**spoiler alert** I was thankful to have Lucas. But it bothered me that having a boyfriend and being assaulted should be related, as if I, alone, was **spoiler alert** I was thankful to have Lucas. But it bothered me that having a boyfriend and being assaulted should be related, as if I, alone, was not enough. At the hospital it had never occurred to me that it was important I was dating someone; I had only been thinking of me and my body. It should have been enough to say, I did not want a stranger touching my body. It felt strange to say, I have a boyfriend, which is why I did not want Brock touching my body. What if you're assaulted and you didn't already belong to a male? Was having a boyfriend the only way to have your autonomy respected?
I understood what the woman meant, that a transaction as simple as receiving a piece of furniture from a stranger possessed an inherent threat, that any time we met someone online, we must scan for signs of assault, rape, death, etc. We knew this. But the guy did not speak this language; he just saw a desk.
First, my wiener dog was strangled in a tight knot. It alarmed me that I'd almost killed my small friend. I gingerly untangled him.
There were many subtle moments like this where I paused to look the person in the eye in an attempt to say, If only you knew how much this meant to me. A small gesture, just remembering my name, or asking if I needed a little assistance, felt like warmth on my skin when I spent most of my time being numb. The custodian of my building, Anthony, was always refilling the hot cocoa machine on the fifth floor because he knew I drank two cups in the evenings. The Korean mother who worked at Sue's Market, oval bun and tiny round glasses, would look up and smile when I came in and say, Hi, Chanel, everything okay? Haven't seen you in a few days.
And finally there was the comedy crew, who made sure I got home safely in the evenings. These were the pockets of the world where I was regrowing. They called me Chanel, not Brock Turner's victim, not Lucas's girlfriend. Just Chanel.
At parties, I measure everything. If there are no shot glasses, I use capfuls, hunched to conceal my obsessive techniques. I see people pouring and I stare. That's a free pour, I think, You can't do that, they'll say how much, how many ounces, one third or half of the cup, what kind of cup? If someone wanders to the bathroom or leaves with a guy, 1 grow tense, What do you mean she's gone, where'd she go, who'd she go with?
My advice is, if he's worried about his reputation, don't rape anyone.
On July 25, 2018, Brock's appellate attorney appeared in court before a panel of three judges to present his case that Brock had only intended to have outercourse. The Mercury News reported Justice Franklin Elia responding, I absolutely don't understand what you are talking about, which summed up everything I could say.
It brought to mind a Hafiz poem: And then, all the and thens ceased. Nothing remains to be done in the Order of time, when all is still....more
**spoiler alert** Finally got around to this one after a friend lent it to me. One I have heard a lot about but never got around to/even looked out fo**spoiler alert** Finally got around to this one after a friend lent it to me. One I have heard a lot about but never got around to/even looked out for. Really glad I read it. The premise reminded me a lot of The Memory Police by Yōko Ogawa, but in this version there is somewhat.. less blind acceptance?
I actually really enjoyed this book and felt it was a fun and clever way to demonstrate the censorship. I love to see the different ways that such an important topic is tackled! It was really engaging, especially as more people left the island. You could feel the emptiness.
The later switch to phonetic spelling reminded me a lot of those early contributors to the Oxford English Dictionary who wished to see a switch to phonetic spelling (and are now the reason we have phonetic spelling in the dictionary, even if we don’t use the phonetic version primarily).
Great book for YA but I don’t think it should be pushed off as only good for young readers. There are many ways to tackle this topic and I don’t really feel one is necessarily better than others. The more we think of this topic, the better!
**spoiler alert** 4.5 stars rounded up. Ugh wow this book. It’s hard to know just what to say. Very, very relatable. I took so many pictures of so man**spoiler alert** 4.5 stars rounded up. Ugh wow this book. It’s hard to know just what to say. Very, very relatable. I took so many pictures of so many pages that I wanted to remember. This is easily one of my new favorite books. It also did my anxiety absolutely no favors whatsoever.
So well-paced. So funny. Growing up in the catholic church (somewhat) I found a lot of the church-scenes absolutely hilarious and relatable. The cast of main characters so poignant. The emails. The voicemails. Gilda’s inner dialogue. It was all so touching and human.
Also fun fact: I currently live in the same city as the author. Pretty neat!
