What a soppy and ultimately forgettable rendition of the famous fable this turned out to be.

When I approach a retelling, whether it's historical or fantasy, I'm always filled with anticipation. Here is a chance to explore a legendary tale, not via a short vignette, but through the experience of a full-length novel. I want to be completely immersed in the detailed characters, the vivid scenes, and the well-developed narrative that bring such a tale to life. But that didn't happen here.

Instead, we have a fairly basic retelling sagging under the weight of its writing. From the first page to the last, every scene is treated with the upmost dramatic flair. No moment is too pedestrian, no thought too ordinary, to not be effused with the sort of reverent, emotional language usually reserved for a story's climax. I often found myself snickering at the most inappropriate moments, unable to reconcile the dramatic tones with the simple scene unfolding in front of me.

But for all that exaggerated writing, hardly anything happens in here. This is supposed to be the story of a beauty who infiltrates an enemy kingdom to become the king's concubine and lover, all so that she can singlehandedly bring the kingdom to its knees. So where is all the action?

Instead, it's scene after scene of Xishi smiling demurely and saying a few vapid sentences here and there, and that's pretty much the entire book. There were only two small conflicts I could remember in the leadup to the finale, and both were unforced errors. I cringed so hard, I tell you, because how can someone so incompetent actually bring anything down, let alone a kingdom?

Also, for a book about being a concubine and a lover, there were no actual love scenes in here, on or off page. All they did was sleep chastely side by side in the same bed, for years, with a few pecks here and there. If you're surprised, yeah, join the club. Like what king would agree to take a lover who doesn't do anything with them? Is this book for children? Because that's the only explanation I have for the extreme celibacy of this story.

Going in, I was under the impression that this was a fantasy, in large part due to the book design, its blurb, and all the book sites that categorize this first and foremost as such. But it's definitely not a fantasy. In fact, there is not a single fantasy element in here, unless you count Xishi's beauty as so astounding that it's otherworldly. Otherwise, it's straight up historical fiction.

It's clear that the author wrote this book with an eye towards wringing as much emotion from the reader as possible. And while I'm not above being emotionally manipulated by a good story, I need a little bit more than that to feel satisfied. I prefer my stories to have some meat on them, some substantial content I can really sink my teeth into, rather than just be one empty emotional punch after another.

And yet, for all my grousing, there was something in here that kept me turning the pages. There were scenes that charmed me and led me to cheer for Xishi and Fanli. Or perhaps I was waiting for this to materialize into the riveting tale I was hoping for. Either way, I kept coming back for more, so I must've gotten some enjoyment out of it, even if it was laced with disappointment.

Readaroo Rating: 3 stars

This is not planet Earth as we found it. This is a new place—a fire planet we have made.

A detailed investigation into all that transpired during the record-breaking Fort McMurray Fire, in which almost 100,000 people were forced to flee in a single afternoon, as well as a historical and scientific exploration of how we got to this point and where we will go from here, Fire Weather is as essential as it is eye-opening.

Going into this, I'd like to think I was fairly well-versed on current events, especially on anything weather-related. And of course I knew about global warming and climate change; I don't live under a rock, after all. But when it came to grasping the nitty gritty of exactly what all that entails, I admit I was a little bit hazy.

So this book is exactly what I needed to become crystal clear on this topic. It sits right at the intersection of current affairs, science, and history, all topics that interest me about our world. And I found it to be an absolutely engrossing read, one that as it went on, became harder and harder for me to put down.

We start off with a brief look into the history of fossil fuels, as well as how Fort McMurray became a petroleum boom town surrounded by boreal forest. Then the book shifts into a deep dive of the Fort McMurray Fire, and let me tell you, it is as harrowing and thrilling of a tale as any I've ever read. The mechanics of this fire were almost heretofore unseen, its destructive properties so vast and ferocious, it spawned its own weather systems and was not truly extinguished for more than a year.

