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.

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 go around and spell out what's been happening to everyone in the ten years since the last book. But it sure doesn't make for a scintillating read.

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 sentences, 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 original, yet it felt 10 times longer. The first book was pretty much a one-sit read, whereas you feel every single page of this one. It wasn't until about the last 100 pages that things started to happen and the plot finally revealed itself, but by then, it felt a little bit too late.

Sigh. Sometimes there just isn't enough in the premise. This one here felt weak from the very beginning and no amount of beloved characters and picturesque setting could save it. If there’s no substance, there’s no 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 a generic neighborhood drama, I would've found this to be decent or even good. But with my expectations being what they were, this just didn't cut it.

Still, I remain a fan of Liane Moriarty. Obviously, you can't expect an author 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 that 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

The second book in a stunning series, The Girl in the Tower is the chance to step back into the magical world of medieval Russia and reunite once again with one of my favorite literary heroines of all time.

What a joy it is to come face to face with Vasya. She is the embodiment of everything I adore in a female protagonist—clever, brave, strong of mind and spirit. We'd previously left off with her being forced to flee her village after saving her people from evil and being branded a witch in return. Now she intends to find freedom and adventure dressed as a boy for safety. But of course trouble finds her almost immediately.

And so we're off. Unlike the first book, which very much took its time to build out the atmosphere and the lore, this book didn't need such luxury. It took a few chapters to set the scene, and then we go right to the action. There is mystery and intrigue aplenty, with evil, villainy, and danger around every corner. And Vasya is right in the thick of things, never able to catch her breath once it gets going.

Watching Vasya grow and grapple here, as she matures into who she is meant to be, is a large part of this story's appeal. She's still the same feisty and courageous girl we've always known, but with age and experience comes confidence. There is so much adversity around her, yet she does not falter under its weight. In fact, she blossoms. When it comes to heroines you can cheer for, it doesn't get much better than this.

Katherine Arden has matured as a storyteller. Her lyrical, earthy passages bring this world into sharp relief, and her nuanced portrayal of Vasya's dilemmas and complicated relationships with those around her are the real emotional core of this book. Every time Morozko or Solovey enter the scene, they steal it with their quiet affection and steadfast loyalty to Vasya. In particular, the relationship between Morozko and Vasya is captivating, especially in the vast gulf of all that is unsaid and unrealized between them.

Which brings us to the romance. This series came out before the whole romantasy frenzy, before it had seemingly cannibalized the entire fantasy genre. And wow, was it a different world back then. Whereas now it often feels like fantasy must first and foremost be smut (and an excessive amount at that), back then the romance wasn't so in your face. It was more subtle, and as a result, more compelling. We feel so much yearning between Vasya and Morozko, yet the writing remained restrained and controlled. Every time these two characters were together, I couldn't help but want more (instead of cringing at the excess and hoping for less). And that's the way it should be.

There's something utterly enchanting about this series. Every moment feels like a dream, like a fairy tale of the most extraordinary caliber. To open its pages is to fall headlong into its magic, and I happily do so again and again.

Readaroo Rating: 4.5 stars

Horror has historically been a rocky genre for me. I feel like I always go in with such lofty expectations—excitement! creepiness! immersion!—and yet, what I get is hardly ever that. I find myself, more often than not, yawning my way through it, and so here we are again.

I can't fault the premise. A ghost ship floating around for two decades with hundreds of souls on board, all of them dead, and no one could find this ship until now? For a space-loving gal like me, you might as well be waving catnip (spacenip?) in my face. But alas, the premise was pretty much the highlight of the whole thing, and it didn't really get better from there.

If I had to put my finger on the biggest issue here, it would have to be its overreliance on being inside the main character's head and using her ruminations and indecision and paranoia as a way to drive the story forward. Ah, you're thinking to yourself, but isn't that what domestic thrillers do? And you'd be right, except not only is this not supposed to be a domestic thriller, but I'm not a fan of that genre for the same reasons.

So I was forced to endure what I would've thought twice about picking up, had I known what it was going in. And the more time we spent in Claire's head as she waffled back and forth, second-guessing herself, reliving over and over the trauma of her childhood, the less appealing I found her. There's something about spending paragraphs and pages in her head that just made my eyes glaze over and my neck droop.

