Category: Read This Book

Rory has a career, apartment, and fantastic life in New York City, but when her twin sister Scarlet calls and says she’s pregnant and alone, Rory leaves it all behind to be with her sister in their hometown until the birth. Returning to the place she gleefully left behind is a trip—but things get weird when Rory is in a car accident and winds up in the hospital after an animal attack. While she’s trying to recover and move past the bizarre event, she starts to notice changes in her body, and her wounds bleed silver. As the next full moon approaches, Rory starts to contemplate the impossible: Is she a werewolf now?

Out of all of Rachel Harrison’s books, this one might be my favorite because I absolutely adored the characters, and I found Rory to be a really relatable character, even if she doesn’t always make the best of choices. Her devotion to her twin is great, and I loved Rory and Scarlet’s banter and their steadfast but complex relationship. Rory may put on a free-wheeling front, but the reality is she’s afraid of romantic attachments, and while she’s devoted to her job and loves her sister, she doesn’t always find contentment in her life, and she’s got tons of issues with her mom. But her time in her hometown forces her to face these issues once and for all, including her anger about an incident of sexual harassment and assault when she was a young teen that no one fully believed in the moment. Rory’s transformation into a werewolf is an exploration of that anger and the helplessness women often feel about circumstances beyond their control, things that are done to them without their consent. But her story is far from sad. It’s a little dark, very funny, and pretty cathartic to read as Rory goes from reacting to taking control of her life and the unexpected changes she undergoes, and I was rooting for her all the way.

Bonus: The audiobook narrated by Kristen Sieh is excellent!

Megan Kamalei Kakimoto’s new collection, Every Drop Is a Man’s Nightmare, is a multifaceted look at what it’s like to be Kānaka Maoli (Native Hawaiian). Of mixed Japanese and Native Hawaiian ancestry, Kakimoto’s stories examine the lives of the Indigenous women from the islands of Hawai’i. 

In “Aiko, the Writer,” a queer writer is on a writer’s panel on the continent, fully aware that the conference is less interested in her work and really just wants her to check an Indigenous diversity box. As she attends the conference, she grapples with whether or not she should write about some closed cultural practices from her community. Does she share these ideas with the world to benefit her career, or does she respect her cultural heritage?

“The Love and Decline of the Corpse Flower” features a woman whose partner has died, but a woman who looks strikingly similar is growing out of a corpse flower. In “Touch Me Like One of Your Island Girls: A Love Story,” a woman struggling financially answers an ad for a Native Hawaiian woman to star in adult films for white men. In “Hotel Molokai,” a teenage girl is taken to a secret location by her grandmother—against her mother’s wishes—to participate in a ceremony that signifies her new womanhood.

Each of Kakimoto’s stories centers around different ideas of Indigeneity in the face of ongoing colonialism. These women and girls are making their way in the world, defining for themselves what it means to be Kānaka Maoli. There is no singular answer, and each person works through their ideas, deciding their futures for themselves.

Kakimoto uses elements of fabulism in her storytelling, reminding me of other queer writers, like K-Ming Chang, who use qualities of folklore and fables in their fiction. Each tale is a unique gem, perfectly polished. Her messy, complex protagonists are fully formed and glorious. I could go on, but it’s safe to say that Every Drop Is a Man’s Nightmare is one of my favorite books of the year.

This book is integral in bridging the gap between knowing many of us need rest and practical tips on how we can get that rest. How do we actually rest? What the heck is rest aside from napping? Divest from capitalism, sure, but what does that even look like in reality when we live in a capitalist society? Rest Easy by Ximena Vengoechea is the book I didn’t even know I needed, and now that I’ve read it, I need to share it with everyone.

Ximena Vengoechea wrote another book I love titled Listen Like You Mean It, which pulled from her knowledge as a User Experience Researcher at large tech companies. As one can imagine, she got really burned out from that job plus being an author plus being a new mom, so she decided to put on her researcher hat and look into what rest is because she really, really needed it. She experimented with so many types of rest, interviewed a ton of people, and read a bunch of writing about rest not only in the United States but elsewhere. In this book, she shares not only some of her research but also the actual activities (or non-activities) that she found were restful.

