Was this supposed to funny? Cause I didn't laugh.

Going in, I thought Yesteryear would be a slam dunk for me. But now I've found myself in the unexpected position of being just about the only one who didn't enjoy it.

I thought this story was going to be about a traditional wife, one who wants to stay at home and revel in the domesticity of child rearing, cleaning, and cooking, all the while playing it up for the cameras of her social media account. And then one day, she actually wakes up in the 1800s and bumbles around, much to her consternation and our amusement. Now wouldn't that have been a fun story? But instead, I got something else altogether.

You see, Natalie doesn't revel in the role. She only pretends to. Instead of spending her life doing what she actually enjoys, she inexplicably tortures herself into living a life she can't stand and faking her enjoyment of it, all the while looking down at every single person who doesn't adhere to her view of what a traditional woman should be. And so right off the bat, I'm confused. Because what exactly is the point of a story about faking it?

As is every story, it all comes down to the characters. And Natalie never gelled into a real, coherent one for me. She hates being a mother, but keeps having more kids. She hates farming, but insists on living on a farm. She doesn't like her husband, but screams at her sister for divorcing. And through it all, she documents every step for social media just so she can pretend some more. Yeah, I didn't get it at all.

There's a level of cynicism here that was hard to stomach. Natalie had a constant, internal dialogue of hate towards just about everyone who wasn't her, and it was painful to read. She viewed herself as a victim with no choice, even though every decision was hers the whole way through and she could've stopped at any time.

But Natalie isn't real, she's the creation of the author. So I feel like I'm forced to ask why Caro Claire Burke chose to write Natalie this way. It felt unnecessarily mean and cruel. Sure, there are women out there who want to have lots of kids and make every meal from scratch and let their husbands be the sole breadwinner of the family. But so what? I certainly wouldn't write a whole story just to make fun of them and their lifestyle.

I understand this is supposed to be satire, and it's trying to tackle a variety of timely topics. But the problem is that none of those things actually came through on the pages. In lieu of delving deep into these worthwhile topics—exploitation of children in social media, the difficulty of juggling a career and motherhood, the intense pressure to appear happy even when you're not—it really only skimmed the surface, choosing instead to return again and again to focus on how deranged Natalie is.

When you go so over the top, you end up losing the humanity underneath, and it becomes harder to see these characters as real people. Instead of being subversive and feminist, this book actually reinforces the awful idea that women are crazy and can't be trusted to figure out what they really want.

And maybe that's at the crux of my negative feelings. When you create a character that's so spiteful and unhinged, you're essentially walking them down a path of mental illness. And I guess I just don't find yet another story about a woman acting crazy and being perceived as mentally ill to be that funny.

I'm looking at the wide gulf between my thoughts and everyone else's, and I'm honestly puzzled. Perhaps I read a different book. Or I just lack the sense of humor necessary to fully understand this one. Either way, I'm in the minority, so don't let me dissuade you from giving it a try.

Your mother lies to you, and then you lie to your children, and then your children lie to their children, and then you are an old woman, looking back at your own life, lying to yourself.

Readaroo Rating: 2 stars

Call me crazy, but could Kevin Kwan be the Jane Austen of our era? Cause from where I’m sitting, the similarities couldn’t be more striking.

But let's talk about the book first. Going in, I thought I was getting a zany romantic comedy. But instead of your typical white representation, we get two Asians, one of whom comes from an extremely wealthy though misbehaving family. And I would've been happy with that. At the time this book came out, it was extremely rare to see ethnic Chinese characters as the main love interests, so to get even that made me really excited. But this turned out to be so much more.

Because the thing is, this isn't a romcom. And it isn't chicklit either. Crazy Rich Asians is a social satire, and the distinction makes all the difference. The point of this story isn't to read it with full earnestness while cheering on Rachel and Nick and marveling at the opulent wealth and cringing at the excessive displays. Yes, you can do that, but it's also crucial to understand that the over the top extravaganza is simply a vehicle for Kwan to critique the social norms and structures of our time, and in the process, make us laugh.