You add to that all the time spent with the crew arguing back and forth on what to do, the detailed descriptions of the spaceship they found, and their careful searching of every room on that ship, and you might as well have shot me with a tranquilizer dart. I frequently caught myself nodding off, only to rouse again to check how far into the book I was, convinced I'd almost reached the end, then being dumbfounded at the realization that I somehow wasn't even halfway in.

Also, call me crazy, but I'm a firm believer that not every story has to have a romantic subplot, and this book is the perfect example of that. The attraction between Claire and Kane was distracting and quite frankly baffling. Because what could he possibly see in her as she freaks out and waffles about? And so the precious few brain cycles I should've been using to think about the mystery surrounding the spaceship was instead being commandeered into puzzling over what's going on with these two nutters.

Between all the shenanigans in Claire's head and the equally silly shenanigans between Claire and Kane, by the time we finally get to the unraveling of the spaceship mystery, it somehow came across anticlimactic. Maybe I didn't buy into the explanation. Or maybe it just felt like it was quickly glossed over so that we can get back to more silliness. Either way, I was left unfulfilled.

Derelict spaceships is such a classic scifi horror trope, with so much potential and possibilities, that the fact that not much came of this was terribly disappointing. Readers more used to domestic thrillers may find the excessive ruminating to be on par for the course. But those hoping for predominantly scifi and horror elements will probably be hard pressed to find satisfaction here.

Readaroo Rating: 3 stars

A poignant and luminously hopeful tale about the joys, mistakes, and repercussions of growing up and falling in love, Sunlight Finds You took my breath away from the first page to the last.

I'm always drawn to a good coming-of-age story, especially one with a fierce female protagonist. Here we have Nora, seventeen years old, when she meets shy and clever Leonard at school. Soon the two of them are inseparable, but this was the 1950s. Social norms clash with the exhilaration of young love, and they are forced to break off their relationship. What follows is a series of decisions and actions that Nora must take, the consequences of which she will feel for the rest of her life.

I opened this book to the first page and was immediately captivated. Nora made for a compelling main character, with her strong personality, her love for her family, and the impetuousness with which she fell for Leonard and he for her. It was a tale brimming with the optimism of youth and the headiness of young love, and I couldn't help but be swept away.

There was something about the quiet and reflective prose and the fascinating characters that made me forget what I was reading was completely made up. I was so immersed in this tale, I often didn't want to stop. I wanted to inhale it in one go, to sink in and not surface for air until I had reached the very end.

It was clever to structure the narrative as a much older Nora looking back on her younger life. Not only did it add insight, but it also showed how resilient Nora was in spite of all that befell her. That resilience was a large part of the charm of this tale, with its tone of grace and buoyancy turning this story from one of sadness into one of hope and redemption.

The story seamlessly weaved in and tackled so many worthwhile topics—societal norms, family dynamics, parental expectations, class and gender differences, grief, regret, and forgiveness—all of it done with a subtle and deft hand.

Recently, I've been picking up books about women in suburbia set during this time period, only to be disappointed with the results. So many books seem unable to make up their minds about what they want to say, often walking back at the last moment what they've been trying to accomplish up to that point. I'm glad that wasn't the case here. There was no wishy washy, no attempt to walk Nora back from all that happened to her. In fact, her strength in the face of pain and adversity is the whole point of this book.

What an absolutely irresistible story this turned out to be. Everything about it was so masterfully done, I'm still dazzled and reeling in the aftermath. I can't believe this was the first I've heard of Laura Moriarty. It's clear there'll be no stopping me now from digging through the rest of her backlist.

Readaroo Rating: 5 stars!

Meteorologists in love? Well, don't get too excited. Let's just say I would've had a better time sticking to my favorite weather blogs than whatever the heck I got here.

I have a lot of words to describe In Stormy Weather, but if I had to pick just one, it would be excessive. Everything is just so over the top—the characters, the romance, the storm chasing, the working in a male dominated field, even the spicy scenes. At some point, you have to wonder if subtlety is indeed dead or if this book was just out on a personal mission to kill it.

Where to begin? Quincy is a meteorologist in a field where literally every single other person is a guy (at least according to this book). And every time she has an interaction with them, they immediately look down on her and disparage her because she's a woman. Now, I'm a girl in STEM, so I know what it's like to be a female working in a male dominated field. But how can there not be a single male ally out there for Quincy except the love interest?

