True storytelling has always been one of the few great things humanity could produce that no automation could.

Wow. It is not often I am without words, but Death of the Author has left me speechless and astounded.

I don't even know how to talk about this book because it isn't like anything else I've ever read. I'm going to try to come at it from a few different angles, so bear with me as I get my thoughts and feelings untangled here.

First, the genre. This is the perfect symbiosis of science fiction and contemporary lit. (If you're already thinking to yourself, huh? Yeah, like I said, you haven't seen anything like it before.) We alternate between the story of the writer, Zelu, and the story within the story of the robots, and each is its own riveting tale.

Zelu's narrative is instantly arresting. There is a lot going on, so I imagine every reader will bring their own experiences into it and take away something different. Racism, ableism, fame, social media, societal and familial pressure, the immigrant experience in general and the Nigerian American experience in particular were all integrated seamlessly and explored deftly within this compelling narrative.

Zelu is so richly drawn, she just leaps off the pages. You don't see many books featuring disabled main characters, so my interests were instantly peaked. Then the more I got to know her, the more dynamic and fierce she became. I wouldn't say she is particularly likable, but she's undeniably fascinating. And this narrative is her journey of formation and transformation, her coming of life, if you will.

Then we arrive at my favorite part of the book, and that is the robot story. (Come on now, you know how much I love sci-fi, so you can't possibly be surprised.) I adored every minute of this science fiction journey. It was such a creative tale through and through, embedded with social and political commentary relevant to our times. Every scene felt both captivating and profound, and it evoked such WALL E-esque feelings in me.

What does it mean to hold onto humanity when there are no humans left? And can the power of storytelling transcend those who invented it? Those are the questions Ankara the robot faces as she traverses a post-human apocalyptic world to make sense of herself and what's around her.

I know a lot of people think science fiction is inaccessible, but to me, the best of this genre always zeroes in on precisely what it means to be human. It encompasses our hopes and dreams, our emotions, our faith, and our will to survive. And so this story does too.

With her clear, precise prose, Nnedi Okorafor is able to hold a multitude of emotions within her sentences. They evoke feelings of love and conflict, logic and passion, nostalgia for the past but also hope for the future. To write a story partially from a robot's point of view and to inject so much emotion into the whole thing is nothing short of remarkable.

To experience this story and to see the two narrative strands weave back and forth, reflected in each other, as they slowly grow closer and closer, is to watch a master storyteller in action. And that ending, goodness me. I'm going to need many moments (days, weeks, months) to think on it and then think on it some more.

You know that feeling you get when you're in the midst of an extraordinary book, where every page causes goosebumps on your arms and tingles to run up and down your spine? And the moment you're done, you just want to go back to page one and start all over again? Well, that's this book right here.

More than anything, this pays homage to the power of storytelling. If you're a reader—and surely we all are—then this book comes as close as any to put into words why we read and what stories do for our hearts and our souls.

“I feel satisfied, but also not. It reminds me of myself, but it is not about me. I feel like I’ve met those I have never met. I’m thinking things I never thought before. I have many questions. Will you help me understand this?”

A singular and audacious tale deserving of all the praise. Surely one not to be missed.

Readaroo Rating: 5 stars!

Gideon would come for her, and when he did, Rune would be ready.

Okay, this would have to be the enjoyable witchy story I've read in quite some time.

Rune Winters is a witch, but no one can find out. For in the New Republic, to admit to being a witch is tantamount to treason, punishable by having your throat slit and strung up to bleed out in the public square. Rune watched her beloved grandmother die this way, and she can't stand by and do nothing while others suffer the same fate . But she's going up against the Blood Guard, an elite group of soldiers bent on purging witches. And their captain, Gideon Sharpe, is the most lethal of all. In order to save others of her kind, she'll have no choice but to seduce him and gain his confidence.

When we're talking about enemies-to-lovers (in my opinion, one of the most interesting tropes out there), I often feel like the enemy part isn't taken very seriously. In place of real enemies, you're more likely to come across weak rivals or even snarky acquaintances, who are then forced to interact in ever more outlandish ways in order to satisfy the "enemy" trope. So you can imagine my surprise and delight when Rune and Gideon turned out to be actual enemies, with good reason to hate each other and want each other dead. Well then, let the games begin, shall we?

I love it when a story grabs you right off the bat, and Heartless Hunter does just that. There's no awkward worldbuilding, no confusing backstories. Right from the first page, we're sucked into the thick of things and it doesn't stop from there. The magical system is clear and easy to understand so we can focus on the good stuff, and that's what's happening between Rune and Gideon.