Quotes:
“Why am I so upset? Why do I care that Grace will never eat a cookie again, or that Rosemary doesn't know that? I don't even know these people. Why does it matter to me that this woman was not informed that her friend is dead? Why do I care? There are sadder things happening on this planet right now than old women dying after living long lives-�
“My face looks strange. Is it the mirror? It is a sort of warped, vintage mirror. Maybe it's distorting my face. My eyes look enormous, and my mouth looks so small. Was my mouth always that small in comparison to my other features? Is that really my face? Am I looking at a painting? Who is that?�
“It is one a.m. I was researching what to say in mass when I was side-tracked by an article that claims priests used to kill themselves to be with God. A notification obstructs the article on my phone. It's Eleanor. She's texted me, asking, You up? I text back Yes, and return to my article. I guess this is why Catholics teach that suicide is a sin. They were running out of priests. Another notification obstructs the article. What are you up to? Eleanor asks. I write back: Researching the order of mass. I guess heaven sounded so good to the holy men that they thought, hey, what are we waiting for? She texts again, You're what?�
�"How did these get so knotted?" I ask Sister Jude as we untangle a box full of rosaries. "Someone must have put them away carelessly," she sighs. I think it was me. I almost break the rosary in my hands as I undo a particularly tight knot. "Be careful!" she says, taking the rosary out of my hands in the same way she'd confiscate a knife from a toddler. "Breaking a rosary is bad luck. It means someone's mad at you," she explains. I have a feeling that if I broke a rosary, that person would be her.�
“Dear Grace, How were your holidays? I hope you were able to spend time with your family and enjoy the holiday season. The kids came over to my house. Cindy helped me cook. I made your apricot tarts. They were a hit, as usual. I would be lying if I said I was fully in the spirit, however. Jim's absence was really noticeable. He used to wear a hat like Santa's all day on Christmas. We put the hat on his chair at dinner. I am trying to be more grateful for what I have remaining in my life. I have my health, for example. How have you been, Grace? Have you been feeling well? We're old birds now, aren't we? Happy New Year. Love, Dz�
“My mother had a baby, and her mother had a baby, and her mother had a baby. Every woman in my family before me lived to have a baby—just so that baby could grow up to have another baby. If I don't have a baby, then all of those women reproduced just so that I could exist. I am the final product. I am the final baby.� (me)
“A band is playing. The lights are moving in sync with the music. Whenever the drum beats, all the blue lights flash on and then off The red lights flicker in sync with the bass. When the singer hit a high note, all the lights point to her. "How is everyone doing tonight!" the singer shrieks into the crowd. Amid the screaming replies, I allow myself to say out loud, "I actually haven't been feeling well lately." I look behind me and see that the room has been swarmed with people. I think about how strange it would be to see other animals do some of the things humans do. What if birds had concerts? I start to imagine a flock of hundreds of birds surrounding one little bird while it sings to them. That is what this is, when I think about it. We’re a herd of animals watching another animal make noises.�
“A couple is getting married today. The bride is blond, and she is wearing white despite something I overheard her soon-to-be mother in-law say in the hall. I am standing at the back of the church, watching the couple at the front. They are looking into each other's faces, holding each othes hands. I look around the church—at the crowd of people watching. They are all smiling up at the couple. Some of them are teary-eyed. I wonder, why do we do this? We give each other rocks and wear expensive clothing to sign papers saying we will be someone's partner until one of us dies. We involve the government. I look around the room again, at the happy faces of the people siting in the pews. They love this. They love watching these two get married. The bride and the groom are grinning at each other. Something in my mind clicks. This makes them happy. They buy expensive clothing and involve the government because it makes them happy.�
Dz, Tell Jim I saw a man who looked just like him at the drugstore last night. I screamed "Jim!" over and over. When the man finally turned around and I realized it was not Jim, I recognized what a miracle it is they haven't committed me to a seniors' home yet. I have been laughing about it all day. Love, your friend, Grace Her most recently sent email to Rosemary was for her birthday. It said: Dear Rosemary, Happy belated birthday! My memory is going, Rosie. I'm sorry I didn't email you last week. If I ever miss it again, please consider this email my forever happy birthday. I hope every birthday, and every day you have left on this earth, is so happy you can barely stand it!!!�...more
**spoiler alert** Really mixed feelings about this book. I hadn’t heard of Ina Garten really, I mean. Yes I have distantly heard of Barefoot Contessa **spoiler alert** Really mixed feelings about this book. I hadn’t heard of Ina Garten really, I mean. Yes I have distantly heard of Barefoot Contessa but I actually picked up this memoir after seeing rave reviews.
There were parts of this memoir I found very inspiring or relatable. Whether it was their attitude on living cheaply abroad, or relationship struggles, or wanting to go after what you want in your own way. I also really enjoyed some of the food/scenery descriptions. I also (despite what it may sound like later in this review) thought her relationship seemed Lovely and very sweet, it is amazing to see that two people were able to grow together for so long. Both of them in their own off-beat ways.
However this book went on a bit� too long and the pluckiness that started off entertaining started to wear on me. I don’t want to claim she hasn’t worked hard, I really feel she has. But she doesn’t seem at all aware (title aside) of how Insanely Lucky she has been or privileged. As a Gen Z in her mid-twenties I can barely fathom buying a first house (though we sure are trying) never-mind making “real estate� and “interior design� my “hobbies. That’s insanely fortunate. She doesn’t seem to realize most people’s dads aren’t mid-life crisis buying one of two houses designed by a world-famous architect that they can then get married in (another thing I stress about paying for!)
That falling in and out of insanely successful businesses and hoping the money appears (which it somehow always did!) is not a usual experience. I have never even been overseas because I simply cannot afford it. Our partners aren’t job hopping from success to success and having our bosses frontload any expense to make our long distance relationship work. And it’s great she has had such a great life but Ina, most of us CANNOT AFFORD to be ready when the luck happens. I wish!
Her writing also started to slog a bit, and was a bit repetitive at times. More than once she started to sound like that 50s housewife she apparently wasn’t trying to be. I am sure Jeffrey is lovely but you don’t Need to tell me that 30 times a chapter. She talks about re-reading her old letters at the end and sliding out a window in a barrel in college? WHERE IS THAT MEMOIR? Even her time in Paris on $5 a day is largely glossed over. Lots of glossing, lots of marriage talk, maybe not enough on the fun little day-to-day details.
Some parts of this were very sweet but ultimately tone-deaf. Even more so once the celebrity besties in the Hamptons and Paris, friends of friends and guests on her show started rolling in. I would love to have a life like Ina’s but I really am not holding my breath.
However I did enjoy her passion for food, her desire to uplift her younger employees, and her stubbornness. Her recipes did seem good too, might have to pick up one of those cookbooks (or find the recipes online).