And so we start into what can only be described as slavish ass kissing on the part of Sebastian for the entire 400 pages of this book. Every time they get together, he calls her amazing and brilliant and resilient and yada yada yada. Like, I get it, girl is accomplished. But no real person talks like this unless they're aiming to be sycophant of the year.

Speaking of compliments taken too far, we also have Quincy's two BFFs. Every time the three girls are together, they first have to take turns complimenting each other on how amazing and successful they are, before we can move on. Like come on! How do these poor souls ever find the time to exchange any useful information, when they need to preface every single exchange with many platitudes of greatness?

This book was primarily written in dialogue form. It must take up at least 95% of all prose in here. But just because something has the potential to be banter doesn't mean it succeeds. The majority was so bland and, quite frankly, an obvious attempt at filler that I often caught myself losing focus and skimming, just to get to something good. You add to that the never ending reassurances between the characters on how successful and awesome and badass they all are, and you can see how this starts to feel like a slog.

Back to meteorology for a second (the main reason this book caught my eye). It is a science of predictions, so everything comes with a rate of confidence. But the way this book tells it, it's all black and white, and the only two people in the entire world who can make the right call are Quincy and Sebastian. And they do so by taking a millisecond glance at the data, followed by Sebastian goading Quincy into being a "badass bitch" and telling their discoveries to the world. As if having your lover "believe in you" is the only thing you need to be good at your job.

And don't even get me started on the spicy scenes (long to the point of cringey), page length (also long), the incessant Truth or Dare (inserted into every conversation), Quincy's credentials (having millions of followers on social media, which was brought up again and again), and the storm chasing (putting oneself and one's partner and potential rescuers' lives in danger, just to "prove" oneself). Like, have mercy!

Obviously, this book does not believe in the concept of subtlety. It has the bones of a good romance, but it was firmly buried under a tsunami of "rah rah go Quincy you're a girl" messaging that got real old real quick. And if someone's really that educated and accomplished and they still have to put their lives in imminent danger over and over again just to make themselves believe it, then probably the right place to work through that is in therapy and not through their lover and their friends complimenting them to death.

So there you have it. I probably would've had more fun just reading weather blogs, which I will go do right now.

Readaroo Rating: 2 stars

"Why aren’t we all just fucking dead, really? It is most troubling to me."

Ah yes, it has been a bit. But it also feels like no time at all has passed since I was last in the company of my favorite investigative duo.

There's nothing quite like picking up the second book of a promising series. Of course there's tons of excitement and anticipation, but if I were being totally honest, there's also no small amount of doubt coloring the whole thing. After all, what if I imagined my enjoyment of the first book? What if what I took for brilliance and intrigue was in fact mediocrity catching me on a good day? But have no fears here, my friends, for A Drop of Corruption was every bit as good as its predecessor.

Let's talk about the mystery first. As usual, we are immediately dropped into the thick of things. A treasury officer has disappeared, but he did so in a room where all the doors and windows are locked from the inside. Hmm, so a proper locked-room mystery? Challenge accepted!

But that was just the start, and perhaps the easiest part. Because from then on, Ana and Din follow an ever more complex web of secrets and red herrings and misdirections, all building up towards the big finale. And what a finale it was, as satisfying and inevitable as you would expect from the best mysteries.

Speaking of, if you've read enough of this genre and have thought about its inner workings, then you know what makes a good mystery—they can be as complicated and intricate as you'd want along the way, but when you get to the reveals, they must be clear and straightforward, as if you’re uttering nothing more than the unavoidable truth. And Robert Jackson Bennett has not only cracked the crux of this principle, but he is able to execute on it again and again.

The writing is as sharp and engaging as ever, with a hint of the droll wit that I've come to associate with this series and its characters. It pulled me in and kept me riveted throughout. Normally with a book, when I put it down and then picked it up again, it takes me a few pages to return to the world inside. But with this book, my mind snaps to it immediately, never wandering, never wavering as I devoured the tale within.

By the way, did we see that the series rebranded from Shadow of the Leviathan to Ana and Din Mysteries? I'm so glad. The old name felt a bit lumbering and awkward, misleading you into thinking that the books were predominantly fantasy instead of what they really are, which is mystery forward in a fantasy setting. But the new name corrects that, making it clear that this is first and foremost a mystery, with our eponymous characters at the helm, sussing out all manners of secrets and depravity across the Empire.