At the beginning of the book, she addresses the social, racial, political, economical, etc. reasons why rest may not be accessible to some folks or why some folks look at rest in different ways depending on their situation and background. She digs into not only how others get in our way but also how we get in our own way of rest. The way a lot of us “rest” now, by shoving all our rest into our days off of work, is not sustainable and not actually helpful, according to Vengoechea’s research.

The author writes about why it is important to rest for resting’s sake and not only so that we can do more, even though rest can promote creativity. She also explains how rest doesn’t only mean being still and how things like exercise, knitting, baking, and other hobbies can be rest. The hallmark of rest is that we generally feel better after we do it, which is why she says that mindlessly scrolling the internet doesn’t usually count as rest.

As soon as I finished this book, I felt I needed to give it a reread. There is just so much in it that I want to absorb and try to implement in my every day.

Evie lives with her Aunt Desdemona in the town of Blight Harbor, which is the seventh most haunted town in the country. She doesn’t mind ghosts—there are lots in Blight Harbor—and her aunt writes an advice column about supernatural issues. But when an old abattoir has Aunt Desdemona spooked, Evie is curious. And when an entity called the Clackity steals her aunt, Evie is forced to face a series of trials to confront the dangerous ghost of a serial killer in order to bring her aunt back.

I enjoyed the setting of Blight Harbor and Evie’s delightfully eccentric family and friends. The author does a good job of creating various creepy settings, from the old abattoir to the curious shadowy world that Evie finds herself venturing into, and the Clackity is a truly chilling monster. The mission that Evie must take on forces her to face her own tragic past—she lost her parents in a house fire, and their remains were never recovered. As she makes deals with supernatural entities and outwits monsters and ghosts, she begins to suspect that perhaps there is more to the fire and her parents aren’t really dead. Although that is a mystery that isn’t resolved in this book (don’t worry, there are sequels!), it provides a tantalizing backdrop to Evie’s journey to save her aunt, using her own unique skills and relying on some unexpected new friends, including a bird tattoo that can move across her skin. The book is a delicious mix of creepy and heartwarming, and it makes for perfect reading on a cold October night! Definitely pick it up if you’re looking for something to read that is evocative of Coraline by Neil Gaiman.

If you enjoy this one, make sure you look out for the sequel, The Nighthouse Keeper, out next week!

A few years ago, I watched the first season of HBO’s Gentleman Jack, a fictionalized mini-series of the very real character of Anne Lister, one of Britain’s most famous lesbians from the early 19th century. Gentleman Jack’s Lister is a brash risk taker and a bit of a rake. But her charisma and pure magnetism capture viewers’ attention.

Emma Donoghue’s Anne Lister is 15 and at boarding school, still gangly and awkward, unsure of herself. But Learned By Heart is told from the perspective of 14-year-old Eliza Raine, a biracial girl with a British father and an Indian mother. Eliza and Lister are thrown together when they are assigned to a room together. Lister is strange to Eliza. She is well-read, cheeky, and unladylike. Eliza feels a pull towards Lister while simultaneously suspecting Lister might become her downfall.

Learned By Heart captures your attention from its first pages, drawing you into the world of two teenage girls. Their school is strict, demanding the utmost obedience displayed through a meek acceptance of authority. But before she even realizes that it’s possible, Eliza has fallen in love with Lister. There’s so much pining and teenage angst. Through Eliza’s eyes, we see what draws her to Lister. Like Eliza, Lister possesses an otherness that sets her apart from the other girls. And before long, Eliza and Lister are smitten, taking more and more risks with their secret relationship.

Donoghue shines brightest in her historical fiction. In her author’s note, she describes the elements of Eliza’s story that she fictionalized, the gaps in the historical record, and what really happened to Eliza after the end of the novel. As Anne Lister’s famous journals (of over five million words) gain more notoriety, Donoghue describes how she felt drawn to Eliza and wanted to highlight a woman she felt was given short shrift.