SPOILERS
“Here are my plans/dreams. We go to Paris once, at least, in the next five years. We won't have much money but that will be all the fun. Maybe we could go camping. But instead of touring the Louvre, etc., I'd like to get up at 4 a.m. and walk the streets...down the Champs de L'Esse [his spelling!] while the sun comes up... around the markets... along the Seine. That's us...not the fancy restaurants, etc.�
“…grapes in the middle, put the cheeses back around the grapes, then a few groupings of strawberries and crackers, and then stop yourself." Anna taught me that often, "less is more," and quality is everything.�
“As a finishing touch, I added an old-fashioned screen door to the entrance-the sound of that door slamming shut was the essence of summer, of vacations and carefree times, a signal to relax, indulge, and eat!�
“Everywhere I went there were inspirations the warm goat cheese salad from Café Varenne and the blue cheese soufflé I loved at Le Récamier. My goal was to make these dishes accessible for Americans at home with American ingredients. We don't have the classic French potiron squash, but I found the combination of canned pumpkin and fresh butternut squash made the perfect classic soupe au potiron-without the potiron! I loved writing this cookbook because I was living it!�...more
Read the book in almost exactly 3 hours (thanks Libby!)
It went much, much faster than I expected. Especially with how dense the text/topics could be.Read the book in almost exactly 3 hours (thanks Libby!)
It went much, much faster than I expected. Especially with how dense the text/topics could be. Maybe it helped that I saw the movie a few years ago? A movie my partner and I actually only watched because my best friend said I “had to� and I “couldn’t look up anything about it first�. Which. By the way. Definitely the best way to watch it, what the hell.
But anyway recently I have been into similar thrillers and saw this mentioned a few times. I never intended to read this (or watch the movie again for that matter) but now it seems I will be doing both. This was so good and engaging!!! The repetition chapter towards the end?! SO Well Done. Probably didn’t hurt that I read this into the night.
I really loved how this unspooled and yeah definitely going to need to sit through that movie again for comparison purposes. I haven’t seen it since around when it came out I think.
I also got this weird intense deja vu around the throwing away cups scene. I don’t know why. Maybe from the movie? I guess? But it felt like I had read it before and I definitely haven’t. Might have been similar to a scene in another book I have read OR I did read a lot of explanation articles after watching the movie so maybe it was quoted in there. Either way only added to the eeriness for me, for sure.
SPOILERS
“He never let me finish my story. I never kissed Doug after our lesson. Jake assumed. He assumed I kissed Doug. But a kiss needs two people who want to kiss, or it's something else. Here's what really happened. I went back to the car that time. I leaned in the window and opened my hand, revealing the tiny wrinkled candy wrapper, the one Doug gave me. I uncrumpled it and read it:
My heart, my heart alone with its lapping waves of song, longs to touch this green world of the sunny day. Hello!�
"It seems like more people, if not depressed, are unhappy these days. Would you agree?" "I'm not sure I'd say that. It does seem like there's more opportunity to reflect on sadness and feelings of inadequacy, and also a pressure to be happy all the time. Which is impossible."
“I always thought I would light that candle one day. I never did. The more time passed, the harder it became to light. Whenever I thought an occasion might be special enough to burn the candle, it felt like I was settling. So I would wait for a better occasion. It's still there, unlit, on top of a bookcase. There was never an occasion special enough. How could that be?�...more
Its hard to articulate why this is 3 stars. I think it was well-done, especially the way the little bits and pieces all came together. Especially withIts hard to articulate why this is 3 stars. I think it was well-done, especially the way the little bits and pieces all came together. Especially with the finger. I enjoyed the perspectives, I enjoyed the premise. Maybe the pacing a bit too slow, a bit too drawn-out? Also the ending was fairly predictable, though I don’t think that’s an issue. The pre-ending less so. I do like how this leaves you with a lot of questions. You are left doubting the innocence that was previously stated. However we didn’t get much character development or explanation or insight into almost anything which was kind of disappointing. Eh could have used a lot of tweaking.
But the very, very ending? The last few lines. Uuuugh. So cliché. Felt like the author just didn’t know how to wrap up.
Spoilers**
A shy teenage boy who looked and dressed like Karson gave me a detailed pencil drawing of Cleo staring off blankly, eyes angled away from whoever might be looking back at her, and she carried the Thin Kid in a reversal of the famous picture of the Creature from the Black Lagoon carrying the white-bathing-suit-clad Julie Adams in his arms. Cleo's look somehow was her look. I thanked the artist, my voice quavering, and I couldn't look at the picture for long. I had to hide it in a cardboard box underneath my table before I started full-on ugly crying, and I quickly moved the Karson look-alike along.
A twitchy guy showed me a tattoo on his arm of the Thin Kid sitting in the corner of a room. It was like looking at a memory....more
**spoiler alert** This book reminded me so much of house of leaves in some aspects (see: a possible reference I picked out in the quotes below). The l**spoiler alert** This book reminded me so much of house of leaves in some aspects (see: a possible reference I picked out in the quotes below). The labyrinth, the articles, the clues. But ultimately I feel this fell a little bit short. A little too much in Eve’s head and not all the loose ends got tied up. Very short climax. The Very ending was gut wrenching for sure however. Definitely hearing it kicked off on reddit was� unsurprising. It could have been more fleshed out for sure.
Like Charlie and Eve seem to have minimal relationship outside of Charlie being pretty annoyed with her or vice versa. Also she shows up at the house and its�. Boarded up? Is there no record of the down payment or realtor or anything? I guess thats possible in a world that can accommodate erasing a person/potential multiple dimensions but� yeah. Hmmm. Also what do the neighbors have to do with it? Felt like they sort of got dropped.
