readingpicnic's reviews
472 reviews

The narration for this was incredible, and I liked that the author added little notes to introduce each essay and is honest about his thought processes at the time of writing them. I do think there was some repetition I noticed across some essays, such as saying almost the same thing twice while talking about Carly Rae Jepsen in different essays, but other than that, this was an incredible and impactful read. I liked how music was woven throughout the book and how he was unafraid to turn a critical eye towards musicians and the punk scene. I can see some similarities between this book and Monsters: A Fan's Dilemma.

Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher Catapult, Counterpoint Press, and Soft Skull Press for a free digital ARC of this book in exchange for an honest review.
I tried to stick this one through, but I realized that I was forcing myself to keep going and not enjoying myself. There isn't much story to this memoir, and it was a lot more philosophizing on love and definitions of different words than I expected it to be. The writing was also a bit inaccessible to me; I'm not sure if it was too poetic or convoluted? It didn't feel like it was saying anything new to me either. The book was incredibly slow moving, and I felt like I was trudging through, so I have decided to put this aside for at least now. The mixed media nature of this book was cool though with its photographs, photography, and art sprinkled throughout. 

Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher Grove Atlantic for a free digital ARC of this book in exchange for an honest review. 
This book started off very strong with setting up the family dynamics that largely stayed throughout the whole book, which moves slowly through the family’s lives and deaths. Ollie is a strong personality that kept my interest the whole book, even when she wasn’t always present. There are lots of conversations and ponderings on how your childhood home environment traumatizes you in less obvious ways that influence how you react to situations in adulthood. I will say that Amy was a very passive voice in this story that didn’t do much for me personally; she was Nick and Ollie was Gatsby in terms of Ollie feeling like the MAIN character who everything revolved around. Since the book is called Shred Sisters, I would have preferred for Ollie to have been more of a character than she was—it seemed like she was mostly defined by her mental illnesses and manic episodes, only really settling down when becoming a mother, which was…a strange way to resolve the book I think. I’m personally wary of books where motherhood is posed as a solution to a character’s life problems. There was also some casual fatphobia thrown in with the main character feeling glad and superior that her ex and his wife gained weight, and I can’t tell if that’s just an in-character thing for her to think??? The storytelling method also put me off quite a bit with the character occasionally speaking with insight from the present tense and commenting on moments of her life, which I wasn’t the biggest fan of. It began to feel like the jumps in time were essentially “and then this happened, and then this happened, and then I got a different lover, and then…” which I got tired of after a while. Again, I really enjoyed the beginning, and I wish that the book had stayed there longer (or for its entirety). A dual pov with Ollie also would have been interesting. Overall, I think the movement through time in this story wasn’t executed very well, and I lost interest towards the end.

Erotic, but also deeply sad. The dreary, crumbling cemetery setting of most of the novel works so well towards creating a bleak atmosphere. This book wasn't the sapphic romance I initially thought it would be. It centers more on persecution and murder in an ever-changing and unfamiliar world in the vampire's case, and being a single mom and drifting away from everyone while grieving her ever-ailing elderly mother in Alma's case. I do think I preferred the vampire's chapters over the latter half of the book and found them more interesting; Alma's chapters dragged for me at times and it didn't feel like much was happening.

I don’t really know how to rate this book—I wanted to finish it and get away from it as soon as possible, but it was also great writing. This is perhaps the most fucked up and perverse book I’ve ever read, and it was very hard to read. I found myself reminded of Omori, The Bluest Eye by Toni Morrison, We’re All Going to the World’s Fair, and I Saw the TV Glow while reading this. I was having trouble getting into it for a while, but around page 100 I couldn’t put it down. Mónica Ojeda really knows how to explore fucked up childhood, dealing with trauma in complex ways, taboo topics, and questioning gender and sexuality in the most graphic of ways. Jawbone is probably my favorite book of all time, so I don’t regret reading this, but I do think some of the descriptions in this book are going to haunt me forever. Also my partner said this book had some of the most disgusting code they've ever seen lol.

Thank you to NetGalley and Oni Press for a free digital ARC of this book in exchange for an honest review.
This book was so MESSY and GAY. I've never read something that so succinctly captures the experience of every lesbian in an isolated area knowing each other and having canoodled in some way or another. I feel like I was just whispering "oh my god, please stop" for the entirety of this book, but I also could not tear my eyes away.  Some of these girls need a time out, I swear to god. The art style is so delectable, which could be to blame for me not giving myself a break from this stress! All of that to say, this book was also incredibly hilarious and messy, and I had a great time reading it.
I haven't seen such creative use of panels and bleeds and layering and breaking the walls of panels since reading the manga Our Dreams at Dusk, and I adored how visually stunning it was. One scene that really entranced me was when Molly was running while crying--just so fucking cool. The author's choice of color was so playful and bold, and I was just in awe. I loved that the author included a little bonus explanation behind their choice of color in this book. This is the messy lesbian rep we need!!! 5 stars, no notes.

Thank you to NetGalley and Atria Books for a free digital ARC of this book in exchange for an honest review.

