Dark and Shallow Lies (Book Review)

To be totally honest, the premise of Dark and Shallow Lies by Ginny Myers Sain didn’t really catch me. Setting-heavy fiction isn’t something that particularly appeals to me, and the witchy small-town Louisiana setting is a major selling point of this one. Still, I had to read it for work so I did. Considering that the last two books I had to read for work were All of Us Villains by Amanda Foody and Christine Lynn Herman and Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow by Gabrielle Zevin, Dark and Shallow Lies had a lot to live up to. Unfortunately, I’m not sure it did. It’s fine, but it’s nothing to write home about.

What’s it about?

Grey was born in La Cachette, Louisiana, a town full of psychics and secrets, but after her mother’s death she lives with her father and returns to La Cachette only in the summertime. This summer is different, however; her best friend (and “twin flame”) Elora has disappeared and is presumed dead even though no body has been found. Grey, spurred on by what are possibly psychic visions of the night Elora disappeared, becomes obsessed with solving the mystery of Elora’s disappearance… and, with it, the drownings of two other children a decade before. 

What’d I think?

⭐⭐⭐⭐

Rating: 3.5 out of 5.

I liked the setting. As I said above, I don’t personally care all that much about setting. I’m not a visual person and I’ve moved often enough that to me, one place is pretty much like another. Even with that in mind, I can see that Sain did a good job with La Cachette. The town’s closeness and culture absolutely inform the story, and give it a distinct feeling. The mysteries could not occur in the same way anywhere else, because they are tied inextricably to both the magic of the town and the tight-knit, claustrophobic community. The thin lines between truth and fiction further feed the confusion, and Sain’s brief inclusion of Cajun culture and Louisiana dialect are welcome.

I liked the pacing. I expected Dark and Shallow Lies to be a fantasy novel, but it reads like a thriller. I thought the magical powers were going to play a bigger part, and while they’re important they contribute more to the overall vibe than the plot. As Grey investigates Elora’s disappearance, she uncovers secret after unsettling secret, many of which ask her to reevaluate the things she knew best: the intentions of people she loves, the lore of her town, even her relationship with Elora. The story builds bigger with each chapter, and there’s never long between twists, meaning that this is a novel that keeps you reading. I wanted to read through this quickly because book club was looming and I hadn’t even started that book yet, but I was able to make it through this one in a day and a half because it is so fast-moving and exciting.

I didn’t like the obviousness of some of the false leads. This point doesn’t need much farther elaboration, but I’m going to give some anyway. Grey chases down some leads that I could tell immediately were red herrings. I always like when the author lays a track that the reader can follow if they’re paying attention, but this was a little too easy. One of the biggest *gasp here* moments was something I’d predicted in the first few chapters, and I was unshakably onto the most suspicious players long before Grey turned any attention towards them. I narrowly missed predicting the actual murderer, but I’ll get into that in the marked spoiler section.

10 Things I Can See From Here (Book Review)

I remember that I used to be terrible at picking books for myself. I’d go to the library and grab a bunch of books that I thought I’d like and then I absolutely hated them. I’ve finally gotten the hang of it. Now, most of the time, I find great books to read. Of course, I read copious book reviews now and take recommendations only from people I trust. I’ve gotten complacent, I guess, because sometimes I’ll grab a book randomly just because it caught my eye. That’s how I ended up with 10 Things I Can See From Here by Carrie Mac. Thankfully it came from the library and not from the bookstore, because this book? Terrible.

Report Card: F/⭐

What’s it about?

When Maeve’s mother goes to Haiti with her older boyfriend for a six-month job, Maeve heads up to Vancouver to stay with her father—a recovering alcoholic—and his family. Maeve doesn’t want to go; she loves her mother, but more than that, she has crippling anxiety and doesn’t like the idea of living somewhere new.

What’d I think?

I thought I’d like 10 Things I Can See From Here mostly because I thought I’d relate to the protagonist. I’m anxious a lot of the time and I thought that it would be refreshing to read about someone who worries too much. I did not relate to Maeve, and I didn’t like anything about this book. I don’t want to expend any more time or brainpower on this book, so instead of a straightforward review like I usually write, I’m just going to write a list of my main grievances.

Finding Yvonne (Mini Book Review)

Finding Yvonne by Brandy Colbert has all the elements needed to be a great read, and while I did like it quite a lot, I didn’t love it as much as the set-up suggested I might.

It’s about the daughter of a phenomenally successful chef who, after dedicating her youth to music, realizes that she’s not talented enough to be a professional violinist and loses her passion for it. Her older almost-boyfriend is also a supremely talented cook, and Yvonne doesn’t know how to live with mediocrity. When she meets Omar, another violinist, she feels a connection–both to him and to music–that she’s been lacking.

I liked the writing. Colbert has a light but mature tone. She seamlessly integrates fascinating socioeconomic elements into stories that at first glance seem to be straightforward romances. The dialogue alone gives great insights into the character, and there’s an ideal balance between showing and telling. Clearly a lot of craft went into writing Finding Yvonne, but it’s not obvious. It’s an easy read, but a good one.