All that is to say, if you're a fan of mysteries and have been holding off on this series because of its fantasy element, let me give you a nudge. The mystery components in here are so well done, it would be remiss for any fan of the genre to miss it. But on the other hand, if you're already a reader of both genres and just haven't gotten to this series yet, well, what the heck are you waiting for?

Readaroo Rating: 5 stars!

To be honest, I thought Every Summer After did Charlie dirty. So I'm glad in One Golden Summer, he finally gets the story and the happily ever after that he deserves.

Cracking open this book and stepping back into Barry's Bay was a bit like coming home. I fell in love with this lakeside town during Sam and Percy's story, and was forlorn at the prospect of having to say goodbye. So when I heard there was a sequel, of course I jumped at it. To get the chance to visit Barry's Bay again and see Charlie's love story come to fruition seemed like a dream come true.

The progression of Alice and Charlie's relationship was surprisingly refreshing and relatable. It didn't quite fit with many of the exaggerated, well-worn romance tropes out there as is often the case with this genre. Instead, we have the simple story of boy meets girl, boy and girl are attracted to each other, but along with the intrigue also comes some reservations. And what follows is a friendship first, with benefits, that then blossoms into real love.

All the things that make a romance compelling—the yearning, the sizzle, the genuine connection—were here by the bucketful. And the things that readers usually cringe at—dramatic breakups and miscommunication—were kept to a minimum. Instead, we just have two authentic characters slowly and surely getting to know each other. And as we come to understand their reservations, they made sense and provided the necessary tension to move the story along without being too over the top.

There’s something about Carley Fortune’s writing that is instantly transportive. It's suffused with the sort of longing for the carefree days of youth that I think everyone can relate to. It's nostalgia at its purest form, a wistful affection for the lost days of summer that feels comforting and bittersweet at every turn. To read her books is to be swept away to a younger version of ourselves, one where the limitless possibilities of life still stretch out in front of us.

There is a keen awareness throughout the story of time and its forward march. Charlie's grief over the loss of his parents is a testament to that, as is Alice's bucket list for her seventeen year old self. And her work as a photographer, capturing brief moments and slices of life, was a way of trying to hold on to all that is fleeting and ephemeral. That awareness helped elevate the book to a new emotional height, one that kept me in its grips throughout.

This was a wonderful read. Fortune's nostalgia-tinted writing felt like magic. I laughed, I cried, I was swept away. This was first and foremost a romance, but it was also a love letter to Barry's Bay, a reverent nod to the golden days of summer, and a gentle reminder to live life to its fullest while we still can.

Readaroo Rating: 4 stars

A killer who only targets one specific address? Color me intrigued.

When it comes to thrillers, the premise matters a great deal. A good one serves as a natural jumping off point, one that gives the story room to breathe, room to grow, and ultimately, room to wrap up. The premise should encompass all the possibilities that follows, as well as allow for a progression of the narrative arc that eventually leads to a satisfying conclusion. And 138 Main very much took advantage of its terrific premise.

The format was in the vein of a police procedural, so we follow seasoned FBI agent Ben Walker and rookie Zoe Hill as they scramble to get one step ahead of the killer. Zoe, in particular, was a clever and likable main character, so her investigation made for a compelling read. As bad stuff starts to happen and we check in with victims and would-be victims living at the eponymous address, the sense of urgency and pressure really amps up.

From cover to cover, this was so much fun—it's fast paced, high stakes, lots of action, with the sort of interesting developments that kept me glued to my seat. When the buildup is so good, there's always a question about whether the story can deliver in the end, and it did so here, wrapping everything up neatly and with much satisfaction.

You can always hook me in with an intriguing premise, and they don't come any more enticing than this. If you're in the market for a book to get your adrenaline going, it's worth checking this one out. It's been coming in a bit under the radar, but it's exactly what I would want for a cinematic, high-octane thriller.

Readaroo Rating: 4 stars

Sorry to say, but the characters in The Shampoo Effect had the emotional intelligence of slugs, so it was hard to get into a story like that.

The premise was interesting enough. Caroline goes off to Greenhead to work on her writing and falls in love with local boy Van, who then introduces her to his ragtag group of close friends. But it soon comes out that his ex is pregnant with their child, and so chaos and hilarity ensues. Or rather, I thought hilarity would ensue. But instead, I just got a lot of whatever the female equivalent of bro vibes is and the sort of drunken idiocy I haven't seen since college frat parties.