I was amazed at how Kwan was able to peel back the layers and keenly sketch out all the characteristics of growing up Chinese, including the enormous pressure to succeed along the narrowest of lines, the expectation to bow to familial demands, and the emphasis on face and appearance. The juxtaposition of Nick and Rachel and the way they approach their families really highlights the difference between the East and the West, and how hard it can be for the two sides to understand each other.

And through it all, Kwan injected so much fun and humor into this. I normally can't stand to read about Asian family dysfunctions because it hits too close to home. But here, Kwan was able to take raw and tender subjects and turn them into comical events, all the while honestly examining the beauty and ugliness within. The strife and the feelings in here were spot on, but they made me laugh instead of cry.

It's worth talking about the film adaptation for a second. So this is another example where it pays to read the book because the film just doesn't do it justice. The book was such a carefully constructed satire, but the adaptation slashed out all the social commentary and ironic humor, and turned it into a heartfelt romcom. While there's nothing wrong with that and I'm a fan of the movie, it really doesn't hold a candle to the original material.

Now back to Jane Austen. She, too, was a satirist. Social satire was the backbone of her work, and she wielded her characters, her dialogue, her wit, all to critique social structures and norms of her time. And so Kevin Kwan does too, both of them exploring human nature and exposing all of its follies and foibles in the pages of their stories. They both focused a lot on class, wealth, and social hierarchy, using the romantic pairing of a poorer character with a richer one to showcase the extent that vanity, snobbery, and greed play in our lives.

I've been a fan of Kevin Kwan for some time now and have read most of his books, some of them more than once. But it wasn't until recently when I read a few of Jane Austen's that I finally put two and two together. And once I saw the resemblance, I couldn't unsee it anymore. Kwan must have been a big Austen fan, and it shows in the way he carefully crafted this tale. It is both a scintillating triumph in its own right, as well as a reverential nod to the OG of social satire.

Readaroo Rating: 4 stars

Not gonna lie, Ali Hazelwood is my guilty pleasure. And Two Can Play is the perfect little escapist read to take me away from it all.

What is there to say that I haven't said a thousand times before? I love Ali Hazelwood, and this story is the perfect example why. Her writing is so spunky and vivacious, it never fails to engage me and put a smile on my face. Even when she uses her signature miscommunication trope, I'm still there for the ride, and that says something.

Speaking of miscommunication, that is the crux of this story. But before you go and throw this book out the window, know that it wasn't too bad here. The novella length saved it from the excessive and extravagant treatment that Ali is known to give her full length novels. Instead, we get just the right dosage and then it's all quickly resolved.

I'm not much of a video game player, so I did go into this with a bit of hesitation. But no worries, Ali has a penchant for writing smart, loveable characters, and I immediately fell in love with both Viola and Jesse. If ever there was a romance trope I adore, it's pining, and this had it in spades. In fact, both of our main characters were partaking, so the sizzle was high.

If I had one quibble, it's that the spicy scenes take up too much of the book, especially considering that this is a short novella to begin with. I wanted less of the sexed-up Viola and Jesse, and more of the regular version. But that's my problem. Every time I read one of Ali's novellas, I end up wanting more. But then I complain that the full length novels are too much. Sorry, Ali, it seems you just can't win with me.

I understand this first came out on audiobook format a few years, and it's only recently that it has been published to written form. That's interesting, and it might be the first time I've ever heard of such a thing. But I didn't listen to the audio, I've only read the book, so all my thoughts are solely for the latter.

Also, someone needs to write The Limerence Saga ASAP. Ali, I hope that's you?

Readaroo Rating: 4 stars

Who can know what will come? Today, a kingdom. A life where you eat and drink from dreams. Tomorrow, the dirt of the grave to rub on your mouth.

Talk about a powerful, compelling, utterly riveting story. When people say reading is an exercise in empathy, surely this is the consummate example of that.

Some books really get to you. And I knew from the very first page that Good People would get to me. How could I not read a story about immigrants who gave up their home, their language, their culture, everything they knew and loved, all to move somewhere foreign and build a new life for their family, and not feel something stirring in my immigrant heart?

