of humor feels so rich and alive. Boyne masterfully weaves together themes of identity, love, loss, resilience, and redemption. It’s a story that doesn’t shy away from the harsh truths of life but still manages to hold onto hope.
Take this quote, for instance:
“Maybe there were no villains in my mother’s story at all. Just men and women, trying to do their best by each other. And failing.”
That’s the heartbeat of this book—messy, imperfect people making choices that ripple out in ways they never intended. It’s gut-wrenching, but it’s also deeply forgiving.
Cyril himself is such a flawed, layered character. There were moments I wanted to shake him, moments I wanted to hug him, and moments I just wanted to cry for him. His journey isn’t a straight line—it’s full of detours, wrong turns, and moments of grace. And the people around him, from his complicated adoptive parents to his friends and lovers, all feel just as real and raw.
And then there’s this quote I loved that reflects on the feeling of grieving someone you loved:
Cyril himself is such a flawed, layered character. There were moments I wanted to shake him, moments I wanted to hug him, and moments I just wanted to cry for him. His journey isn’t a straight line—it’s full of detours, wrong turns, and moments of grace. And the people around him, from his complicated adoptive parents to his friends and lovers, all feel just as real and raw.
And then there’s this quote I loved that reflects on the feeling of grieving someone you loved:
“Does it ever get easier?" she asked. I nodded. "It does," I said. You reach a point where you realize that your life must go on regardless. You choose to live or you choose to die. But then there are moments, things that you see, something funny on the street or a good joke that you hear, a television program that you want to share, and it makes you miss the person who's gone terribly and then it's not grief at all, it's more a sort of bitterness at the world for taking them away from you.”
It’s passages like this that hit you like a ton of bricks because they speak to something so universal—grief, love, and the way life keeps moving forward whether you’re ready or not.
Boyne’s writing is stunning, blending humor and heartbreak in a way that feels effortless. One moment, you’re laughing at Cyril’s wry observations about the world, and the next, you’re choking back tears at the injustices and losses he faces.
What makes this book so special is how it captures the full spectrum of human experience. It’s a story about being seen, about finding your place in a world that doesn’t always make it easy, and about the quiet, everyday acts of bravery that come with just choosing to keep going.
Boyne’s writing is stunning, blending humor and heartbreak in a way that feels effortless. One moment, you’re laughing at Cyril’s wry observations about the world, and the next, you’re choking back tears at the injustices and losses he faces.
What makes this book so special is how it captures the full spectrum of human experience. It’s a story about being seen, about finding your place in a world that doesn’t always make it easy, and about the quiet, everyday acts of bravery that come with just choosing to keep going.
Severance by Ling Ma
dark
emotional
sad
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
5.0
TLDR: If you like your dystopian fiction to feel unsettlingly close to reality, Severance is a must-read. It’s haunting, witty, and quietly profound in all the best ways. Ling Ma has absolutely earned her spot on my list of favorite authors.
—
Ling Ma’s Severance hit me like a slow, creeping wave I didn’t realize was building until I was completely submerged. This is speculative fiction at its finest—darkly funny, razor-sharp, and so eerily relevant it almost feels like it’s reading you.
The story follows Candace Chen, a millennial navigating a post-apocalyptic world after a global pandemic wipes out most of the population. But honestly, it’s not even really about the pandemic—it’s about everything else. It’s about the numbing monotony of office life, the mindless routines we cling to even when the world is literally crumbling around us, and the bittersweet weight of memory.
Ling Ma’s writing is phenomenal. The prose flows seamlessly between Candace’s past and present, capturing both the absurdity and the tragedy of modern life. There’s this incredible mix of humor and melancholy that makes you laugh one second and then slap you with existential dread the next.
And that quote—“A second chance doesn't mean you're in the clear. In many ways, it is the more difficult thing. Because a second chance means that you have to try harder. You must rise to the challenge without the blind optimism of ignorance.”—just crushed me. It perfectly encapsulates the quiet weight of the story and the way it reflects on survival, resilience, and what it means to keep going when you’re not sure why.
This is a book that sneaks up on you. At first, it seems like just another post-apocalyptic story, but it’s so much more than that. It’s a meditation on capitalism, nostalgia, and the strange contradictions of being human in a world that feels increasingly disconnected.