The witch and the witch hunter must engage in a cat and mouse game in which each is trying to outmaneuver the other. Both are committed to their cause and believe it's worth fighting to the death for. To mess up is to face deadly consequences, so the stakes could not be higher. You then sprinkle in a bit of attraction between the two, and how could I not be riveted?

But I don't want to overemphasize the romance part because I think that undersells the story and it isn't the main reason why I found it so interesting. It's the matching of the wits and how the two enemies must always stay one step ahead of the other. In particular, I loved Rune's character and how she approached the obstacles in her way. She's smart and courageous in face of overwhelming odds, and she's exactly the sort of heroine I get excited about.

The only thing I'm a little surprised by is that this is marketed as young adult. The violence, the themes, and the sexual content all seem pretty on par with any adult fantasy I've ever read, and it even has one spicy scene. The only young adult part of it is the age of the characters, so just be aware if that concerns you.

I wouldn't say this story treads new ground, but what it does, it does supremely well. It was such a fun and entertaining read from beginning to end, and I can't wait to get to the sequel.

Readaroo Rating: 4 stars

You dangle ancient Egyptian curses in front of me, and I'm going to sign up every time. But I feel like The Stolen Queen wasn't quite what I was expecting.

At its core, this is more of a found family and coming-of-age story than anything else. Its characters were its strongest component, and it was satisfying to follow Charlotte through her archeological journey and Annie through her Met Gala adventures while seeing them gain confidence and grow into themselves.

Another thing the story got right was the atmosphere, from the dusty ancient archeological sites to the hushed reverence of the Met to the glamour and excitement of its party of the year. It makes you feel like you are really there.

While the story did keep me engaged throughout, I wouldn't say it was unputdownable at any point. The dual timeline is really more of a triple narrative, with Charlotte and Annie both in the present and Charlotte also in the past. That means anytime we build up momentum, we immediately switch to a different scene, which has the effect of slowing the pacing down.

Of course the Egyptian slant with its ancient history and antiquities and curses is what really drew me to this story in the first place. But before you get too excited, you should know there are no actual paranormal events in here. This takes place solidly in our physical world, and so all mysteries are precipitated by human actions.

If I were to point to one thing that fell short for me in here, it's that everything comes across just a smidge too superficial and wrap up a bit too nicely. There is this persistent feeling that nothing is on the line, that everything will work out for everyone. And because of that, it lacks the all-important tension that really propels a story forward and keeps the reader glued to the pages.

Nevertheless, I think historical fiction fans will find this enjoyable, and the ancient Egyptian angle certainly adds a compelling note to the whole thing. Just make sure you set expectations correctly going in that this is really more cozy than thrilling.

Readaroo Rating: 3.5 stars

You know what, ironically, makes readers care about who has written the book? A pseudonym.

Hmm really? Cause that's not been my experience.

If you know me, you know my usual complaint with books is that they have intriguing premise and lackluster execution. But in this case, we have the opposite problem. The Three Lives of Cate Kay's weak premise makes it hard for the story to go anywhere. And so in order for interesting things to happen, we're forced to watch characters behave in artificial and forced ways, all in the service of having a story at all.

To my absolute consternation, the dreaded miscommunication trope runs amok in here. Every time I see it in a book, I can feel my eyeballs roll to the back of my head. But this story really takes it to town with its liberal and quite frankly, shameless usage. The entire plotline hinges on these pointless misunderstandings that could easily be cleared up, if only the characters behaved in ways that actually made sense.

But really, all the interactions were a little bit off. Everyone was obsessed with the main character, latching onto her the moment they meet her and fighting for her attention. She comes off the pages as pedestrian and even a bit unlikable at times, yet the story makes her out to be super special. The other points of view don't feel genuine either, too polished and into Cate Kay to really be authentic.

There were so many moments sold as insightful or momentous, yet it all felt like much ado about nothing. Like we'd be told how readers really care who the author is behind a book, but do they? Or how profound "cosmic bigness" is, but okaaay? Or what a clever name Cate Kay is, but I keep mispronouncing it as Cat Kay in my head? (That last one might be just me.)

Even the book within a book didn't match its lofty promise. Here is a supposedly bestselling book, one in which the world is in such a frenzy over that everyone is dying to find out who the author is behind the pseudonym. Yet every passage quoted is so drab and dull, I find it hard to believe this could've caught any reader's attention, let alone the entire world.