Marion Shaw has grown up in the South of Prane in the slums. In this fictional world, the South and the North are at odds in almost every way. Marion’s parents died when she was younger, leaving her with her abusive older brother, Raul, who depends on his maudlum addiction to numb him of his physical and emotional pain. Marion is a maid in town, and she’s pretty much the only source of money to be coming into her and Raul’s home.

Marion dreams of so much more, and she knows there is money to be made in the North. The nobles of the North have peculiar tastes, which is to say, they drink blood. If a person is lucky enough to be chosen and brought on as a bloodmaid, they would be set for life after their few years of service. They live in the great noble houses of the North, existing in opulence and luxury, and they would regularly be bled for their masters and mistresses. It is understood that after their tenure, bloodmaids are given a large pension to remain in luxury for the rest of their days. There are 24 great houses in the North, and Marion dreams of leaving Prane and becoming a bloodmaid, which is super frowned upon in the South. Southerners think it’s disgusting and depraved, but Marion sees it as a way to a better life.

Marion spots an ad in the paper for a bloodmaid. She sneaks out on her brother to go be “interviewed” and meets a taster who bleeds her and offers her a place in one of the great houses. Marion agrees and leaves Prane, not without a lot of difficulty and violence. But when Marion arrives at the House of Hunger, that’s when the real story begins. The house employs a number of bloodmaids, all of whom serve the Countess Lisavet Bathory. Countess Bathory has an exceptional need for blood, which is why she employs so many bloodmaids. Of course, things are not what they seem, and the bloodmaids vie for rank and attention.

Content warning: there is a lot of blood and gore in this book, as well as taxidermy. Humans aren’t the only beings harmed in these pages.

Cory, Maz, and Sam were the best of friends until the age of 12, when Sam disappeared, and Cory and Maz fell apart. Part of the reason for their friendship deteriorating? Maz was convinced that Sam wasn’t missing but that a pinball machine at the corner store sucked him in. Cory doesn’t believe them, and now it’s 1992, and they’re 17, going to different schools and not talking anymore. But one night, Sam comes back…only, he’s still 12. Maz and Cory must now face the unbelievable truth that Sam really did spend the last five years trapped in a nefarious pinball machine and hide Sam from their friends and family, all the while figuring out what to do about the pinball machine, which isn’t done with them yet.

Going by the cover alone, this book is clearly trying to evoke a Stranger Things vibe, and while it’s not a one-for-one comparison, there are definitely similarities. If you want a late ’80s/early ’90s setting (the book moves back and forth between before and after Sam goes missing and when he returns), and you like books that look at the various social groups in high school and how they deal with supernatural happenings, this book scratches that itch. It’s also more diverse than Stranger Things in its central characters — Cory is a closeted lesbian who is dealing with a crush on her best friend, Janet, and Maz is Iranian American.

Like I said at the outset, this book isn’t super scary, but it has some really good suspense and intrigue, and there’s a nice mystery wrapped up in the questions about the pinball machine and why it works the way it does. Without giving anything away, Farizan really ratchets up the tension and the danger alongside the emotional stakes for the characters, and I was definitely glued to the pages to see what would happen next! Come for the possessed pinball machine, stay for the nuanced take on friendships and how they change over time!

Like so many great novels, this one seems to take place at the end of the world. An environmental disaster has caused smog to cover much of the planet, killing off most of the crops and animals. Our unnamed protagonist, an Asian American chef living in Europe, finds herself in a dead-end job working with the limited ingredients left to the general populace.

Deciding she really has nothing better to do, the chef takes a job working for a billionaire living in a compound on the top of a mountain in Italy. High above the smog, the chef cooks in a kitchen full of now-rare ingredients like butter, strawberries, avocados, and chocolate. Aida, the billionaire’s genius daughter, heads up the research to preserve species dying off because of the smog. She also provides the chef with the rare ingredients that she’s been craving. Later, Aida shows her the lab and the hounds she’s been breeding. The chef can hardly believe her eyes.