The city and the surrounding landscape had become something akin to a fire planet—not a biome but a “pyrome” whose purpose was not to support life but to enable combustion.

But the irony is that Fort McMurray would not have existed as a city if not for its industry of extracting and producing fossil fuels. And while it's this industry that had made it into a boom town, it also simultaneously helped to shape the climate into one that supported and sustained the fire that eventually razed the city to the ground.

But the author doesn't just stop at reporting on the fire. He takes that event and ties it to history and science, and shows us the future in store for us if we choose to continue our destructive love affair with fossil fuels. The amount of research that went into this book must have been staggering, as is the author's vision and ability to tie it all together into a cohesive narrative that both informs and astounds.

Reading this book often left me in chills. Vaillant has a way with words that is not only illuminating in the way of nonfiction, but also evocative and emotionally resonant in the way that only the best of fiction can achieve. And the result is nothing short of remarkable and sobering.

It is almost unbearable to consider that our reckoning with industrial CO2 is only in its infancy, and that future generations will bear this burden far more heavily than we do now.

The juxtaposition of the details of a wildfire side-by-side with a study of climate change is a masterful stroke, as is the choice to go with the Fort McMurray Fire in particular. This combination, which examines climate change from both the micro and macro levels, really hits home the symbiotic relationship humankind has developed with fossil fuels and underscores the positive feedback loop we have created, through negligence at best and willful greed at worst, that is currently propelling us towards a future none of us want to see.

The message isn't all negative though. Yes, we are past the point of no return and our planet will never go back to the way it was before, but our total annihilation isn't a foregone conclusion yet. There is still hope, if we can only make the hard choices now and pivot in time. And so this book, more than anything, is a warning and a call to action.

The current moment is the greatest challenge humanity has faced since we (almost) mastered fire. This time, it is not fire we have to master, but ourselves. If we fail this test, there will be another one, and another after that, but each time the stakes will be higher and the price of failure steeper.

Every once a while, I come across a nonfiction read so profound, so staggering in its scope and so clear in its view, I feel like I'm walking away with essential knowledge of the world. And so this book does exactly that. It is timely, insightful, and surely a must-read as we approach yet another hottest year of yet another hottest decade on record.

Readaroo Rating: 5 stars!

When it comes to horror, I'm not looking to have the bejesus scared out of me. Yes, you read that correctly. I am in fact a big ol' wimp and I'm not afraid to admit it. You can judge all you want, you horror junkies, but my bar is somewhere around reading Goosebumps and having nightmares afterwards.

So it's no surprise that I hemmed and hawed when it came to reading this book. Could I handle it? Is it too scary? Would I have nightmares for weeks and live to regret it? I even asked the person who knows me best what he thought, and my husband so helpfully put it in tennis terms that I was trying to make an unforced error.

But something about this book called to me, and I just couldn't let it drop. And I'm so glad I went for it. Because not only did it not scare the bejesus out of me, but I actually had the most ridiculously good time with it.

When Margaret and her husband Hal first came upon that beautiful Victorian house, they couldn't believe their luck. But soon after moving in, they began to realize why it had been sitting empty for so long. And slowly but surely, things reach a fevered pitch every September. While Margaret loves the house quirks and all, Hal can't take it anymore. Soon after he leaves, Margaret's daughter Katherine shows up looking for her missing father. But what Katherine doesn't understand is that her being there and poking around is making things so much worse.

Let me just say right now, The September House isn't like any other horror book I've ever encountered. The tone isn't dark and depressing as all heck. Instead, there's this levity that makes it so much fun. Maybe that tone isn't quite the norm when it comes to this genre, but I certainly didn't mind and I'm glad the author chose to take it in that direction. It makes an otherwise inaccessible genre feel entertaining and delightful (words I never thought I'd associate with horror).