I was beyond excited to receive an ARC of this book and let out a “yippee!” of joy! Full of the morbid humor I’ve come to love and expect from Emily Austin, she is a definite auto-read author for me. I’m also obsessed with the continuation of the lesbian main characters of her novels having old woman names, which brings me such unbridled joy. This one’s for the undiagnosed neurodivergent mentally ill sapphics who never quite got along with their family members due to not understanding social cues and were constantly admonished for being too “rude,” “ungrateful,” “impolite,” “abrasive,” “blunt,” and “difficult” and now live in a constant state of anxiety that they are off-putting to everyone around them. I just feel like Emily Austin scooped her main characters out of my brain whenever I read her books–they are far too relatable. Please picture me giggling quietly to myself at my library service desk while reading this. I honestly did not expect the twist ~60% through the book, and it was a pleasant surprise and a great shift in the storytelling, as I was starting to feel that it was getting a bit repetitive for me. I think this book could have easily only included Sigrid's POV and given us her perspective of Margit, but I was really glad that her perspective was shared to, as she is not holding it together like Sigrid thinks she is, and it really showed her complexity as a character--really great way of showing the distance that has grown between the sisters and how they have warped views of each other. The small town politics present through most of the story was also far too relatable, especially the arguments with family members, the pressure to keep quiet and maintain a false sense of peace even while the people around you are spouting hatred, the Facebook comment arguments (which I did partake in with someone from my town about wedding cake makers refusing to serve queer people). I found myself highlighting so many quotes while I was reading and having as good of a time as I could due to the subject matter dealing heavily with mental illness and su*cide. I've come to love how there's always some little mystery that constantly pesters at the main characters of Emily Austin's books: the missing cat in Everyone in This Room Will Someday Be Dead, the people "fucking" upstairs in Interesting Facts About Space, the googly eye thief in this book. There's just a really nice consistency across all of these books and they feel inextricably connected with their main characters working through mental health struggles and questions of what it means to be a good person. I think if you enjoyed her other books, you would enjoy this one as well--just have some patience with the "attempts" chapters and know that they aren't the format of the whole book.

Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher Holiday House/Peachtree/Pixel+Ink for a free digital ARC of this book in exchange for an honest review.
Phew, this was a hell of a book. Chock full of gore, generational trauma, growing up trans and queer in a very rural area, deadly family feuds, and how the land holds its history, I would not say this is for the faint of heart. My reading experience was full of grimacing, wincing, and shuddering. I felt a deep connection to Miles as someone who grew up in a rural hometown in Michigan that was shockingly similar to the story's West Virginian town, although I figured out my transness much later. Similar to Miles, I was naive in my belief that my parents were good people, and therefore, if I came out as trans to them, they would do the work to understand. Instead, I send TikToks to a groupchat of "how to use they/them pronouns" that go ignored and unopened, similar to the abundance of resources Miles painstakingly collects in his coming out email to his parents, which they ignore at first. The growth of his family and the way they stuck together even when they didn't understand Miles' transness fully was a consistence I needed in this book, painful learning curves and all. There was also an emphasis on being queer and trans without leaving your rural hometown--acknowledging that we still exist in rural spaces, even if the world seems to think we don't.
I really liked the discussions of neurodivergence, both because they were relatable and because they highlighted the importance of finding neurodivergent community to support you and share advice on making your environment as accessible as possible for your needs (loved the shower ritual scene that Amber shared with Miles; it warmed my heart and made me rethink how I force myself into discomfort because I feel like I should be able to handle it.)
I will say that this book lost me towards the middle when it felt like an endless loop of "let's kill these kids! but wait, they're a product of their environment, so isn't this wrong, actually?" I don't know how to feel about the violence these kids enacted on each other throughout this book

and that the conclusion for most of them was gruesome and bloody death

--it made a lot of the valid arguments about how they weren't necessarily at fault for how they were raised and the pressures that forced them into working for the Davies' feel meaningless to me. 
I'll admit I don't know a lot about communism, but it felt like it was kind of sloppily slipped into the story at some points? Like, it felt like the author just wanted to talk about communism and threw in their thoughts as they saw fit. 

More weird plot things that didn't make much sense to me: Miles' parents not guessing that the Davies' and their posse attacked him until Miles said it outright late into the story because it seemed so obvious; Cooper's death felt like a cop-out to me because he was mentally ill and "too far gone" instead of doing more with his character, and I wonder if part of killing him off was to make room for a queer-platonic relationship between Miles and Dallas; the insistence on recreating history with both Miles' family sending him off to trap Noah with the same tools as his ancestor and Davies' insistence on killing Miles with the railroad spike just like his ancestor did to Saint; the family absolutely normalizing Miles and Cooper killing Paul and Eddie as if their family feud excuses them as casualties; genuinely how did Noah know so much about Miles' life and actions?

I think I enjoyed this book overall? The writing style and sensory details were good, but I think the plot just lost me a little bit.

A very excellent look behind the scenes of Joshua Whitehead's writing and storytelling craft. Having read Jonny Appleseed before this book was really beneficial to my understanding and appreciation of the Joshua's discussions of character and story creation--I loved the imagery of his stories staying attached to him like umbilical cords. I do kind of feel like this book wouldn't have hit quite as hard if I hadn't read Jonny Appleseed first, since they discuss it at such length throughout. I liked the discussions of translation in this book and how authors don't owe it to their readers to translate non-English languages into English--that it's on the reader to do that work or it's simply not for them; how it's like an easter egg for speakers of those languages; how the reader's work of translating language is like a collaboration between them and the author. The comments about the inaccessibility of academic writing being a hindrance or barrier to most people from learning about social justice, theory, and philosophy was so true, and I loved that he slides these topics into his fiction books to try and make them more accessible to a wider audience. The images and layout of this little book was also visually stunning. It did seem like a lot of the interviewer's questions came down to her not realizing that something that was included in Jonny Appleseed was common in Indigenous culture or in the Peguis First Nation and that he was trying to portray those day to day experiences and styles of communicating accurately (such as the comfortability discussing sex, the importance/informativeness of dreams, the humor within his book, etc.)