I’ll admit: I’ve never been AI’s biggest fan in general. The ethics always seemed murky, and the risks are too unsettling. But as a certified Wendy XuI’ll admit: I’ve never been AI’s biggest fan in general. The ethics always seemed murky, and the risks are too unsettling. But as a certified Wendy Xu devotee, I’d follow her art anywhere, and The Infinity Particle’s premise—a young inventor falling for a lifelike humanoid was just intriguing enough to pull me in.
And what a visual feast it is! Xu’s illustrations, as always, are stunning and her signature style shines through every panel. The soft blue-pink palette gives the story warmth, while her expressive characters and thoughtful paneling make every interaction feel as tangible as the pages turn. At its core, The Infinity Particle is more than just another AI morality tale. It’s a deeply human story about trauma, healing, and breaking cycles.
Clem, a clone raised to fulfill her mother’s unrealized dreams, and Kye, an AI created to replace a lost son, share a bond rooted in their shared experiences of emotional abuse, in turn, making their romance warm and heartfelt. Even so, what makes it truly binding is how they help each other grow beyond their pasts. The ethical conflicts are thought-provoking, yet the story never loses its warmth or hopeful tone.
In the final reckoning, this book isn’t without flaws. Sure, a plot thread or two could’ve used more breathing room, but that’s minor griping. To its credit, they don’t detract from the overall experience. In the end, The Infinity Particle succeeds because it prioritizes emotional truth over heavy-handed sci-fi tropes.
Strip away the tech and you'll find a cozy, emotionally rich sci-fi graphic novel that uses its futuristic setting to explore timeless themes of love and self-determination. It won me over, skepticism and all. Maybe that’s Xu’s real magic trick... and maybe that’s the highest praise I can give....more
Wendy Cope’s The Orange and Other Poems is a collection that finds beauty in simplicity, though it leaves a mixed impression as I felt some pieces tooWendy Cope’s The Orange and Other Poems is a collection that finds beauty in simplicity, though it leaves a mixed impression as I felt some pieces too simple � as if they didn’t quite reach the depth or polish I was hoping for.
But then there’s The Orange, the kind of poem that makes you pause and appreciate the quiet joy in ordinary moments. It’s so deceptively straightforward, yet it lingers in a way that makes you want to read it again.
Clearly, Cope has a knack for blending wit with sincerity, and when it works, it really works. Pieces like Being Boring and Men Talking stand out—sharp, relatable, and full of quiet truth. But not every poem hits the same mark. Some felt a little too slight, like fleeting thoughts that didn’t fully blossom. Still, there’s something undeniably charming about Cope’s voice. Even when a poem didn’t fully grab me, I appreciated her ability to find meaning in the everyday.
Nevertheless, the best poems here are strong enough to make the book worthwhile; perfect for readers who appreciate poetry that’s accessible, thoughtful, and occasionally profound —just don’t expect every page to dazzle....more
I can definitely understand why this book receives so much praise, but I think the love seen surrounding it raised my expectations so high that, upon I can definitely understand why this book receives so much praise, but I think the love seen surrounding it raised my expectations so high that, upon reading, I found it to be just okay.
Given the short pages of the book, I think the author did great in presenting a cute yet heartfelt story. The characters are just full of warming people who care for one another, and it was quite fun despite the heavy background.
With that being said: I often find that shorter stories can be highly effective, but in this case, I feel that the brevity may not do justice to the depth of Seth and Charlotte's story. While a concise narrative can be powerful, there is a sense that the author could have explored these characters further. For once, I wish there is more to the story that would make it profound.
Also, I may be nitpicking, but the side love story between their friends felt a bit too convenient. While I’m not saying it’s unrealistic, in the context of a short story, everything seemed to fall into place a little too easily. That’s why finishing this book left me feeling a bit unsatisfied—if it were a full-length story, I’m sure I’d enjoy both stories much more
Nevertheless, I don't think this is a bad read. Since I am currently in a slump and craving for some romance in the mix, this book definitely helped fill that need!...more
Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s Notes on Grief is a deeply personal and poignant exploration of loss, written in the wake of her father’s passing. The bookChimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s Notes on Grief is a deeply personal and poignant exploration of loss, written in the wake of her father’s passing. The book, which originated as an essay in The New Yorker, captures the raw, visceral nature of grief with striking sensory language. Through fragmented reflections, she paints a vivid portrait of her father—a man of quiet dignity, humor, and intellect—whose absence leaves a void that reverberates throughout the narrative.
Adichie’s writing style in this work departs from her typically measured prose, adopting a more lyrical and vulnerable tone that mirrors the fragility and chaos of grief. While this approach effectively conveys the rawness of her emotions, it may not resonate equally with all readers. Many of the reasons why is because this book lacks a strong temporal connection, events, or plot, which, combined with its fragmented, diary-like structure, can make it feel less like a cohesive story and more like a collection of personal reflections.