Just could have used more, but overall an engaging read.
Too many unanswered questions and dropped/unresolved hints and secrets. But I would definitely read a sequel if more questions got answered. Like Jenny DEFINITELY knew what was up right? She was onto something? What happened to that? Did Paige know something too and try to help, or did she just want to torture Eve too. What was Thomas� backstory? What did he get out of this? The old man??? The babysitter?
Spoilers-
Shrugging off his hand, Paige faced a window. She stared into the cold night, the blasts of wind kicking up furries of snow into swirling blurs. "Minnesota." The word flicked off her tongue like she considered it an obscenity. "You know winters there get to forty below, right?"
"Mm-hm," said Thomas, mouth full of food. "Minnesota." "That's a long way," said Charlie. Thomas nodded. "I was offered a professorship in Duluth." "Oh?" Charlie said. "I have some family out there. What school?" "Denman," Thomas said. "Huh, not familiar." Charlie took another bite. "I'm sure it's a great university, though." "It's a community college," Paige interjected, a hint of resentment in her voice. "Not a university." Thomas clicked his tongue and went back to eating. [As a Duluthian, this school doesn’t exist and idk if this is intentional by the author or not]
But then, he made the mistake of telling the story in front of Charlie Bastion. At the crescendo, right on cue, he pulled out the photo and held it up for all to see. Charlie, barely looking up from her meal, said, "That's a great horned owl.�
He deflated. His drunken face filled with a slow realization as he sank back into his chair, peering down at the photo on his lap. He looked like a little kid who'd just learned the truth about old Saint Nick. Eve felt bad for him, but Charlie, as usual, didn't care.
USER: Navidson_ 27 [house of leaves reference]
USER: Evergreen12 [Just a spooky coincidence because this is my lucky # and my animal crossing island name]
Dozens in all, but one stood out. It featured the man with the handlebar mustache, but he looked younger in this one, late twenties perhaps. And he had a full head of hair, black and tangled, long enough to reach his shoulders. He was perched behind a drum kit, pounding away, playing to a half-empty dive bar. Neon lights. Hazy smoke. In the foreground, slightly out of focus, was a guitarist with neck tattoos and a full beard belting into a microphone. A lot of passion packed into a single frame. Eve could almost smell the sweat, the booze, the pot.
Post Title: My partner went missing, but everyone is telling me she never existed to begin with. Body: I never thought I'd be posting on a site like this, but right now I don't know where else to turn. I've exhausted all other avenues: family, police, the fucking FBI� everything. On Idate redacted] I returned home to [address redacted] and found our recently purchased property looking as though it had been abandoned for decades. Boarded up. Completely falling apart. My partner, [name redacted], was gone. Only our dog remained,
OLD MAN WITH THE SCAR HAS LIVED IN THE CABIN FOR CENTURIES AND GOES BY MANY DIFFERENT NAMES...more
Emily Henry books go down like a glass of water. So easy to read and almost always pull me out of a slump. Being in an 8+ year relationship myself, I Emily Henry books go down like a glass of water. So easy to read and almost always pull me out of a slump. Being in an 8+ year relationship myself, I found these characters pretty relatable in terms of knowing someone like that. It was also a scary window into what a breakup might look like! While I wish there had been a little more focus on the friends/present I really liked how this book was structured overall. She is so good at weaving a relationship. I also wish there had been more emphasis on the discord. Not saved for the last hundred or so pages and resolved so quickly. But maybe that’s just a me thing, it wasn’t necessarily the focus of the book. I also wish the friends had been a tad more fleshed out.
This book had me laughing out loud multiple times though (as all her books do!) and I was really invested in the outcome. I also really liked her last interaction with her parents, especially in juxtaposition with her relationship with Hank and Gloria.
SPOILERS
She rocks me back and forth, cooing, "You're heeeeere." "I'm heeeeere!" I say.
"Sometimes I still can't believe you're a farmer," I say. "I mean, it's so cool, don't get me wrong. I just really did think you'd have art in the Met someday." She shrugs. "It could still happen. Life's long." That makes me snort with laughter. "I don't think anyone says that." "Maybe not," she says, "but if they were truly present, maybe they would."
“…My parents would go to Florida with my aunties and uncles all the time, and then they'd make us look through one hundred separate pictures of them inside a Margaritaville."
"You're playing dirty," I say. "Me?" he replies. "You just gave me a lap dance." "I did not," I say, "and I will never." "Doesn't Wyn's hair look sexy like this?" he parrots in a breathy voice. "I didn't say sexy. When did I say sexy?" "You did the voice. I knew what you meant." I roll my eyes. "I'm playing my part." "What part is that? Marilyn Monroe singing 'Happy birthday, Mr. President'?"
"You all right there, Harriet?" Wyn asks in his own husky equivalent of the happy-birthday-Mr.-President voice.
I start toward them, but Wyn catches my wrist. "I like the bowl," he says. "She showed me a picture. I thought it was beautiful."