So it's all these seemingly little things, sprinkled in everywhere, that add up to make me feel unable to buy into this story. There is a cognitive dissonance here that always reminds me what I'm reading isn't real, that these characters are fake. And at the end of the day, when you're talking about a fictional memoir, the characters are the only thing that really matter. If I can't connect with them, then I just can't connect with the story.

Readaroo Rating: 2.5 stars

Can you really fill 500 pages with nothing but posturing and dithering, and call it a book? Apparently you can.

What the heck happened here? Was Rebecca Yarros kidnapped and an imposter wrote this book? Did she crack under the pressure and had to ChatGPT it? Because this doesn't resemble at all the series I've come to know and love, and I'm left pretty speechless (well, not so speechless that I can't rant).

Let's start by asking the most crucial question of all: did anything of consequence actually happen in this book? And the answer is unfortunately no. No plot was furthered, no stakes were raised. In fact, the end of the book is where I thought it would begin, so you can imagine my bewilderment at all the pages in between.

So what were these hundreds of pages filled with? Endless scenes of Violet and Xaden declaring how much they love each other (yeah, we get it) while throwing a fit at anyone who dare disagree (wah wah), interspersed with political intrigue that didn't amount to anything (who are these randos?) and quests that didn't amount to anything either (who even cares).

Where is the tension of the first book? Where are the jaw-dropping reveals of the second? But what the third book lacks from the first two, it amply made up by being inexplicably confusing. There were so many needless characters and locations mentioned, none of which really mattered. I kept flipping back and forth to the map, trying and failing to discern what it is I'm meant to take away from those moments.

Every scene in the first book felt essential and memorable, and the same could be said for the second book (minus the ones related to Violet and Xaden's mind-numbing conflicts). And yet, I come to a close on the third book and can hardly point to even one thing in here that stood out. Honestly, I barely remember what happened because nothing actually did.

And in place of real developments, we get non-reveals disguised under intentionally obscure writing. Instead of calling something or someone by its name, we get treated to vague pronouns like "it", "he", and "she", only for the subject to be divulged many pages later once the reader is good and befuddled. And each time this happened, it was treated like a reveal, as if we readers are too dumb to notice we've been had.

Violet and Xaden's interactions border on insufferable in here. What made their relationship compelling in the first book was the intrigue of enemies-to-lovers. That quickly started wearing thin in the second book, and by the time we get to this one, all the shine had fallen off. The trope is over and done with two books ago, so why is Yarros still harping on it? After all, there's a reason why lovers-who-can't-stand-to-be-apart isn't a trope, and it's because no one wants to read that whiny crap.

Just to cement how far this has deviated from the series I love, we only need to look at the end of this book. What I expected was to be wowed by a supremely shocking development on the fantasy side, something to tide me over for the next however many years it will take Yarros to write the next book. Instead, we get a trivial update on Violet and Xaden's relationship, presented as if it's the sort of epiphany that will keep me coming back for book 4. No, thanks.

At one point while trudging through this, I started to doubt myself and my love for the series, wondering if I'd imagined the whole thing and was just caught up in the hype. Then in a moment of confusion, I went to look something up in the first book and was immediately and thoroughly sucked in, only managing to tear myself away two hours later. Reading them side by side, the difference in the quality and immersiveness of the two books is stark and dispiriting. And when I would rather reread a book I'd already read in the series than the shiny new installment, you know something is terribly wrong.

Which brings us to the question of why does this book even exist in the first place. Did Yarros think this was an essential tale that needed to be told, but it somehow went off the rails during the writing process? Did she take inspiration from Peter Jackson and The Hobbit and try to squeeze as many books as possible out of the smallest amount of content? Or did she get talked into a five-parter by her publishing team against her better judgement? Whatever the reason, I can't help but think this book is such a poor showing, surely many of her readers will not continue from here.

It isn't just that this book is filler. It's that it's such trite, garbled, confused filler as to make me lose confidence in the author and her ability to deliver the rest of the series. This book not only reeks of confusion for the reader, but it also seems like Yarros herself is confused too, as if even she doesn't know where her series is going. And that is disheartening indeed.

When I first started this series, I went in with some trepidation. Rebecca Yarros comes from a romance background, so I thought there was a chance she wouldn't be able to balance fantasy and romance in the same story. I was afraid that she would prioritize the romance to the detriment of the fantasy, and three books in, my worst fears are realized. Maybe her original fanbase is thrilled by this book, but as a reader who got hooked on Fourth Wing primarily because of its fantasy badassery—dragons, signets, heroes and heroines, you name it—this book doesn't deliver any of what I wanted.

Readaroo Rating: 2 stars