Though I was initially drawn in, I eventually became jaded with the story as I struggled to see its broader literary value. While I don’t wish to diminish the pain, grief, and sadness it portrays, the deeply personal nature of Adichie’s reflections may limit its relatability. It succeeds as a memoir, perhaps meaningful to share with close circles, but its appeal may not extend to a wider audience. The book is based on diary entries she discovered and later published, which adds to its intimate yet disjointed quality. Ergo, why some may find the lack of a linear narrative challenging, as the work prioritizes emotional authenticity over traditional storytelling.
Ultimately, this book is a moving and intimate work that transcends its brevity to offer a powerful meditation on loss. Adichie’s ability to articulate the physical and emotional toll of grief is both haunting and illuminating, making the book a valuable read for anyone grappling with similar experiences. While it may not resonate with everyone, it stands as a heartfelt tribute to her father and a poignant reminder of the deeply personal nature of mourning....more
Kappa is a profound and unsettling work that serves as both a biting satire of human society and a personal reflection on the author’s struggles with Kappa is a profound and unsettling work that serves as both a biting satire of human society and a personal reflection on the author’s struggles with mental illness and existential despair. As my first encounter with Akutagawa’s writing, I was struck by the complexity and darkness of the narrative, which is far from a straightforward fantasy. Instead, it is a layered exploration of societal contradictions, human nature, and the author’s disillusionment with the world. Written in the final months of Akutagawa’s life, Kappa carries the weight of his impending suicide, making it a haunting and introspective read.
The story is narrated by “Patient No. 23,� a man confined to a psychiatric hospital, who recounts his accidental journey into the land of the Kappa—a mythical creature from Japanese folklore. In this strange world, the Kappa have their own culture, values, and logic, often inverting or exaggerating human societal norms. Through the protagonist’s experiences in Kappa Land, Akutagawa critiques the absurdities and contradictions of modern society, from labor exploitation to gender dynamics and moral hypocrisy. The Kappa’s world, while seemingly utopian, is far from perfect, mirroring the flaws and suffering inherent in human civilization.
What makes Kappa particularly compelling is its dual nature as both a societal critique and a self-deprecating of Akutagawa’s own psyche. The protagonist’s inability to reintegrate into human society after Kappa Land symbolizes the isolation and alienation felt by those who cannot conform to societal norms. This theme resonates deeply with Akutagawa’s own struggles, as he grappled with mental illness and a profound sense of disconnection from the changing world around him. The story’s ending, where the protagonist remains trapped in his delusions, underscores the tragic reality that those who deviate from societal expectations are often marginalized and misunderstood.
As a late work, this book is imbued with a sense of melancholy and impending doom. Akutagawa’s mental instability and preoccupation with death are palpable, especially in his contrast of the beauty of nature with the ugliness of human existence. The story’s dark humor and surreal imagery heighten its emotional impact, leaving the reader with a lingering sense of unease. For me, reading Kappa felt like peering into the mind of a man who had already made peace with his decision to end his life. The work is not just a critique of society but a meditation on the fragility of human sanity and the inevitability of death.
While Kappa is undeniably a heavy and challenging read, it is also a masterpiece of modern literature. Akutagawa’s ability to blend satire, fantasy, and psychological introspection is unparalleled, and his prose is both beautiful and haunting. However, as a first-time reader of his work, I found Kappa to be an intense and emotionally draining experience. It is not a book for the faint of heart; but for those willing to confront its dark themes, it offers a thought-provoking journey into the mind of one of Japan’s greatest literary figures.
In the end, Kappa is more than just a story about mythical creatures—it is a mirror held up to society and a window into the soul of its author. Akutagawa’s forlornness is palpable on every page, making this work a deeply moving and unforgettable read....more
Nanae Aoyama’s A Perfect Day to Be Alone is a novel that attempts to capture the quiet struggles of early adulthood but, alas falls short of leaving aNanae Aoyama’s A Perfect Day to Be Alone is a novel that attempts to capture the quiet struggles of early adulthood but, alas falls short of leaving a lasting impression.
The story follows 20-year-old Chizu as she moves to Tokyo, seeking independence while her mother works in China. With no money, she stays with Ginko; elderly relative and spends a year navigating love, heartbreak, work, and loneliness. While the premise holds promise, the execution feels lackluster and uninspired.
One of the book’s strengths lies in its seasonal structure, which mirrors Chizu’s emotional journey. The division into Spring, Summer, Autumn, and Winter provides a framework for her growth; and Aoyama’s spare, understated prose effectively conveys the melancholic atmosphere of her life in Tokyo. There are moments of deadpan humor and subtle introspection that add depth to the narrative, and the contrast between Chizu, her mother, and Ginko offers a thoughtful exploration of generational differences and societal expectations. Ginko, in particular, stands out as a character who embodies resilience and fulfillment, providing a stark contrast to Chizu’s aimlessness.
However, the novel’s flaws are hard to overlook. Writing unlikeable character can be a hit or a miss, depending on how you write your character. Chizu, as a protagonist is cynical, unmotivated, and often mean-spirited. While her flaws may make her realistic, they also make it difficult to root for her especially for a reader like me, who places a lot of importance on how a character is portrayed. That said, characters don’t necessarily have to be kind or good to be compelling; the way the story is told and the depth of their development is what play a crucial role in shaping the reader’s engagement. As for me, it is not worthwhile.