All the characters in here were really something. Clueless, self-absorbed, mean and cliquey, they really embodied the worst of growing up (or not growing up, as the case may be). We follow them as they drank and did weed and mushrooms, acting like fools and occasionally throwing in a game of truth or dare just to liven things up. But lest you think this was a story about teenagers, they're actually adults in their thirties with children of their own.

And so the stupidity continues. The problems were real, but the way they dealt with them was distinctively immature. Everyone's favorite miscommunication trope was here in spades. Why say a simple sentence to your partner when you can hold it in for years? Why speak your mind when you can just smile and swallow your anger and let resentment fester? And so these hapless people carried on, unable to discern why they were unhappy with themselves and their partners.

This is written with an ensemble cast. And while I don't necessarily mind such a structure, it is imperative that each character feels distinct and stands out on their own. Otherwise, they all just blend together and you start having trouble keeping them apart. And unfortunately, that's what happened here.

When you have so many unpleasant, emotionally stunted characters, it can make the whole thing feel off-putting. What should've been a group of friends discovering themselves and growing wiser instead turns into a shallow spree of mean girls and guys learning lessons they should've figured out a decade ago.

Speaking of mean, at one point, the story references Mean Girls (one of the sharpest satires on the school experience from the female perspective), so I have to wonder if that was the author's intention. But without the humor and insight that made the film so successful, what we have left here was just... mean girls.

So I leave this review with a selection of quotes from the book, all of them gems.

She had checked her reflection and noticed, with complete horror, a hair poking from her chin. She had tried to grab it with her fingernails, but it had been futile, and so she’d spent the entire walk trying to hide her face.

She spent two hours studiously ignoring both the soccer and the other parents while she played with her phone. She knew it was antisocial, but she had real friends.

It was how they survived parenthood and life with small children: They took turns dosing themselves with weed, mushrooms, and booze, whatever made the hard edges softer.

Readaroo Rating: 2 stars

With no control and no means of escape, this made the first 122 seconds of flight the most dangerous part of any mission aboard the shuttle.

There is something so monumentally heartbreaking about the Space Shuttle Challenger disaster. Even though it happened many years ago, the grief surrounding it still lingers. Seven bright souls, who gave so much to be on the front lines of science and space, had their lives extinguished in a moment's eye.

Going into this book, my technical knowledge around the explosion was fairly scant—I knew there was a malfunction in an O-ring, a cheap piece of rubber meant to seal something vital in the solid rocket booster. But as it turns out, that was just part of the story, and maybe not even the most important part.

When you look at an undertaking like the Space Shuttle program, it's not an exaggeration to say that it's unbelievably complex, not just technically, but also the sheer scope of the project, the timeline, the numerous moving parts, and all the people involved—the engineers, the managers, and of course, the astronauts. Adam Higginbotham took this intricate, convoluted, often perplexing pile of information, and carefully and methodically broke it down, bringing this tragedy and its entire series of precipitating events to clarity.

This is narrative nonfiction at its best. Such a topic is not easy to tackle without it turning dry, but it never does so in the author's capable hands. Though this is as comprehensive as you can get, every page, every chapter, every moment of this story felt riveting. In fact, if you asked me, this was as exciting and thrilling and ultimately horrifying as the best of its counterparts in fiction, and the fact that it really happened only adds to the appeal.

One thing the book highlights is that when it comes to catastrophic failures like this, it is never just a one-time thing. It is often a series of mistakes, any one of which if examined and taken seriously and mitigated, would have likely led to a very different outcome. But instead, each mistake and the warning it carried of impending doom was allowed to stand, incorrectly assessed as safe and acceptable, until we reached the point of no return.

The hubris of NASA and Morton Thiokol laid down in these pages was hard to take. The managers at these two organizations viewed each lucky escape (and there were many of them when it came to the O-rings) as yet another sign of their wisdom in pushing ahead with the missions, instead of what it actually was, which is a harbinger of larger problems to come. We obviously know what is going to happen and they do not, yet we must follow along as they blunder and congratulate themselves, all the while inching closer and closer to disaster.

The mechanical tolerances between each segment of the rocket were so tight that the smallest contaminant caught between the O-ring and the metal faces of the joint—a fleck of lint, a single human hair—could cause a leak.