What It's Like in Words: A Novel by Eliza Moss
emotional
reflective
sad
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
5.0
Eliza Moss’s What It’s Like in Words is one of those books that feels like it was written specifically for the part of your soul you didn’t even realize needed to be seen. It’s introspective, raw, and deeply emotional in a way that lingers long after you’ve finished.
The story follows Enola, an almost-thirty writer who’s caught in the grip of a toxic relationship while wrestling with her identity, creativity, and the shadow of unresolved childhood trauma. Moss doesn’t sugarcoat anything here—she takes you into the messy, uncertain parts of life and relationships with a clarity that feels both poetic and painfully real.
Enola’s relationship is a slow-motion car crash you can’t look away from, and her journey feels universal in its portrayal of how love can heal and destroy at the same time. It’s a book about finding your voice, both as a writer and as a person, and the delicate balance of holding on to what matters while letting go of what doesn’t.
There’s a vulnerability in Moss’s writing that’s rare, the kind of honesty that makes you stop and reread sentences because they hit so close to home. The way she explores art and its role in both breaking us apart and piecing us back together is stunning.
Here One Moment by Liane Moriarty
reflective
relaxing
sad
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? No
5.0
TLDR: Here One Moment is an unforgettable story about the fragility of life, the power of choice, and the inevitability of the unexpected. If you’re a fan of Liane Moriarty’s work, this one’s a must-read. If you’re not, this might just convert you.
Liane Moriarty has this unmatched ability to take a unique, high-concept premise and weave it into a story that feels deeply human and grounded. Here One Moment is no exception. I was hooked from the start, and while it reminded me a bit of The Measure by Nikki Erlick, Moriarty’s writing and storytelling are so distinct that it still felt completely original.
This book is about the what-ifs and the worst-case scenarios we imagine every day—those fleeting, terrifying thoughts that make us pause but rarely linger.
"We all imagine terrible things. It’s a way of preparing ourselves, or a way of protecting ourselves: if I imagine it, it surely won’t happen. But that’s the thing about life: both your wildest dreams and your worst nightmares can come true."
Moriarty explores this idea with her signature blend of wit, emotion, and razor-sharp observations about human nature. The story dives into the lives of characters who feel so real you almost forget they’re fictional. Their relationships, decisions, and regrets all feel authentic, messy, and utterly relatable.
The pacing is perfect, the twists are surprising, and the emotional gut punches hit just right. It’s one of those books that leaves you reflecting long after you’ve turned the last page, wondering how you’d navigate the same impossible choices.
Leaving Time by Jodi Picoult
emotional
mysterious
reflective
sad
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
5.0
TLDR: Leaving Time is a masterful exploration of grief, love, and the lengths we go to for the people we’ve lost. If you’re looking for a story that will break you and rebuild you all in the same breath, this is it. Jodi Picoult is my forever comfort author, and books like this remind me why. I’ll keep working through her extensive backlist and cherish each one.
Jodi Picoult has done it again. Leaving Time is one of those books that reminds you exactly why Picoult is the queen of deeply human, emotionally charged storytelling. Every time I pick up one of her books, I know I’m going to cry, question life’s biggest mysteries, and fall in love with characters who feel as real as the people I know.
This story blends a fascinating exploration of grief with a twisty, jaw-dropping mystery and just enough tenderness to break your heart. Picoult weaves together the threads of a mother’s disappearance, a daughter’s relentless search for answers, and, somehow, elephants—yes, elephants—in a way that feels so unexpected yet so perfect.
The themes of grief, love, and letting go are at the heart of this story, and no one writes them quite like Picoult. She creates moments of wisdom that stop you in your tracks, like:
“I wonder if, as you get older, you stop missing people so fiercely. Maybe growing up is just focusing on what you've got, instead of what you don't.”
Or this one that hit me right in the feels:
“Could it be as simple as that? Could love be not grand gestures or empty vows, not promises meant to be broken, but instead a paper trail of forgiveness? A line of crumbs made of memories, to lead you back to the person who was waiting?”
And of course, the elephants. Their grief and ability to move on offer such a profound contrast to how humans handle loss.
“One of the most amazing things about elephants mourning in the wild is their ability to grieve hard, but then truly, unequivocally, let go. Humans can't seem to do that.”
The twist in this story? Absolutely stunning. Just when you think you have it all figured out, Picoult flips the entire narrative on its head in a way that feels shocking yet entirely earned. It’s the kind of twist that stays with you long after you’ve turned the last page.