"This one." He's staring at the smaller of the vases, streaked with shades of green, blue, purple, and brown, a horizon of earthy colors. My heart squeezes. "That one's called Hank." He looks up, face open, with the expression that used to make me think of quicksand, a face that could pull you in and never let you go. "You named it?" he says. "After my dad?" "Isn't that humiliating?" I try to pull my phone away. He doesn't let go. "Why would it be humiliating?" "Because I'm not Michelangelo," I say. "My vases don't need names." He holds the phone up. "This one needs a fucking name, and that name is Hank." I reach for it again, but he yanks it out of reach, goes back to staring at the screen, creases rising from the insides of his brows. Quietly, he says, "It looks like him." "You don't have to say that, Wyn," I reply. "It's a vase, by an amateur.�
Wyn takes hold of the pink thing and lifts it, spreading it out so the hot-pink bra cups jut from his chest. Above us, Cleo and Kimmy are shrieking now. "This," Wyn says, "is exactly why I hate getting clothes as presents. Nothing ever fits." "At least it's your color," I say. He tuts, laughing, and shakes his head. "Thanks, Kim." Kimmy hurls herself forward, squawking something through her guffaws, but Cleo yanks her back against the bench. "Excuse me, Wyn." I pull the tiny bra out of his hands, holding it in front of me. "In which universe does this fit on Kimmy's boobs?" He gapes, looks up at Cleo and Kimmy, who are still falling all over each other in fits of laughter, then back at me. "Damn," he says. "Didn't see that one coming."
The silence leaves too much room for questions, for memories to vine around me, hold me captive....more
**spoiler alert** Mixed feelings here. I loved the Tithe series as a teenager and turns out I have really enjoyed books of hers I didn’t know she had **spoiler alert** Mixed feelings here. I loved the Tithe series as a teenager and turns out I have really enjoyed books of hers I didn’t know she had written! I was obviously excited about an adult debut from her. However as for many others this did fall a bit short for me in some areas. I did really enjoy her descriptive writing, and I actually did enjoy the main characters for the most part, though I think they could’ve been more fleshed out. I also did struggle to keep track of all the side characters. The world building was interesting but needed more refinement. I struggled when trying to explain this book to my boyfriend, I had hoped it would become clearer as I finished the book but not so.
I feel like I stuck with this one despite rhe extremely slow start for two reasons. One, I found Charlie and also her introduction to con very interesting. Two, I was just intrigued enough by Vince to stick with it. I liked their romance but I agree with other readers that it since exactly stick out. All we really got was a recap of their romance that mainly happened before the book started (and somewhat out of convenience?), Charlie realizing her feelings are stronger than expected, and a recap from each POV about their first date so to speak. And some faded to black sex scenes. No pizzazz. I know this is apparently going to be a duology but the very ending was soooo lackluster and disappointing.
I did enjoy the second half of the book I will say. It was intriguing enough for me to stay up and finish it. But Holly is gonna have to work haaaaard to redeem this in book 2, if she is able to.
Also the whole Rand/Charlie chapters were very interesting to read, felt researched (at least to this layman) and gave me some ideas to flesh out my brand new d&d characters so that was nice.
My heart. I have wanted to hear Haymitch’s story since I first read the books in fifth grade, and again when the first movie came out a couple of yearMy heart. I have wanted to hear Haymitch’s story since I first read the books in fifth grade, and again when the first movie came out a couple of years later. She certainly, CERTAINLY, delivered. Oh my God.
The only thing that slightlyyyy didn’t hold up for me was the epilogue but honestly even then.
I will read any future Hunger Games book. No doubt. ...more
I didn’t watch the Disney Tinkerbell movies until I was a teenager/young adult (they mostly came out a**spoiler alert** AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
I didn’t watch the Disney Tinkerbell movies until I was a teenager/young adult (they mostly came out after I was a kid and I threw them on one day for shits and giggles and� yeah they sucked me in). But I did see Peter Pan (live action first and then animated) as a kid, of course, and I read and owned the Disney Fairies illustration infused “chapter books� as a kid and loved those. All of this to say I have loved Pixie Hollow for a long time and teen/young adult me TOTALLY clocked the tension between the Queen and the Lord of Winter in the movies. I 100% remember looking at fanfiction for the first time in a while, and scouring internet forums, for answers with little to no luck.
So when I heard about this book earlier this year?! Instant purchase. It was sold out at all but one store in my area (30 mins away, and their last copy). I didn’t get a chance to really sit and read it until now but I LOVED IT.
Let me get my (minimal) complaints out of the way first. Sometimes I wanted a little more creativity from the author re:the fairy realm. Bedsheets? Badminton rackets? I mean� come on. Tinkerbell has an entire arc about lost things from the human world and you want me to believe soon-to-be Queen Clarion has a fitted sheet and plays badminton? Also I really, really wanted an epilogue a-la (SUNRISE ON THE REAPING SPOILER) Haymitch talking about Katniss and Peeta. Although I didn’t actually like that epilogue that much, I do think it would have been fun to hear about Clarion and Milori reuniting for that tension filled dance when Tink finds her (random) twin and breaks all the rules to reunite the realms. Also I wish we had heard an eensy bit more from the ministers of the seasons.
Also not a complaint but I would kill for a book from Milori’s POV.
Okay onto what I loved. THE TENSION. THE YEARNING. THE SLOW BURN ROMANCE (needed more!!!!) the descriptions of the food and the smells and the scenery felt very true to the first Pixie Hollow books I read which was nice. Also Petra being her friend?! Ahhhh!!!!! And the LESBIANS. YES. Also also also the way the author totally tied in the Milori lore we see in the movies with the wings and the owl!!!!! Uuuuugh need more. I loved these two SO MUCH. And the Keeper!!! It felt so natural and totally made sense. I even got pulled in by the Nightmare threat WAY more than I thought I would! Even Elvina got me in the end. I loved her last few descriptions.
This book was STRESSFUL. But so good!! I really enjoyed it, it was an easy read. Sometimes just wish she had gon**spoiler alert** 3.5 stars rounded up
This book was STRESSFUL. But so good!! I really enjoyed it, it was an easy read. Sometimes just wish she had gone more into depth but I definitely enjoyed watching each love blossom and leas up to the present.
