Everyone else is loving this, so don’t mind me over here. But if you were to ask me, I’d say Big Little Truths is nowhere near as good as its predecessor.

Gosh, where to begin? I went into this book with two minds. On the one hand, I loved Big Little Lies. It's one of my favorite books of all time, and to have the chance to visit Pirriwee once more sounds absolutely delightful. On the other hand, has any unplanned and unnecessary sequel to a beloved book ever worked out? I'm scanning my brain and coming up empty.

So to give myself the best chance, I reread the original, then jumped straight into this one. And almost immediately, I could tell there was no comparison. Just about everything that made the first book so special was missing in this one, and reading them back to back was night and day.

The slog started almost from page one. Whereas the original was tightly plotted and urgently paced, this story meandered along. Gone was the compulsion to turn the pages, gone was the feeling that every scene was essential. Instead, we took our time, saying hello to every single character from the first book, along with each of their spouses and children, all seemingly without an overarching point.

But the worst part is that the zing is gone. All that dark humor and social satire that I loved from the first book is so watered down in this one. Yes, there were still funny moments, but the bite that made me wince and laugh in equal measure while devouring the original? It's just not here.

I almost quit, that's how bad it was. At 450 pages, this book is about the same length as the first one, yet it felt ten times longer. The first book was pretty much a one-sit read, whereas you really have to work for every single page of this one. It wasn't until almost the last 100 pages that things started to happen and the plot finally revealed itself, but by then, it felt too little too late.

I get the leisurely pace, I really do. Obviously, Liane Moriarty wrote this for all the uber fans of the original book (and the show too), and she must satisfy their curiosity. So we are forced to engage in the sort of navel gazing and dilly dallying that's usually reserved only for retirees and epilogues. And really, isn't that what this is, one long epilogue and lovefest to a cherished series no one wants to say goodbye to? But it sure doesn't make for a scintillating read.

It didn't help that the main conflict in here, while serious, didn't amount to a novel length worth of strife. It was a weak starting point, and no amount of beloved characters and picturesque setting could save it. If there’s not enough substance, there’s not enough substance. You can’t squeeze blood from a stone, no matter how hard you try, and that’s the feeling I got the entire time.

I blame the show. It's clear Moriarty is setting up this sequel to be a continuation of the popular tv series, and as a result, it feels like it's written for the screen rather than for the pages. In fact, it almost reads like a screenplay, with its overexplanatory dialogue and plodding pace urging you to tune in for the next episode if you actually want the good bits.

Maybe I'm being too harsh. This wasn't all bad. There were definitely moments I could almost feel the magic, when the story seemed poised on the edge of something propulsive and funny. But it never got there. And maybe if I'd been looking for an overly long epilogue or a generic neighborhood drama, I would've found this to be a decent or even good read. But my expectations being what they were, this just didn't cut it.

Still, I remain a fan of the author. Obviously, you can't expect someone to write one of the best books ever, then turn around ten years later and write a sequel that is also another best book ever. (Can you?) So I'm just going to erase this book from my memory and pretend it never existed. And let's hope Liane Moriarty goes back to writing standalones and never ever revisits Pirriwee.

Readaroo Rating: 3 stars

While this book is billed as a mystery/thriller, it’s really the social satire and dark suburban humor that takes Big Little Lies into the stratosphere for me.

On the surface, this seems like a tale I've read a thousand times before. A neighborhood of women keeping secrets. An accidental death, or could it possibly be murder? And an investigation into what really happened beneath the calm, placid exterior of small town Pirriwee. And yet, this was so much more, and I'm still reeling from just how hard it hit me.

From the very first page, this book held me in its thralls. I couldn't put it down, I couldn't look away. Every scene, every character, every conflict, they were all so vividly drawn. There was a sharpness to the writing and an astuteness to the observations that felt so searing, it would almost be painful if not for the humor.

And this book was definitely funny. I often found myself grinning and chuckling along, trying to savor all the witty lines. If I were the sort to wield highlighters and freely desecrate books (I would never!), I'm pretty sure I would've marked up the whole thing.