Rahmat and Maryam remind me of my parents, working so hard to give their children the opportunity of a better life. And Omer and Zorah remind me of myself, with all that intense pressure to succeed and the constant push and pull between the old and new. And if this book was just about the immigrant experience, I would've loved it already. But it was so much more.

It's written like a mystery, and bit by bit, we learned what happened to Zorah and her family. I feel like my heart was pounding the whole time, wanting to know more, yet afraid of what I will learn.

As is every great book ever written, it's not about the plot, it's about the characters. And the ones in here are so flawed and so real, it was almost too much to take at times. I felt for every single person in here as their human nature (and so ours too) was laid bare on the pages.

The format added to the appeal. It's written like a documentary, told via interview transcripts with the different friends and acquittances of the family. You would think with so many different viewpoints and narrators, it would get confusing. But it wasn't. The focus was always solidly on the family, and they remain the center of our story.

The unusual structure paved the way for the goal of this story, which was to provide a composite, often disparate view of the family. Are they the good immigrants, working hard to achieve the American Dream? Or are they old and stubborn, unable to change and assimilate in a new country? Are they humble in their achievements? Or do they allow their children to spoil and run wild?

As the story progressed, I didn't know what to think. Every new page was another color in the kaleidoscope, but how did they all fit together? I've seen mysteries done a lot of different ways, but this was such a unique and bold take on the genre, and the journey and resolution were altogether nothing short of striking.

We touch upon so many worthwhile topics along the way. Everything was seamlessly woven in and done with such a subtle and deft hand, that it never felt forced or preachy. There is no black or white, only so many shades of grey in between. And I nodded along to every insightful morsel, gobbling it up and storing it in my mind to mull over in the days and weeks to come.

For how thought provoking this book was, it was also eminently readable. I know there's been a recent trend to bill every vaguely interesting book as a one-sit read, but it's no exaggeration here. Once you start, you won't want to stop. This was such a fast, engrossing read, the hours will fly by until you've reached the very last page.

This story worked on every single level—riveting and unputdownable, a terrific mystery, but also underneath, many many layers to think about and digest. It's one of those books that indelibility changes who you are, and the version of you after will forever be slightly altered from the version before.

Readaroo Rating: 5 stars!

When it comes to fairytale reimaginings, there are two aspects that really matter. One, does the story bring something new to the table when viewed through the lens of the original fairy tale? And two, does it stand on its own as fresh and compelling? I’m sorry to say that Lady Tremaine didn’t really succeed on either front for me.

When you think about it, the evil stepmother in the original Cinderella had a distinct but abbreviated role. She was the gatekeeper to all of her stepdaughter's dreams, preventing her from living a life of love and dignity. But what did she really do from scene to scene? Well, not much. And so right off the bat, with such meager inspirations, the reimagining started to flounder.

What is there for our Lady Tremaine to do in this narrative? Well, she schemes for her daughters to get invited to the ball, then she prepares for the ball, then she attends the ball, and then she laments the wretchedness of her plans not coming to fruition after the ball. If that all seems rather bland, then yeah, that’s almost the whole tale.

The other major problem is that Lady Tremaine is not evil in this version. If that is the sound of your jaw dropping, you and me both. I know it’s not easy to write a compelling villain as your main character, and so I can see the urge to smooth away the bad and turn on the good. But to eliminate every bit of evil in its entirety is to also exorcise all that was fascinating about the character in the first place.

In fact, the evil isn’t just removed from Lady Tremaine, it is instead transferred to other characters. And so of course every scene with those characters—few though there were—felt fascinating and striking, and they were the origin stories I wanted and was quite frankly promised.

It wasn't until near the end that this reimagining deviated from the original and gained even a modicum of interest. But not only did the changes seem to come out of nowhere and bear no resemblance to Cinderella, they didn't even make much sense. I was honestly left a bit baffled.

I wish Rachel Hochhauser had just gone ahead and wrote a whole new story instead of deciding to follow in the limited footsteps of Cinderella. But as it stands, the parts that remained faithful to the original were bland and lackluster, while the parts that deviated (strange and perplexing though they might've been) were the only parts that held my interest at all.