Sometimes the dialogue was a little amateurish. So were the descriptions and also a little repetitive at times. I wish she had gone a little deeper into the characters. But also I really loved how she described how people change and how love can look different than what you expect. She is kind of messy and again I feel like a lot is resolved very quickly and the second half feels a bit rushed. In reality this is probably a three star book but I am really grateful to be out of the reading slump I was in.
Her writing has really evolved since this book but I still felt this was worth the read.
"Sometimes when I think about what I wore to prom, I wonder why you and Olive didn't try to stop me. Remember I had those temporary butterfly tattoos all over my body?" He laughs. "Honestly, I thought that was hot as hell. Remember, I was eighteen.�
"Breakfast for lunch," I say. "Very charming." "What can I say? I'm a charming guy. I also, while I was out, got you a twelve-pack of Diet Coke because I know Emma Lerner, and Emma Lerner needs a steady supply of Diet Coke in the house." My name is not Emma Lerner and I don't drink Diet Coke anymore and I'm not sure how to respond to any of it, so I don't.
"I miss you, too," I say, and then —I don't know what possesses me —before I know it, I have bent down and kissed him. He kisses me back but then pulls away. I wonder if it's because he can tell I've kissed someone else. "Sorry," I say. "Force of habit." "It's OK," he says. "How were the cats this morning?" I ask. I love talking to Sam about our cats. I love inventing silly names for them and making up stories about what they do when we re not around. "Homer slept in the bathtub," Sam says. Before I had a cat, before I loved those two little furballs, I would have thought someone saying, "Homer slept in the bathtub," was boring enough to put me to sleep. But now it's as fascinating as if you'd told me he'd landed on Mars. "He wasn't under the piano?" Sam shakes his head. "Nope, he won't leave the bathroom. When I tried to take a shower this morning, I had to pick him up and lock him out of the room." I should be back in that house. I should be with Sam and Mozart and Homer. I don't know why Homer's in the bathtub or what it means. But I know it wouldn't happen if I was there....more
Its always extremely hard to rate memoirs, especially about such intense and difficult topics to look back on. I really appreciated Elena’s candor thrIts always extremely hard to rate memoirs, especially about such intense and difficult topics to look back on. I really appreciated Elena’s candor throughout the book, especially during multiple moments that maybe didn’t place her in the best light. There were times I wish she went a little deeper, or explained a little more just about day to day life. But overall I found this an engaging and thoughtful read. (If not difficult. Both for the subject matter, as well as my own personal aversion to medical/hospital/healthcare necessities that are included in this book/in general. A lot of scenes were hard for me to get through for that reason.)
Quote:
“I also got to know my brother-in-law, Clint, better. He felt more like my sibling sometimes than Valerie. He'd kick me under the table. Then I'd elbow him. Then he'd elbow me. Then I'd whack him on the arm. "Stop it! Just stop it, you two!" Valerie would say. "I swear, it's like I've got three kids!" "Yeah, Elena, show some maturity!" Clint would say with wide, solemn eyes� meanwhile kicking me under the table again. I loved it. I loved being home with my family. But I couldn't stay. Because I couldn't eat.�...more
**spoiler alert** Great book to finish the year off with!! Unexpected, enchanting, and interesting. I wish the ending had been a little sharper and so**spoiler alert** Great book to finish the year off with!! Unexpected, enchanting, and interesting. I wish the ending had been a little sharper and some parts a little shorter, but otherwise it was excellent.
A really enjoyable NYE book for someone going into 2025, born in 1999 about a woman born in 1899 (though she claims 1900) heading into 1985. I enjoyed how realistic a lot of her introspection was, and I enjoyed the conversations she had along the way. I will be thinking about this one for some time. I was relieved she didn’t die at the end or something else horribly cliche. The passage of midnight really only marked (and inferred) by the voicemail light on her machine.
“When I turn, I am facing the face of a woman about Johnny’s age, dark hair with some stately gray at the temples. Her expression says she’s overheard our exchange, witnessed my failure, and I can guess what she’s thinking: I hope I die before I’m old and pathetic. Would that I had, madam! Would that I had.�
“That star,� I say, “comes from a tattoo that Mr. R. H. Macy himself got at the age of fifteen. Back when he was a sailor. He worked on a whaling ship out of Nantucket, the Emily Morgan.�
“�-was inked on the skin of a teenaged Quaker the same year that Queen Victoria took the throne? I’ve known it for more than a half a century, and I’m still not sure what to do with it myself.�
“The message light flashes on, a red pulse on the wall behind it. Somewhere in the building a party is breaking up; from the stairwell I hear the drunken talk and stumbling steps of those who’ve given up on the ancient elevator. We drift—all of us—farther from the fraught spasm of midnight, settling into the fog of another year.� ...more
**spoiler alert** Some mixed feelings on this one. Parts of it were my favorite she has done, but maybe she was overreaching. I really enjoyed actuall**spoiler alert** Some mixed feelings on this one. Parts of it were my favorite she has done, but maybe she was overreaching. I really enjoyed actually Seeing the book the characters were working on. I found Margaret really interesting and I liked listening about her family. I wish Emily had gone MORE in depth on that. I enjoyed the multiple strained family relationships that felt very real. The friends didn’t feature as much in this book which I think is for the best because they felt more realistic. I actually really liked how much more natural/organic this relationship felt. But honestly I was too intrigued by all of the other things happening in this book to care much about the sexual tension and it felt like soooo many chapters were dedicated to that. I routinely found myself skimming these sections because I just didn’t really care. This is a book that would have benefited from being close-door just because the actual plot-lines were WAY more interesting. Her home life? Her family? Her house? Margaret’s crafting? Cecil? These details were SO good.