I can't get enough of social satire. Of course Jane Austen was the OG, using her keen wit and droll sense of humor to shine a light on the absurdity of human nature and human interactions. And so Liane Moriarty follows in these footsteps, focusing on suburban life and all of its ensuing drama and friction and stress, both real and imagined.

Mothers took their mothering so seriously now. Their frantic little faces. Their busy little bottoms strutting into the school in their tight gym gear. Ponytails swinging. Eyes fixed on the mobile phones held in the palms of their hands like compasses.

With satire, my preference is always for the subtle. Is the author actually being serious or is she poking gentle fun at the characters and thus us in turn? That fine line between truth and exaggeration is where all the best social satirists thrive. Sure, when you exaggerate, it's outrageous. But when you're pretty much just telling the unadorned truth? That's when it's really painful and funny in equal measure.

The narrative follows three different perspectives. Now usually when that happens, it would inevitably lead to one or the other being more scintillating, while the rest are relegated to being the dull stepchildren. But no such fears here. Every single character arc was just as interesting and compelling as the next, and I couldn't gobble them up fast enough.

If I had to pick a favorite, it would have to be Madeline. She's so feisty, it's possible I might've been in awe of her the entire time. She says all the things I wish I could say—propriety and civility be damned—if only I had the courage and wit to do so. Yes, I was cringing at the stuff coming out of her mouth, but I was also cheering her on every step of the way.

Let's talk about one of the core themes in here and a big reason why this story hit so hard. Domestic violence has always felt like a somewhat nebulous concept, at least to those of us lucky enough to never have experienced it. Of course we sympathize with the victims, but underlying that is always the vague puzzle—Why do they stay? Why don't they just leave? This story sketched out with vivid clarity the exact reasons why. And in the process, it gives a voice to domestic violence victims and brings them to life.

A little violence was a bargain price for a life that would otherwise be just too sickeningly, lavishly, moonlit perfect.

Before wrapping up my thoughts, let me touch upon the screen adaptation. Just a warning though, this is going to turn into a little bit of a rant, so avert thy eyes if you're a fan. Truthfully, the adaptation was a huge disappointment for me. It stripped out everything I loved most about this book—the satire, the humor, the fun—and made it into some dark and gritty doppelgänger I hardly even recognized. So I wasn't a fan. And I urge everyone who's seen the show to still read the book, because the book is a million times better. Okay, that's the end of my rant.

So there you have it, this is one of my all time favorite books. I've read it multiple times now, and it still remains fresh and biting every single time. My most recent go at it, I feel like I related to it even more because I'm a mom to a preschooler now. All that commentary about suburban life and mothering, it's so accurate, I was wincing along in between all those chuckles.

Through some special alchemy, Liane Moriarty has managed to pack into a single book everything I could ever want—it's light and dark, funny and scary, entertaining and insightful. I remain as in awe of this story now as I was the first time I read it.

Readaroo Rating: 5 stars!

I always get pretty excited when adult books show up with illustrations. Because let's be honest, the only thing readers like more than words is pictures, amiright? So when I heard Look What the Cat Dragged In had more than eighty pages of illustrations, I perked up. You add in some cute cats, and there's no way I can pass that up.

Initially, I really enjoyed where this story was headed. Penny's search for Popcorn interspersed with comic scenes from their life together set up a certain vibe and expectation for the narrative. And that expectation is fun. Obviously I knew going in that this was horror, but you can totally have fun and horror side by side. Unfortunately though, that wasn't really where this ended up.

So horror as a genre is incredibly diverse. A story can go in many different directions and still have it fall under the big horror umbrella, so I try to keep that in mind when reading. But if I had to pick one direction it can go that I dislike above all else, it would have to be gross (above gory, above scaring the bejesus out of me). So when we get to the core of this tale and it starts being gross, I deflated a little.