Much of the reason is that her lack of curiosity, ambition, or meaningful relationships leaves little to invest in, and the story often feels stagnant as a result. The plot itself is thin, with little happening beyond mundane daily struggles, and the pacing can feel tedious at times. Therefore, the book’s reliance on symbolism and ambiguity may appeal to some, but it often comes across as superficial � leaving too much unsaid and too little to hold onto.
Nevertheless, the novel’s exploration of loneliness and the challenge of adulthood is relatable in theory, but Chizu’s constant negativity and lack of growth is what make it hard to fully engage with her journey (perhaps a matter of preference and subjective experience). While the ending attempts to strike a hopeful note, it feels not merited as Chizu’s development throughout the story is minimal at best.
Ultimately, this book did try to find meaning in the mundane, but struggles to deliver an imperative or memorable experience. While it has moments of insight and a few well-drawn characters, its unlikable protagonist, slow pacing, and lack of plot make it a taxing read. For those who enjoy introspective, slice-of-life stories, it may offer some appeal, but unfortunately, it seems to me that this is forgettable and disappointing....more
Heavy siggggghhhhh. If you read my earlier review of the first book, you’d know how much I truly wanted to love this one. From the very start, I foundHeavy siggggghhhhh. If you read my earlier review of the first book, you’d know how much I truly wanted to love this one. From the very start, I found myself deeply invested in Ro and Freddy's story. Woefully, while I have a deep affection for them, I can’t deny that the story fell short of my expectations and this book failed to stand out on its own.
Undeniably, Freddy and Ro are one of the most tender-hearted characters I’ve encountered. They ache with longing, carry the weight of grief, and slowly discover what it means to be loved unconditionally. I completely empathize with Matty's pain—losing his mother, enduring manipulation from someone he trusted, and dealing with a narcissistic father. His fragility feels raw, authentic, and deeply valid.
Ro, on the other hand... There are many times when I cried for a character and wanted them to be transparent of their feelings and cried with me, but Ro might actually cry too much it gets exhausting. While vulnerability can be powerful, her frequent crying felt excessive, overshadowing other aspects of her character and making it harder to fully connect with her journey. She comes from a loving family, and while she faces challenges like homesickness and a toxic ex-boyfriend, I felt that many of her struggles felt more self-imposed than external; especially when girl is just adventurous but held back by the fear of being judged.
Therefore, given their personalities, I found both characters to be quite passive. They spend much of their time in states of sadness, heartbreak, or moping, which made their story lack excitement and momentum. Instead of feeling dynamic or engaging, the narrative often felt flat and unnecessarily drawn out. To make matters worse, Freddy and Ro are so similar in their emotional struggles that it became difficult to distinguish between them, leaving their individual arcs feeling indistinct and repetitive.
“I think you’d be easy to love�
Lord, I wish I could say the same to this book. Even so, it feels like the author leaned too heavily on this particular quote, trying to build the entire plot around it in an attempt to tug at readers' heartstrings. Instead, it came across as forced, and I found myself unmoved as the overreliance on this element made the story feel more contrived.
One of the other biggest missed of this book is that: the series has consistently focused solely on the main characters, when there’s so much potential for deeper connections with the found family aspect. The hockey families and their partners have such rich dynamics that could add layers to the story, yet this book � like the others, felt limited. I didn’t care much for Sadie and Rhys, sure; but their presence was so minimal you could count it on one hand. Despite being meant as significant friends to Ro and Freddy (debatable), they felt very insignificant. The small tidbit at the end didn’t make up for their near absence throughout the story, consequently made me feel disconnected from the larger community I had hoped to enjoy.
Another issue I had was the storytelling itself. This book overlaps with The Unsteady, and I honestly couldn't recall much from that book. There were moments where past events were referenced, but without a clear reminder, it was hard to understand what was going on. The narrative assumes you know the previous events, but for those of us who don’t remember every detail, it left me feeling lost. Not to say, the abrupt scene jumps between chapters feel sudden and jarring, disrupting the story’s flow and leaving readers disoriented. It’s a recurring issue that was never fixed, even after being noted in the previous book.
In the end, despite being presented with a wholesome epilogue and lovable characters who learned to trust each other, I didn’t feel that they truly grew as individuals. Their personal development felt stagnant despite the super long pages (I don't think it should be this long guys). Therefore, as much as it hurts me to settle with two stars, this is where I think their story stands.
Nevertheless, if you're looking for an emotionally layered story filled with heartfelt moments and mutual longing, this book might be the perfect fit for you.
p/s: I still don't like Sadie and I dislike her more in this book for some reasons lol...more
I was bawling my eyes out at the end of this book, but since I enjoyed The Bodyguard for its romance and sexual tension, this book feels more like a wI was bawling my eyes out at the end of this book, but since I enjoyed The Bodyguard for its romance and sexual tension, this book feels more like a woman fiction that it is romance. And so, I dive into this book with a different expectation and was a bit disappointed that the romance is not as per what I expected.
I still think it was well written, and I enjoy Sadie and Joy companionship.