The ending also felt really rushed. She spends this whole book building up to the writing of the biography, Alice’s relationship with her mother and her late father, Hayden’s strained relationship with HIS family and now his dynamics with Margaret. Jodi and Margaret, and Jodi softening up to Alice. And like it felt like there was a lot of loose ends or it kind of just fizzled out. I wanted more.
Still I enjoyed the book overall and as always an easy read. I feel like Emily struck some gold with the biography but defaulted a little too much to her repeat formula. Which I get because obviously it works for her. Couple with same jobs, push pull, sexual tension, happily ever after. I get it! She does it well. She can write these tropey romances because she does SO well at building up the people beneath the tropes. But in this case it was kind of disappointing because all that character work and history kind of got shoved aside to default to the formula and now I got a taste for more.
I loved the Nicollett thread we got to follow. I loved the detective work. I loved the storm. I loved the visit home and the chickens and the sleeping outside. I loved the mosaics. More of this please Emily.
Quotes
I slow my pace, but surprisingly, he pauses halfway up the first set of steps when he realizes I'm behind him. Not only does he pause, he actually turns toward me and makes eye contact. Huge progress for us. Friendship bracelets incoming, surely.
"It was years ago now," he says. "But honestly, it was the last serious relationship I was in." "Really?" I say. His head cocks to the left. "I find it hard to believe that's surprising." "Well, it's even harder picturing you casually dating," I say. "I don't, much," he says. "Just feels like work." "Do you get lonely?" I meant it in the most innocent way possible, but as soon as it sneaks out, I tingle with embarrassment. But he just studies me seriously, like it's a perfectly normal thing to ask someone you very clearly want to sleep with. "Sometimes I..." He hesitates. "You can tell me," I say, almost a whisper. His jaw muscles leap. "Sometimes I just miss this. Being close to someone. Being touched. Not just sex, I mean."
**spoiler alert** Okay I see why everyone likes this book so much. Not that her other characters are unrealistic or vapid but these two have such dept**spoiler alert** Okay I see why everyone likes this book so much. Not that her other characters are unrealistic or vapid but these two have such depth and rough edges to them and manage to create something so magical and fulfilling. I loved these characters, I loved their approach to life, I loved that their storylines didn’t perfectly revolve around each other!!! It was so good. I was on the edge of my seat.
Also she mentioned the city I grew up in twice. So that was cool.
“I imagined Duluth was affordable. Mom would never visit me there, but we hadn’t done much visiting this past year anyway, apart from my three-day trip home for Christmas. She’d dragged me to four yoga classes, three crowded juice bars, and a Nutcracker performance starring some kid I didn’t know, like if we were alone for even a second, the topic of Dad would arise and we’d burst into flames.�
“At home, Mom and Dad’s yard had backed up to another family’s, one with three young kids. As soon as they moved in, Dad had planted a grove of evergreens along the fence to create some privacy, but he’d always loved that on late summer nights, as we sat around the firepit, we’d hear the screams and giggles of the kids playing tag, or jumping on the trampoline, or lying in a tent behind their house. Dad loved his space, but he also always said he liked to be reminded that there were other people out there, living their lives. People who didn’t know him or care to.�
“LIFE IS LIKE A BOX OF CHOCOLATES. YOU REALLY DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU’RE EATING AND THE CHOCOLATE MAP IN THE LID IS FUCKING ALWAYS WRONG.�
� Plan B: Move to Duluth �
“He let out a humorless laugh. “Because you hated me!� he blurted. “I’d come late to class so I could choose my seat based on where you sat, and I’d rush out afterward so I could walk with you, ask to borrow pens every day for a week, fucking drop books Three Stooges–style when you hung back so it would just be the two of us, and you’d never even look at me! Even when we were workshopping your stories and I was talking right to you, you wouldn’t look at me. I could never figure out what I’d done, and then I saw you at that party, and you were finally looking at me and—that’s my point! I’m an idiot when it comes to you!�
“January, you are twenty-eight, and today I am your father.� ...more
**spoiler alert** At first I worried it felt a little too close to book lovers, which I just read about a week ago. But luckily it definitely veered i**spoiler alert** At first I worried it felt a little too close to book lovers, which I just read about a week ago. But luckily it definitely veered into its own path. Funny, engaging, and real. I was rooting for these main characters! Everyone felt so fleshed out and I really fell in love with the town. I also grew up in Minnesota so I am pretty familiar with Michigan which was fun.
(Just disappointed we didn’t get to see her dad’s response.)...more
WHY WAS THIS BOOK SO GOOD!!!!! Once it kicked off I couldn’t stop thinking about it or put it down. Seriously. I loved these characters so much. I alwWHY WAS THIS BOOK SO GOOD!!!!! Once it kicked off I couldn’t stop thinking about it or put it down. Seriously. I loved these characters so much. I always say I don’t like mystery novels but what I mean is I don’t like mystery novels who don’t put in THIS level of effort. I felt it was masterful splitting of POVs, storylines, and timelines. (Not easy). I felt the characters were well-developed and I will be thinking about Tracy, Barbara, Alice, Vic, T.J., and especially Jesse and Louise for a LONG time. I got a migraine mid-read and I was so pissed because I didn’t want to stop. I was in the last 6 or so chapters. I also couldn’t stop thinking about it during that time, trying to put clues together. Really can’t recommend this book enough. The setting and history was also incredibly thought out and worked SO WELL!!! I feel like people will have issues with the ending being “realistic� and I did too- at first. In reality things of *that nature* not necessarily that specific thing did/do happen. People are variable.