Now thankfully, this is a speedy read. With so many illustrations sprinkled throughout, you're flipping through the pages much faster than you would a regular book. And that middle part of the story where Penny doesn't know what's going on and it's just getting grosser and grosser? It's mercifully swift and passes by quickly. Once Penny puts two and two together, it's back to being a fun narrative again all the way to the conclusion.

I think it's worth talking about whether this story actually makes sense. As is with lots of books in the genre, when you really think about it, that answer tends to lean towards no, and they skate by on the strength of their spooky vibes. And I would say that's more or less accurate here as well, so just be sure to set your expectations if you decide to go for it.

Obviously, with all these illustrations (really the highlight of the story), you're going to want to read this book in physical format and not via audiobook. While you don't technically need the illustrations to understand what's going on, to miss them would detract quite a bit from the charm of this tale. And you certainly don't want to be left with mainly the gross bits.

All in all, this was okay. It wasn't the best horror I've ever read, it wasn't the worst. It wasn't the most nonsensical, nor was it the most coherent. It was quite middle of the road. But its one big allure is its seamless integration of all those illustrations, which added an immeasurable amount of uniqueness and freshness to the tale. And for that alone, it might be worth a spot on your overcrowded TBR. Especially if you're a cat lover.

Readaroo Rating: 3.5 stars

Two books in, and I'm still over here waiting for that Stephen King magic to hit me.

But let's talk about Carrie first. So this book has been on my TBR for ages. Every time I mention I want to try more Stephen King, this book always seems to come up. And now having read it, I get it. I can totally see why this debut would've put King on the map and marked him as a literary force to be reckoned with.

My predominant thought while reading this book is that it sure feels like a feminine rage story. But instead of being female empowerment, it's more like disempowerment. Every female in here is a corruption of their circumstances—Carrie's mother, the popular girls in school who bullied Carrie, even Sue and Tommy who tried to be nice to her. They all came together in a tornado of events and emotions that created and fed the monster in Carrie.

This is a relatively fast read, eschewing the more traditional chapter divide for three distinct parts. Every few pages, we switch from one point of view to another, which helps to keep things moving along. King is well known for his doorstoppers, of which thankfully this is not one of them, thus making it a less intimidating choice for a novice like me.

So why only 3 stars? Honestly, I think it just comes down to personal preference. For me, I like my horror to be a bit spooky or creepy. But here, the horror comes from how far these kids would go to bully and hurt each other, which is less spine tingling and more just sad. As for the telekinesis (the only paranormal element in here), I suspect it's something I would've found scarier in my younger days, but as an adult, it just doesn't raise the hairs on my arms anymore.

More crucially, I thought the structure of the story hindered rather than added to its suspense. Often during pivotal moments, we come into it already knowing what's about to happen, thanks to the preceding scene in which a witness was interviewed into spilling the beans. Not gonna lie, that kind of puzzled me. I thought you always want to take the reader unawares and surprise them, not tell them what's going to happen first, then spell out it out for them in long form what you already gave away.

This also leans heavily into Americana, with its setting of small town New England and its rituals of prom and locker rooms and cliquey antics. And this conjuring of high school nostalgia, in all of its good and bad, is a driving force behind the reader's connection to the story. But it didn't quite land that way for me, as it invokes a time I was navigating language and cultural barriers that perhaps shielded me from such unpleasantness. As a result, many of these elements in the story felt over the top to me, but I bet those who fully grew up here would beg to differ.

Maybe one last reason is that it felt dated to me. I know people call Stephen King's books timeless, so I apologize for having a dissenting opinion. For me, some of the female portrayals tended toward stereotypes and the dialogues during the interviews felt like conversations of a bygone era.

I can see why this book is still so popular after so many decades. It is a bold story told in an unapologetically striking manner, and it certainly keeps the reader engrossed throughout. I just didn't connect with it the way I hoped, but that isn't a knock on the story, just on my ability to get more out of it.

I'm still a Stephen King novice at this point. I know he's written like a bajillion books, but I've only read a paltry two. Neither have been homeruns for me, so my search continues.

Readaroo Rating: 3 stars

Well, what a pleasant surprise! You must excuse me for saying so, but I didn't think Lucy Foley had it in her.