I also have to mention the writing. It was ornate, often using ruminations and fancy language to give meaning to mundane happenings. It constantly pulled me out of an already glacial narrative, and it didn't do anything for me. I like complex messages as much as the next reader, but the overwrought writing here didn't match the thin plot or the lack of substance underneath.

So this was a pretty thorough disappointment for me from beginning to end. I kept waiting and waiting for the story to grab me, but it never really did. I signed up to read the origin story of a villain and instead got some uninspired and watered down version of a goody two-shoes.

Readaroo Rating: 2.5 stars

Perhaps a day will come when I can resist a reference to my favorite Agatha Christie, but it's not this day. And so from the moment I saw the title to this book, I knew I had to read it.

Let's start by setting the correct expectations though. Any similarities to Agatha Christie or And Then There Were None really begins and ends with the fact that both books contain quite a few dead bodies and one title is a pun of the other. But that's it. On every other front, you should really think of this story as not at all related to its namesake.

What this is though is a blend of murder mystery and romance, all set to the coziest of atmospheres and quaintest of villages.

The mystery itself was quite fun and interesting. Georgie's beloved Buncombe-upon-Woolly is gripped in the throes of crime. As more and more residents pop up dead, Georgie can't help but be concerned. Surely five suspicious deaths in a year seems a bit much. And so she has no choice but to stick her nose where it doesn't belong and sleuth out what's really going on.

I liked the mystery. I thought it had clever twists and turns and red herrings of the sort that every mystery reader would approve of. There were quite a few moments throughout when it took me by surprise, and even though the investigation was conducted in the bumbling way this sort of story usually is, it all came together in the end with much satisfaction.

But when it came to the romance, I was less certain. To be fair, I think this is in large part due to the fact that I'm just not crazy about the cozy genre. The writing and the characters ooze a sort of preciousness and by golly jolliness that feels distinctly inauthentic. And so when two of its characters come together, it feels even more fake.

With Georgie especially, although she is so smart in other respects, she exhibits a sort of cluelessness with Sebastian that is immensely grating. There are only so many demure "you can't possibly like me" a reader can take before having had enough.

I'm a little surprise because Martha Waters comes from a romance background and this was her first mystery, But go figure, I wasn't that into the romance and my vote goes solidly to the mystery side of things.

By the way, could this be the start to a mystery series? Now that the ridiculous romance has been all sorted out, I wouldn't mind reading more of Georgie and Sebastian's adventures.

"Why should I need to read about a fictional cozy village full of homicidal maniacs when I am already inhabiting one?"

Readaroo Rating: 3.5 stars

For a fictional biography to work, it's almost entirely hinged on its characters. They really have to shine, convincing us that people who have never existed are in fact real. But the ones in The Future Saints are so bland, they never truly came alive. They lacked personality, clinging to the sort of superficiality that hobbled them the entire time.

Who is Hannah other than someone who loves and misses her sister? How do I tell the other two members of the band apart? What does Theo even see in Hannah? The book never adequately addressed these crucial questions, and so my feelings toward the characters remained fuzzy and ambivalent.

Character depth matter, never more so than when it's a character-driven story. And so here, it was an uphill climb almost the whole way to try to differentiate and connect with these rather lackluster ones.

But perhaps the blame lies with me. All the comparisons to Daisy Jones had me thinking this was a fictional rock 'n' roll biography. But it was less that and more written in the style of women's fiction, with explorations of grief and addiction and a love story embedded in, and the rock 'n' roll provided the setting rather than the focus.

About halfway through, I finally started getting into the story. But even then, I didn't feel much for the band. My favorite character was Theo, whose earnestness and sobriety and desire to help others finally won me over.

This was fine. But I think I just expected more. The writing, the characters, even the events in the story, all felt more generic than memorable, which just doesn't line up with my expectations of what a fictional biography, let alone a rock 'n' roll one, should be.

Readaroo Rating: 3 stars