Before long, the chef finds herself cooking for the richest people in the world, all of whom are being wined and dined by the billionaire and Aida in order to fund their research and planned move farther above the smog. The meals become more involved, more detailed, and more pageant-like. 

From the first few pages, I was smitten with the chef’s narrative voice. The way that she tells her story, carefully describing each ingredient she comes across, is mesmerizing. As the chef finds herself working with Aida, I began to feel the intense attraction that draws the two of them together. This novel centers these characters’ stories, their connection to food, and the simple enjoyments that make them human. I couldn’t help but hang on every word, desperate for them to stay together but also wanting the chef to run away as fast as she can.

Our protagonist and narrator is Shay Johnson, a biracial Black superstar student at TK Anderson Magical Magnet School. Shay’s parents aren’t wealthy, so they’ve sent her to this well-resourced high school in order for her to have a better chance at success. The specific success they hope for would be winning the Brockton Scholarship. The Brockton Scholarship guarantees a full ride to her top university of choice, a university that her family could not afford to send her to otherwise.

The scholarship is not only based on GPA but on extracurriculars both at school and outside of school and magic levels, which are tested regularly by blood tests. There is a giant leader board at school that broadcasts who is in the top spot for the scholarship, mostly based on GPA and magic levels. Shay’s fiercest competition is Ana Alvarez, her nemesis. Shay and Ana use every opportunity to drag each other, and the competition is fierce.

Shay is an absolute genius when it comes to potion work, and the whole school knows it. She is the head of the potions club, and she has a part-time job at a potion shop with her best friend Lex. Lex is in that time between high school and college, where she is trying to get into the college of her choice, or really, any college at this point. Shay’s mom thinks that Shay and Lex are dating ever since Shay came out to her parents as a lesbian, so it’s always awkward to mention Lex at home.

To add to the drama, there is a teacher. The drama teacher, actually, Mr. Brockton, as in the head of the scholarship committee for the Brockton Scholarship, which his very wealthy family gave a lot of money to create. This year, Mr. B has chosen an aggressively diverse musical for the drama club to put on. There aren’t many students of color, and Mr. B not-so-subtly lets Shay know that her eligibility to win the scholarship would increase if she did the musical. He may have told Shay’s enemy, Ana, the same thing. Shay is really weirded out by how comfortable Mr. B seems to be with being physically up in her space. She thinks she might be overreacting, and she definitely doesn’t want to ruin her chances to win the scholarship.

I had fun reading this book! I like that it’s set in Florida. Not all stories featuring witches or prestigious schools need to be in New England, and I found this refreshing. Content warnings for racism, homophobia, and abusive adults, including grooming.

Toadling was born a human, but she doesn’t know much of human life. She was stolen moments after her birth by the faeries, and raised in faerieland among the water sprites, kelpies, and other fae of the river. She was loved. But when the faeries whisk her away from the only home she’s ever known, she’s asked to return to the human world and offer a blessing of protection on a young princess. Toadling agrees, but when the blessing goes awry, she’s stuck in the human world for years, centuries, until a human knight appears to upset the careful balance of her blessing.

Here’s the thing about this book: It’s best not to know too much going in, or to read too many reviews. Not necessarily to avoid spoilers (although do avoid spoilers!) but so that you can go in with an open mind and let the storytelling sweep you away. I love that Kingfisher chose to focus on the faerie of the Sleeping Beauty tale (who is too often portrayed as a villain) and I really enjoyed getting to sink into her character. She’s not vindictive, powerful, or cruel—she’s just a lost soul who wants to go home, and who is trying her best. I really enjoyed her interactions with the unconventional knight who discovers the keep behind the brambles—a poor young son, a Muslim, and a gentle soul who is curious and kind. Kingfisher balances the present action with flashbacks wonderfully, making this novella fly by. This is one of the most enjoyable subversive fairy tales I’ve read in a long time, and my only complaint is that it isn’t longer! (But then again, I always want more T. Kingfisher books and stories!)

Bonus: The audiobook, narrated by Jennifer Bloom, was excellent!