Most books of this genre take their mission to scare the reader very seriously, almost to their detriment. The protagonist (always a female) is made to jump and squeak and whimper at every dark corner, shadow, and small noise that emanates in their vicinity, as if their fear would somehow translate onto the reader. But instead of adding to the atmosphere, it just makes me roll my eyes. After all, if such simple things could send our protagonist into a tizzy, then how could they possibly handle the really scary stuff? Thankfully, this book does not fall into such a trap.

Margaret is the most strong and competent heroine I have ever come across in a horror book. Nothing fazes her. Not blood running down her walls, not apparitions that appear and try to bite her, and certainly not unspeakable evils in her basement. She just carries on with conviction and all her wits about her, and it's a breath of fresh air, I tell you.

This book has the feel of a thriller, meant to keep the reader engaged and turning the pages. There are interesting developments along the way that you don't see coming, and the overall progression of the story arc is both surprising and satisfying.

That isn't to say there aren't moments of seriousness and fear, but they did not overwhelm the scaredy-cat in me. Rather, the built-in comedic relief and the strong female protagonist both helped to offset the fright, and turned this into a horror story I could actually enjoy.

Now after such an unexpected experience, I'm left wondering if horror is really my long-lost favorite genre after all?

Readaroo Rating: 4 stars

I feared both men and spirits now. I had no allies, only enemies on all sides.

A magnificent retelling, The Night Ends with Fire isn't the Mulan legend of your Disney youth, that's for sure.

Meilin has grown up under the thumb of her oppressive father all her life. Soon he plans to sell her for her dowry to another violent man who will treat her the same. When war comes to the Three Kingdoms, Meilin seizes her chance and enlists in the army as a man. But as she gains skills and confidence and the power of a spirit, she begins to wonder if her duplicity will hold and how far she's really willing to go to secure her freedom.

Let me just gush for a second here. I had such an amazing time with this story. It's exactly the sort I adore, with a badass heroine and a high stakes conflict where everything is on the line. There is no easy victory, only hard choices, and every character is some shade of morally gray.

I feel like Disney's Mulan was a bit too goody two-shoes (as is typical of Disney), so I'm really glad this book turned that on its head. Meilin certainly isn't good through and through. Instead, she must balance her desire for freedom and power with her duty to her kingdom and her love for her family. There was a rawness and courage to Meilin that makes it easy to like her and relate to her, even if I didn't always understand or agree with her decisions.

In fact, it's not just Meilin's character that's interesting and complex. It's almost every character in this book. Their moral ambiguity is a large part of why they come across as real and interesting. There is no straightforward path when it comes to war, no high road to take on the way to victory. There is only bloodshed and sacrifice and death, and this tale certainly doesn't shy away from that.

The writing in here is evocative and easy to fall into. I feel like I was sucked in from the very first page. To me, there is no higher compliment and no greater quality in a book than immersiveness, and this story has it in spades. I wanted to gobbled it up but also savor it slowly so that I didn't reach the end too soon.

This is categorized as romantasy, and I would say it's mostly fantasy with just a bit of romance sprinkled in, exactly how I like it. The fantasy world is vivid and easy to grasp without a lot of complex worldbuilding. And the light romance should appeal to readers who aren't big fans of it or don't care for lots of explicit scenes.

One interesting thing to note are the names in here. When you translate names between different languages, you have the choice of going phonetically or contextually. Phonetically is generally considered more authentic, but you lose the meaning behind the names. Here, the author chose to do a mix of both. While at first it was a little odd to have names in pinyin like "Meilin" next to "Sky" and "Sparrow", I did grow to appreciate that it gave context where otherwise there would be none and helped to distinguish the characters for an English-speaking audience.

Same could also be said for including some Chinese phrases mixed in in an English book. When the meaning is unclear, the author often put the pinyin and the English side-by-side, so that really the phrase is duplicated. I can see the purists getting up in arms over it, claiming that it's sufficient just to include the pinyin and leave it at that. So what if the audience it's intended for doesn't understand? But that's just silly. While I'm all for authenticity, I'm happy with the balance the author struck so that no one has to miss out.