But first things first. I think what you'll get out of this book largely depends on your expectations. Obviously, this isn't Agatha Christie's Miss Marple. How can it be? Christie was a marvel of the mystery genre, with a sharpness in writing and clarity of resolution that's hard to match, let alone imitate. But that doesn't mean someone else can't come along and borrow one of her most beloved characters and have a little fun with it. And that's exactly what Murder at the Grand Alpine Hotel does.

The glorious, vintage setting, the wintry atmosphere, the effectively locked room all contribute to a murder mystery formula we know and love. The scene is set, the characters in play. What follows is what every good mystery must have—plenty of clues and twists, red herrings galore, and one dead body after another. And Miss Marple is there in the midst of the chaos, using her keen eyes and her deceptively fluffy appearance to unravel it all.

I honestly couldn't put this down once I started. I was thoroughly riveted. But was I ever confused into thinking I was reading vintage Christie there on the pages? No. Did I think Miss Marple had risen from the literary grave to laugh/knit one last time? Also no. In fact, there were many moments when I thought to myself, Miss Marple would never do or say such a thing. But for what it was—an homage to Agatha Christie with a modern twist, as well as a darn fun mystery—it did quite all right.

Everyone always wants to know about the reveal. Was it dumbfounding, gobsmacking, flabbergasting? Well, I think if you're an aficionado of the genre, I doubt you'll be taken completely unawares (and I wasn't). The story progressed in a specific way and I think you'll recognize it if you've read enough of these books. Also, in this case, the reveal lacked some of the crispness and clarity that Christie's has always been known for. But still, there were surprises to be had, and I can't complain too much when that's the case.

So back to my initial reaction for a second. I haven't had the greatest luck with Lucy Foley. She tends to favor interpersonal drama and excessive foreshadowing in her mysteries, leading to what I can only describe as anticipation fatigue and a whole lot of ado over nothing. Not to mention, this project of taking such a beloved character, as well as the seminal style of the genre, and trying to make it her own must not be easy. But clearly, I was wrong to doubt here, and I'll be the first to admit it.

At the end of the day, I think if you're a true Christie purist, this probably isn't going to cut it. It's really hard to capture the exact magic and je ne sais quoi that made the Queen of Crime so special in the first place. But if you're like me and you've read all your Agatha Christies and there's no more to be had and you'll take anything you can get, then this is well worth a gander.

"I’m glad he’s dead. Good riddance to bad rubbish.”

Readaroo Rating: 4 stars

Is there anything more fun than a murderous wedding? You add to that some horror and mayhem and a time loop, and well, my romantic heart just couldn't pass it up. So I tore into Kiss Slay Replay with glee and morbid fascination, certain I was about to have the time of my life.

Let's talk about the time loop first. Now I'm a big fan of that plot device, but if you're going to use it, don't dawdle. Since the time loop is never a surprise to the reader (it's usually heavily advertised beforehand, and in this case, it's printed right there on the cover), we already know going in that that's where the story's headed. So it's best to get there as soon as possible and have the protagonist be clued in, so we can get to the fun part of actually breaking the time loop. But if you drag that first part out, then it can start to feel a bit like slow going, and that's what happened here.

Speaking of protagonists catching on, Willa just isn't the brightest bulb in the shed. Even in the face of overwhelming evidence, she's in denial. I get it. In real life, if I were ever to get stuck in a time loop, I would be in denial too. But this isn't real life, and reading about such waffling and wallowing just isn't that enthralling.

And even after she's clued in, Willa still remains stuck there. In crucial moments when she could be breaking the time loop or running the heck away, we yet again find her doing her makeup for hours or ruminating about her ex and gazing into his eyes from across the room. At one point, she was supposed to be hiding quietly from a group of rabid something or other, but instead she gets into a loud argument. I mean, what can you say about such ridiculous behavior?

To Willa's credit, she does get there eventually since the book does end. But it was an uneven journey, with her alternatingly gathering up her courage, then losing it again to indecision and inaction. There was even a moment she said to herself, "Help how? I'm frozen. I'm useless," and I thought to myself, Girl, no truer words have ever been said.