I didn’t like some of the plot points. I don’t want to get into the specifics, because doing so would be way too spoilery, so I’ll just say that there are some late developments that I didn’t care for. It’s nothing against Finding Yvonne specifically, because the twists are executed exceptionally well. It’s a personal preference. Some storylines I’ll always like, and some will always fall a little flat for me. That, more than anything else, is the difference between Finding Yvonne (which I liked) and Little and Lion (which I loved): the former includes storylines I rarely get invested in, and the latter tells stories I find naturally interesting.

I really liked the friendship between Yvonne and her best friend Sabina. The two girls are really different, but they compliment each other really well. Even though they have different backgrounds, life goals, and ideas about sex and relationships, there’s no questioning their closeness. Even when they fight, they do so in a very supportive, loving way that is really great to read.

I didn’t like the pacing at the end. About three fourths of the way through the novel, the pace picks up considerably. Several conflicts are introduced and solved quickly, and it’s a bit disappointing since the writing and pacing up until that point is excellent. Furthermore, the novel is so short that no one would begrudge an extra fifty pages or so pages that could’ve fleshed everything out.

I liked how Yvonne’s journey to self-discovery comes through her falling out of love with her violin. When she realizes that she isn’t good enough to become a professional musician, Yvonne struggles with what that means for the rest of her life. Does she quit? Does she keep playing with lowered expectations? Who is she without her music? It’s a really well-done storyline. Is there anyone out there who can’t relate to that? Life puts a lot of pressure on people to be the best, but not everyone can be the best (and it’s even harder for people, like Yvonne, who are surrounded by success stories). Coming to terms with the fact that something is going to have to be a hobby, and not something central to your life, is tough. This storyline hits especially hard for me, because I spent a lot of my life playing the violin. I was never as into it as Yvonne, and I never expected to make a career out of music, but watching Yvonne realize that she’s not good enough for a future in music and that she doesn’t love it quite enough to get that good was quite powerful.

I didn’t like the age gap with the characters. Both Yvonne’s love interests are notably older than her, and while Colbert approaches the age gaps more tactfully than most, it still struck me as squicky.

I didn’t love Finding Yvonne like I did Colbert’s other novel Little and Lion, but I continue to be impressed by her writing. Finding Yvonne is a superbly written bildungsroman that suffers only from a few pacing issues at the end.

B/⭐⭐⭐⭐

Nick and June Were Here (Book Review) ⭐⭐⭐

I have mixed feelings about Nick and June Were Here by Shalanda Stanley. It’s a pretty standard YA romance in terms of how much I liked versus how much I didn’t like, even though that are elements of the novel (specifically June’s situation) that I haven’t seen elsewhere in fiction. It comes close to being an excellent book, but unfortunately it’s too committed to its central romance to realize that it’s the weakest part of the book.

What’s it about?

Roughly, the novel follows June and her boyfriend Nick. June has started to experience troubling and disorienting mental issues, and she’s afraid that addressing them will derail the future that she’s planned, so she swears Nick (and her best friend Bethany) to secrecy. Nick has his own problems: he’s a car thief and has been since he inherited his incarcerated father’s debt.

What’d I think?

I didn’t like that whoever wrote the cover-flap summary for Nick and June Were Here spoiled it massively. Admittedly there’s not a lot of action in the front half of the novel, but still. June doesn’t get her diagnosis until, like, 2/3 of the way through the novel, and the other significant plot element included in the summary happens after that. Other things happen before that, so there was no need to pack the summary full of major spoilers. My summary may not be particularly good, but it doesn’t give anything away; surely someone whose job it is to write these summaries should be able to do better.

I liked that Stanley takes a mature approach to June’s mental illness. Although the novel never gets bogged down with June’s diagnosis, and June is never reduced to her label, it is still central to the novel and June’s experience. For much of the story, I was afraid that everything was going to get hand-waved with the typical love conquers all baloney, but it doesn’t. June and Nick think that their love will be enough to keep June safe, but it isn’t, and eventually they have to address it.

I didn’t like Nick, but I liked Bethany. Romances are made or broken by their central relationship, and I simply never understood what June sees in Nick. He’s a Bad Boy. He steals cars and also he likes art (because that makes him deeper, or something). Aside from that, he doesn’t have much personality. Yes, I understand that his bad circumstances trapped him in a situation without many options, but still. He’s in and out of juvie. He never shows up to school even when there’s no reason why he can’t. He’s simply not a reliable person for anyone except Benny, the man for whom he steals cars.

He paints blackbirds on June, but that’s it in terms of ‘reasons why June likes Nick.’ His POV chapters failed to make me feel for him, and it was frustrating to see June pin her hopes and dreams on someone who so obviously won’t be there for her. It’s even worse because Bethany is there. Bethany is great. She’s June’s best friend, so close she’s basically a sister. Bethany is always there for June. She’s supportive and fun, and, unlike Nick, she fits into June’s future and never endangers her.

The Music of What Happens (Book Review) ⭐⭐⭐⭐

The Music of What Happens is the second novel by Bill Konigsberg that I’ve read—the first being Openly Straight—and I think that Konigsberg has definitely improved between the two novels.