What an exhilarating tale this turned out to be. I originally picked it up because the luminous cover and pretty sprayed edges totally captured my attention, and I wasn't about to pass up a Mulan retelling. While judging a book by its cover doesn't always pay off, it certainly did in this case.

My only regret is reaching the end and realizing this isn't a standalone. Now starts the long wait for the sequel.

Readaroo Rating; 5 stars!

And the award for Most Interesting Premise But Lackluster Execution goes to... drumroll please... The Wishing Game.

Like what the heck? Obviously, I have a lot to say, so please hear me out.

First, the premise. With its promise of a famous children's author hosting a game to win it all on a remote island shaped for the face of a clock, this book sounds like the most magical, whimsical journey. It's distinctly Willy Wonka-esque, and I don't know anybody who doesn't love that. Add in that eye-catching title which totally tugs at the imagination, and I was all ready to be impressed. But no, this fell so short on pretty much every level, I can only gape at the distance between my expectations and reality.

At the heart of it, this just doesn't read like adult fiction. It reads distinctly like a children's book, and honestly, not a very good one. There's a simplicity to the writing and the story that doesn't grab my attention. It's hard to stay engaged when every scene is so formulaic and bland. In fact, there are excerpts in here from the children's books themselves, and there were no discernible differences between the writing in there and the actual story.

The characters never became anything more than cardboard cutouts of real people. Each has one or two characteristics that define them, and they stay within those narrowly defined bounds. Lucy is poor and hates her family and wants to adopt Christopher. Christopher is a sad foster kid who loves sharks. Hugo is a temperamental artist who scowls a lot. And Jack is an eccentric author who lives in an eccentric house on an eccentric island, and every thing he says is eccentric. There, I've summed up the entirety of the cast.

The way they interact with each other is so odd and forced. Like if you've only known someone for 24 cumulative hours, would you go around hugging them and asking them to be your parent? What about calling your coworker "baby girl"? Or promising a child without parents that you can just adopt them, even when you yourself don't have safe housing or reliable transportation? I don't know, maybe you can, and it's just me that's weird.

But it wasn't just a scene here or there. There were so many moments that came off as vaguely creepy or inappropriate or uncomfortable or just plain weird, but they were all written as if they're actually heartwarming. It was so bizarre and puzzling, I felt like I was in a twilight zone.

And that's just it. Throughout this entire book, it's as if I was being sold a story and I couldn't shake the feeling that it was wrong. I can suspend disbelief for plot, but it's very hard to suspend disbelief for characters and the way they act. If what they say and do feel a little bit off, then it's like I'm constantly being reminded that what I'm reading isn't real. It's hard to become immersed in a story like that.

There's this phrase—"death by a thousand cuts"— that I think is totally appropriate here. There isn't any one thing I can point to that is egregiously wrong with this story, but there are so many little things. The simple writing, the dull dialogue and plot, and the way all the characters interact that feel just a little bit off—all put together, make this an extremely underwhelming read.

Readaroo Rating: 2 stars

This slim novel packs quite a punch, one I wasn't really expecting.

Speculative fiction can be hit or miss for me. The ones that miss tend to have extremely enticing premises, but when you look beneath the surface, there isn't much there. Hum is totally the opposite. I can't even explain what the premise is because it sounds so generic. The world is beset by climate change and capitalism gone awry, and a woman is trying to raise her kids and love them as best as she can in such a world. See, that doesn't really grab you, does it? And yet, there was so much more underneath the surface.

What makes this book so subversive isn't that the dystopian society presented in here is completely different from our current one. Rather, it's that it's almost the same. We need not look very far into the future—or even at all—to imagine that our lives could be like this. And that's what makes this so chilling.

Reading this, the disquiet and horror stole up on me slowly. At first, this seems like a dystopian world far from ours. In their world, capitalism runs amuck, constantly serving up ads and materialistic goods at the smallest sign of acquiesce. In their world, you must monitor air quality carefully and stay indoors during the bad days. In their world, everyone prefers the easy company of their "bunnies" and wooms to the complicated company of other humans. Except, oh wait...