So apparently, this is what's known as bubblegum horror. But I must be living under a rock cause this is the first time I've encountered it. I think the tone threw me off for a bit there. It was light and frothy, but then every time we get to the gore and violence, it was brutal. There was definitely some whiplash, but I adjusted eventually.

That all sounds very mixed, but I did have fun here. I thought the concept was interesting, every iteration of the time loop different enough to keep my attention, and Willa's self awareness of her shortcomings added a comedic slant to every frustration. Even when we get to the time loop explanation (which turned out to be the most jumbly word salad of scientific terms I've ever heard), it was more funny than anything else.

Now obviously, if you're stuck in a time loop, I wouldn't use this book as a blueprint on how to act. But if you're looking for some high stakes fun and gore, and especially if you're a fan of time loops, this isn't that bad of a choice.

Readaroo Rating: 3.5 stars

Oh boy. Sometimes you have to wonder, when a premise is so eye-catching, maybe there's just nowhere more interesting for the story to actually go?

The idea of this forgetting pill is what initially caught my attention. Landon is shocked and devastated when he learns that the love of his life Rose has decided to erase their entire love story by taking this pill. She's now living in Edinburgh and has moved on with her life, but Landon cannot. So he goes there to try to recreate their love a second time.

The narrative is dual timeline and dual point of view. Now, if you're familiar with dual anything, then you probably know where I'm going with this next. And yes, one of the two is indeed more interesting than the other. Rose's point of view, where she rehashes their original love story, is honestly a bit dull, and there wasn't much there other than physical attraction. Now, nothing wrong with physical attraction (I'm a big fan of it myself), but it doesn't make for a riveting read.

Not only that, but Rose possesses traits that I tend to find very annoying in a book. She shows no remarkable (or even likable) characteristics, yet everyone she meets instantly falls in love with her, including Landon and Poppy. From then on, no matter how difficult or mean she is, they remain steadfast in their devotion to her, bending over backwards to accommodate her every whim while she doesn't really do anything back. In fact, in the lead-up to the falling out between the main characters, Landon is the one who had to constantly apologize even though Rose was the one in the wrong.

Sigh. This tendency in recent contemporary novels to glorify the main female character while making everyone else around her bend to her will, however unreasonable or unlikable she may be, is exhausting. And so is the message that if one has mental health issues, it is perfectly okay to take it out on one's partner rather than go seek professional help (or even do some introspection). Both detract from what should've been a sympathetic protagonist, and both make me feel slightly uncomfortable while reading it.

But Landon's point of view wasn't all roses either (har har). While his storyline was more interesting, it did start to feel slightly icky as it went on. Because here is his beloved, having gone to so much trouble to forget and leave him behind, and he can't respect her boundaries. Could there be any circumstances in which that would be okay? But on the other hand, if one of our partners just one day up and vanished and forgot everything, would any of us really just sit back and accept it? I don't know, it's an interesting bone to gnaw on.

And so that gets to the crux of my biggest issue, which is that even though I got hooked on the premise, I probably should've thought about it a bit before diving in. Because if I did, I would've realized that while there are a few different ways the narrative could've play out, none of them were really appealing and some of them were quite problematic. And just like my imagination, it really did play out like that. The last portion of the story, as everything culminated and resolved, was quite a bit of a hot mess. It felt like the author didn't know where to go to wrap it up, so she tried to go everywhere at the same time.

This wasn't all bad. It did make me tear up in one place and there were a few passages that I thought were interesting. But for how emotionally charged the story was supposed to be, my investment felt lackluster. It wasn't that long of a book, yet I crawled through it, bogged down by my indifference to Rose and Landon.

At the end of the day, I think I just wasn't the right audience for this. If I were younger and just starting out on my adult life, maybe I would've found this to be profound. But I've long since aged out of that demographic, and now my cold, wizened heart just can't see past the characters to appreciate the speculative within.

Readaroo Rating: 3 stars