But it is not all hopeless. Even in this toxic environment, there were engineers who did the right thing. They spoke up and went against their colleagues and management, they worked hard to find solutions to the O-ring problems, and when the crucial moment came, they sounded the alarm and did all they could to try to call off the launch. I am glad, at least in these pages, that they are given the recognition they deserve.

Maybe the biggest thing that stands out to me here is that this tragedy felt inevitable. If not this instance, then it would've happened to a different shuttle and a different mission and a different crew somewhere down the line. Because the underlying issue wasn't technical, it was human. The insidious attitudes of the people calling the shots, the callous disregard for safety, the complete and utter breakdown in communications, those are all things that are hard to fix, even after the O-rings no longer pose a problem.

The book closes out on a note of hope but also a warning. The Space Shuttle program after the Challenger explosion proceeded safely for 17 years, before Columbia blew up on reentry in 2003, yet again plagued by the same sort of miscommunication, complacency, and management brushoffs that brought down its sister ship so many years prior. The point of history is so we don't have to repeat the same mistakes again, yet we do.

And so as we look towards a new era of space exploration with Artemis and beyond, the crux of this book and its cautionary tale within remains—have we really learned our lesson?

"The crew of the Space Shuttle Challenger honored us by the manner in which they lived their lives. We will never forget them, nor the last time we saw them, this morning, as they prepared for their journey and waved goodbye and slipped the surly bonds of earth to touch the face of God."

Readaroo Rating: 5 stars!

DNF - You know what they say, there's a first time for everything. And so A Psalm for the Wild-Built gets the ignominious distinction of going down as the first time ever I've given up on a novella, because I honestly can't stand to go on for another page.

There's something about Becky Chambers' writing that just doesn't work for me. How to describe it? Obviously, I know she writes cozy, so I try to align my expectations accordingly, but that's not quite it. Rather, it feels like everything is filler in service of a broader message. There's so much description and so much information, yet there is no point in knowing any of it. It's like all worldbuilding and setup, but the whole story consists of nothing but that.

Put another way, stories are normally either character driven or plot driven, and I happily accept both. But here, the characters aren't fleshed out and there's no plot whatsoever. Instead, the writing feels predominantly message driven, which I have a lot of trouble with. My mind keeps blanking out because I'm not actually reading anything of substance, so I can't retain any of it, no matter how hard I try.

It honestly pains me to finally get to an author everyone else is raving about, only to find out unequivocally that they are not for me. I have now read two Becky Chambers (her two most popular ones) and both were DNFs for me. That is about the worst I have ever done, but it is what it is. At least now I know for certain and no longer have to wonder if I'm missing out on anything.

Readaroo Rating: 2 stars

DNF - I think I started with the wrong Becky Chambers, because what in the galaxy is going on here? Or rather, not going on?

I knew before I started that this was a cozy, but I didn't realize cozies could be so low stakes as to be no stakes. So far, we've met every single resident on the spaceship, each overly friendly and sweet in their own way. We've also engaged in thinly veiled lessons on not making assumptions about other cultures and how every person can be beautiful no matter what they look like, along with an in-depth discussion about AI sentience and autonomy.

That's all great, don't get me wrong. But where is the tension, the plot, the anything? So far, my jaw's been getting a good workout from excessive yawning, but that's about it.

It's totally possible that if I kept going, this would've grabbed me eventually. But in my effort not to put myself into reading slumps, I think I'm going to call it. I'm not giving up on Becky Chambers just yet though. I'm going to move on to her novellas and see if they're more my speed.

Readaroo Rating: 3 stars

Before I go on, I just want to point out that I see nothing but glowing reviews for this book, so please keep that in mind. My thoughts are definitely in the minority, and I'll try my best to unpack them all here.

When it comes to literary fiction, it can be tough right out of the gate because they don't rely on plot the way genre fiction does. Instead, they draw you in with their complex characters and beautiful writing and ultimately, profound insight into human nature. So when I don't get any of that, it can be hard for me to connect with the story.

Let's start with the characters. I feel like we're always drawn to stories where the characters mirror the phase of life we're currently in. And so that was the case with April and Leo for me—they've been married for many years and have young children. This phase comes with a lot of excitement, no doubt, but it also brings unique challenges, so I was particularly curious to see how the characters would tackle them.