And maybe part of the reason this hit me particularly hard is that I'm a mother to a young child, so I totally understand May's perspective. Her desire to disentangle her family from technology, all the while relying on its more useful parts, is a dilemma both familiar and unsolvable.

The only missed mark for me is perhaps the title of this book. I felt naming the story after the AI robots in here to be a bit of a misnomer. This story isn't about the hums at all. It's about us humans, and how far we are willing to go, how much of our humanity we are willing to sacrifice, in order to have everything we want at our technological fingertips.

Even though, like all speculative fiction, the world that's presented in here is just theoretical, it certainly feels much more than that. There's a prescience that is undeniable, and I suspect this story will continue to gnaw on me long after I'm done. It's definitely one of my most thought-provoking reads of the year.

Readaroo Rating: 4 stars

Calling all fans of science fiction—if you haven't read The Illuminae Files, what the heck are you waiting for?

Here we have reached the final book in this trilogy, and what a stunning culmination and conclusion it is. You know what this reminds me of? It reminds me of being a kid and reading for the pure joy of it. There are no themes to dissect, no greater takeaways to suss out. It's just a rip-roaring good time you can sink your teeth into, and the experience is so immersive, the line between the real and the fictional starts to blur.

The first time I read this series, I was fairly new to science fiction. So of course I made the mental mistake you always make when it's your first of anything. You assume what you got was fairly common and there's plenty more like it out there, so you use that to set the bar for average. Well, imagine my consternation when, after years and years of reading sci-fi, I realized that I actually read one of the best in the genre right off the bat, and I'm never really going to find another one quite like it.

I think you guys know my love for science fiction by now. But on the off chance you don't, please allow me to wax poetic for a moment here. Science fiction will always rank high on my list of favorite genres, if not at the very top spot. And that's because of how bold and imaginative it is. When done well, it takes you to places you've never been before in ways you've never encountered. And that's exactly what this series does.

There is something so audacious about every aspect of this story. The characters are about as brave and badass as you can hope for, putting their lives on the line again and again to save those around them. But they don't just brute force it. No, they use their brains to outwit their enemies, and you guys know I can't resist that. The dialogue in here is so snarky, whip-smart, and funny, to call it banter seems like such an understatement. And the plot surprises at every turn. Just when you think you've got a grasp on what's going on, well you didn't see that coming, did you?

Its format is as interesting as it is groundbreaking. The dossier-like style matches up perfectly with the action-driven plot, and together they seamlessly weave a story that is hard to look away from. You know that feeling of having your heart in your throat? That's exactly every moment of this book and this series in a nutshell.

But it isn't just action scene after action scene. The very best science fiction is profoundly moving, asking us to think deeply about what it means to be human and what price we would be willing to pay to protect that humanity. And so this series does too, reaching deep into our conscience to ask those searing questions.

The only minor drawback to this series is that it's young adult. The heroes and heroines in here are unabashedly teenagers, with their attitudes, romances, and cheesiness all rolled into one. And while there's nothing wrong with that per se, it is several decades in the past for me now. But over the course of three books, their courage and bright-eyed idealism won me over, and so did their hip lingo. I guess what I'm trying to say is, don't let the YA part dissuade you, even if you're an old fogey like me. If you can look past it, there is as good of a sci-fi story here as any adult ones I've come across, and it just might get you in touch with your younger self.

This whole series has felt so bold and fearless, taking the reader on a sublimely imaginative ride. And this third and final book does the series justice, bringing an epic conclusion to that breathtaking journey. Along the way, it left me in awe and gave me all the feels.

I guess my only remaining question is: when are they going to turn this into a movie? Someone needs to get J.J. Abrams on the line stat because the only thing that could make this even better is copious amounts of lens flare.

Readaroo Rating: 5 stars!