What’s it about?

Aside from the fact that they’re both gay and attend the same school, Max and Jordan have nothing in common. Max is a popular half-Mexican jock who lives with his super-competent mom because his dad left to be a third-rate comedian . Jordan is an emo poet who is about to lose his home after the death of his father. They are thrown together unexpectedly when Max happens across Jordan and his mother just as they’re failing to relaunch Jordan’s late father’s food truck. Jordan’s mom bails, leaving Jordan and Max to man the truck and keep Jordan’s home even though neither of them knows the first thing about running a food truck.

What’d I think?

I liked the relationship between Max and Jordan. It unfolds slowly but surely as the two get to know each other. Konigsberg does a great job of letting their friendship grow and change without pushing it. Even though Max and Jordan seem like very different people, they fit together very naturally and they become dependable constants in each other’s lives. A lot of romance stories depend on miscommunications and drama to push the leads apart, but Konigsberg doesn’t bother with that. There’s a lot of drama in The Music of What Happens, but none of it is stupid rom-com drama. Jordan and Max are the kind of couple that the reader actually thinks should and would stay together because they don’t fight about pointless things and they communicate about and work through real problems as a team. Their being a team doesn’t in any way make the drama of the novel boring, because there is plenty of drama outside of the relationship to keep things interesting. It’s refreshing to read a romance about two characters who actually like each other and who come together when things get difficult, rather than breaking up so they can dramatically reunite later.

I didn’t like the boys’ friends. I complained about the friends in Openly Straight, too. I suspect that Bill Konigsberg’s real-life friendships just don’t translate well to the written word for some reason. Pam, Kayla, Zay-Rod, and Betts are terrible friends. I get that part of the point is that neither Max nor Jordan has a serious, communicative relationship with his friends, but still. There’s a difference between having a frothy, surface-level fun friendship and hanging out with people who actively suck. Betts and Zay-Rod make gay jokes and ruthlessly insult each other and Max in a way that is too pointed to be all fun and games (and this is coming from a person who expresses affection almost entirely in insults; if I think it’s too mean, then it’s probably way too mean). Kayla and Pam are basically the same, except girl versions. Not only do they not listen to Jordan, they actively go out of their way to ignore what he’s saying. Max and Jordan are great together, but their friends bring out the absolute worst in them. Usually I wouldn’t condone dropping your platonic friends for a love interest, but in this case… those friends are trash and should be dropped as soon as possible. Don’t get me started on how creepy it is that Jordan refers to his friends as his “wives.”

I liked how delicately Konigsberg handles…

Skip to the next bullet to avoid (mild) spoilers.

Opposite of Always (Book Review) ⭐⭐⭐

When it comes to contemporary YA writers, there aren’t many better than Becky Albertalli and Angie Thomas. The fact that they both endorsed Justin A. Reynolds’ Opposite of Always was enough for me to give it a shot. Unfortunately, it doesn’t live up to those two names. Opposite of Always is cute enough, but it is nowhere in the league of Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda or The Hate U Give.

What’s it about?

While visiting a college campus towards the end of his senior year of high school, Jack meets Kate and they fall in love. Sounds good, right? Wrong. Jack and Kate only have a short time together, because Kate has a genetic disease that kills her before they can have their happily ever after. But then Jack finds himself transported back to the moment when he first met Kate. Given a miraculous second chance with Kate, Jack does everything in his power to save her life only to lose her again (and again and again), and return again (and again and again) to the stairs where they met.

What’d I think?

I’ve been somewhat uninspired by my own reviews lately, so I’m going to try out yet another format. I’m also trying to keep my reviews shorter than usual, as I’ve noticed that the long, analytical ones rarely get read. Here we go!

I liked Jack’s relationships with his best friends Franny and Jillian. They are a really cool trio, and the way that their dynamic shifts with the decisions that Jack makes is far and away the best part of Opposite of Always. The way that Jack’s friends (particularly Franny) are folded into Jack’s family is particularly sweet. Franny and Jillian are their own characters even outside their relationships to Jack, and I love that the narrative emphasizes them as much as it does. They’re never get pushed to the side, and their emotional wellbeing is treated as seriously as either Jack or Kate’s, which is awesome.

I didn’t like the central romance. With Jack, Franny, and Jillian, Reynolds proved that he can write a fun, deep, important relationship. Unfortunately, however, he didn’t put that ability to work for Jack and Kate. For the life of me, I don’t understand what Jack sees in Kate. Or What Kate sees in Jack. They’re both good characters, but together they’re all kinds of bland. No matter how many times I watched them fall in love, I never got it. Forget true love, they don’t even have basic chemistry. I just do not get them as a couple. So I certainly don’t understand why their romance warrants repeated time loops to get it right.

I liked the adults. Jack’s parents are goofy and cringy and very present in Jack’s life. They’re real people, not just cardboard cutouts who only show up to parent when the plot calls for it. Likewise, Franny’s dad is a great character. Terrible guy, great character. Franny’s relationship with his dad is one of the best emotional storylines.