But almost immediately, I started having trouble. The characters don't come across as quite real. Or rather, they feel more like generalizations of what people in these situations would do and say, rather than actual individuals. There's an oversimplification and shallowness to their issues, feelings, and actions that started from almost the first page and became more and more pronounced as the story progressed, until I could no longer shrug it off.

And because the characters were stereotypes, the story followed that trajectory too. At every moment, what you think would happen does indeed happen. There were no real surprises, no actual revelations. And while I don't read a story like this for its twists and turns, I do read it for its insight, and there were none to be found here.

The writing style didn't help. Every scene of significance was followed up with tons of commentary about how the character thinks and feels, thereby telling you the reader how you should think and feel too. It is essentially telling thinly disguised as showing, and I'm not a fan. I always prefer understated writing, and this type of overwritten, overexplanatory fluff makes me feel like the author doesn't trust me enough to follow along.

When you put those sorts of characters and that type of writing together, what you end up with is a whole lot of clichés. And so as the story progressed and the stakes became higher, so did the amount of platitudes we were hit with over and over again.

This is also told via multiple points of view, and it was probably one too many. There was the central issue, which was April and Leo's house burning down along with their marriage. And then there was Deb and Billy's issue, which was really a separate storyline altogether. But by putting so many people and multiple big problems into one book, it means that there really isn't the necessary space for in-depth exploration and we get only surface level treatment across the board.

I also have to specifically call out April and Leo's marriage problems, which was at the crux of this story. I get what the author was trying to do. She was trying to show us that in a relationship, each person brings their own baggage into it and bad feelings can fester over time. But what actually transpired was just a whole lot of miscommunication. Or rather, a willful lack of communication on Leo's part, which he uses to stonewall and gaslight his wife at the lowest point of her life.

Please. The number of stories I have read in recent years in which authors try to pass off toxic relationships driven by one person as an all-parties-are-equally-at-fault extravaganza has got to stop. April, you need to run away. And Leo, you need to go to therapy. And all you readers who loved this book isn't going to convince me otherwise.

I'm looking at the sea of glowing reviews and can only imagine the problem is me. At the end of the day, I never really connected with the characters in this book. And when it comes to character-driven stories, that's pretty much the only thing that matters.

Readaroo Rating: 3 stars

When you talk about elderly do-gooders sticking their noses where they don't belong and sussing out nefarious killers and ne'er-do-wells, you have to admit that Jane Marple is about as OG as they get.

It's been a bit since I've read a Miss Marple—almost seven years now—so I can be forgiven for failing to remember just how much I adore her. There is something about her fluffy mannerisms and her piercing insight into human nature that makes for a thoroughly delightful combination. In fact, even though Poirot is the most famous Agatha Christie detective, I suspect many of us secretly like Miss Marple a lot more, myself included.

Because Miss Marple is an amateur sleuth and not an official one, her stories feel a lot more organic compared to Poirot's. The mysteries unfold naturally around her, and we get to know all the players in the course of the narrative without them having to be hauled in for interviews one by one in a repetitive fashion. As such, her stories align much more with the flow of contemporary books, making them come across less dated and more timeless.

Speaking of modern, this one in particular reminds me a lot of neighborhood thrillers, just without the wacky twists and psychological melodrama you'd expect from more contemporary offerings. And just like its modern counterpart, every character in here has something to hide, and the lies and secrets pile up pretty quickly.

Agatha Christie writes with no frills. There is a simplicity and directness to her writing that belies the complex mystery underneath. After all, if everything appears straightforward, where possibly could the clues hide? And yet, she gets me good every time. No one does misdirection and red herrings quite like her, and no matter how I prepare myself, I keep falling into her traps.

Needless to say, I had lots of fun with this one and that's not just for an old book. The characters were interesting, the dialogue zippy and droll, and the situations sly winks to the predictability and folly of human nature. Agatha Christie might have written Miss Marple to be the keen observer of people, but underneath, it's really the author who is so.

Now obviously, if you've read Agatha Christie, then you don't need me over here making recommendations on books you already know. But if you haven't read her yet and you're a fan of neighborhood thrillers, let me submit this one for your consideration. It's a classic for a reason, and then you'll know what the fuss is all about.

"It is a mystery to me how anyone ever gets any nourishment in this place. They must eat their meals standing up by the window so as to be sure of not missing anything."

Readaroo Rating: 4 stars