As an aside when it came to Sluiter it did remind me of the book The Stranger in the Woods by Michael Finkel which us a biography about the “last true hermit� Christopher Knight (a problematic book in its own right). She doesn’t mention it in her acknowledgements but the way he survived reminds me of actions Knight took a LOT. However, please note that Knight committed no *violent* crimes.
SPOILERS - QUOTES
“…or her loyalty, her devotion to anyone who showed her even a modicum of interest.�
�"Sixty-five percent of people," said Calvin, "are less than twenty feet from a trail when they first begin to feel disoriented."�
�"The food," said Barbara, unswervingly. "I like being able to eat as much as I want."
The next line in her script read: That's interesting. Mine is being in nature. But Barbara's reply was so heartfelt, and mirrored her own emotions so precisely, that Tracy said, "Me too."�
“At a certain point Alice realized neither she nor Mrs. Van Laar had said a word for the better part of an hour, and no one else seemed to notice or mind, and she had the sudden realization that she was a consumable good being evaluated for purchase by the two men at the table, with Delphine as auctioneer. That the less she said, the better. The notion that some decision had been made already on her behalf began to settle onto her shoulders toward the end of the meal.�
“She was afraid to use the word, to even think it, but sometimes Tracy felt like she was falling in love with Barbara Van Laar. She was fascinated by the details of Barbara's face and body, her eyes-long-lashed and perennially sleepy-and the shape of her strong legs, and the nails she bit down to nothing, and the very light hair of her forearms and thighs, which looked like spun gold in the sunlight, and which emphasized the artificial black of her hair. If she caught Tracy staring which she must have she said nothing, only smiled vaguely in her direction, as accustomed to being the recipient of such gazes. More important: Barbara was the first friend she'd ever had who seemed to like Tracy as much as Tracy liked her.�
“She took it into her hands knowing without a doubt that she would keep it in her trunk for the rest of the session, a sort of holy relic, sanctified by Lowell Cargill's touch.�
“Sluiter moved from unoccupied cabin to unoccupied cabin, stealing canned goods and other provisions left behind by summer people;� (this reminded me of Christopher Knight. I think they were even ultimately caught in extremely similar ways)
His earnest face, beautifully sculpted, moving in agitated ways: it was perhaps the most erotic thing that Tracy, at twelve, had ever witnessed.
“Rich people, thought Judy-she thought this then, and she thinks it now-generally become most enraged when they sense they're about to be held accountable for their wrongs.�
�"What's your name, darling?" "Judyta," says Judy. Not Investigator Luptack. Not Judy. Not Joo-DEE-tah, as most Americans say when forced to pronounce her given name. Instead she pronounces it just as her mother does—Yoo-DIT-ah—and the Italian woman sighs, as if hearing a poem, and tells her it's beautiful.�
“She turns up the radio as loud as she can take it. Van McCoy commands her to Hustle. Sleepily, she tries to comply. Judy wakes up with a jolt. It's full dark. She's still on Route 29. Her hands are in her lap. The car is turned off. She's still alive. But apparently, she pulled to the side of the road and fell asleep, without having any memory of doing so. Without locking her doors. A sudden rush of adrenaline and fear. Imagine, thinks Judy—imagine if she hadn't pulled over.�
“It was only after he left that she saw Lowell, across the room, wearing the type of absurd broad-collared polyester suit that the boys brought for dances and that still, despite everything, made her heart speed up. He stood still as a statue against the opposite wall. He was looking at a couple in the center of the room: Barbara Van Laar and her partner. And on his face was an expression of pain.�
The silence between them persisted awhile, until Tracy heard Walter sniff loudly. once was crying, she realized. "He's amazing," said Walter. "Isn't he.�
�"Is there a reason you don't want to tell me what you told your parents?" asks Judy. "I don't want to get them in trouble," he says. "Your parents?" "My friends." There is pride in his voice as he says it. This is a boy, Judy understands, who doesn't have many of those. "Who are your friends, Christopher?" "Barbara and Tracy," he says, so quietly she isn't certain she heard him right. "Barbara and Tracy?" He nods.�
“Louise nods. It's painful to hear, but it's true. When, Louise wonders, did Jesse become the person in front of her? In her mind she sees the version of her brother who, when tired, used to drape his small body onto hers, place two of his own fingers into his mouth. Time, she thinks, moves differently in Shattuck from how it does at the Preserve. "And also," says Jesse, "You should get a different job." "Like what?". "I don't know, Lou. You're really smart. You can do anything you want. You could go back to Union." "On whose dollar?" says Louise. "I dunno. Borrow it from a bank. Isn't that what they do?" It sounds exhausting. She feels as if she's at the base of a mountain, looking up. But she's climbed mountains before. She's run up mountains, even.�
“She'll see her father again at his wedding to Donna Romano, and at holidays where, for each of the three years afterward, a new baby half-sibling will appear. She will make conversation. She'll be polite. But they won't be her family, not anymore. The only family she has left stands beside her. "Mom," says Tracy. "Have you ever heard of punk music?" "No," says her mother. "Will you tell me about it?"� ...more
I was a little unsure at first- scared of another millennial manic pixie dream girl meets fanfic bad boLiterally what is NOT to love about this book?
I was a little unsure at first- scared of another millennial manic pixie dream girl meets fanfic bad boy. But this book isn’t that at all and I couldn’t put it down!! Sighed audibly at least 3 times and laughed out loud. I need more!!! ...more
Loading...
