Valerie

Fun Fact: LeVar Burton says Octavia Butler is his favorite author.

That man has been telling me what book I should read next for 20 years. He has never been wrong.

Adulthood Rites didn't grab me as immediately as Dawn, probably because it was a lot harder for me to relate to Akin than to Lilith. However, the story is thicker and even more layered than its predecessor. It has themes of puberty, kinship, and the (in this case literal) story of the Phoenix, but it never oversteps itself. I read an interview where Octavia Butler said she specifically chose science fiction because it allowed her to write about serious issues that people needed to talk about under a cloak that allowed people to talk about them.

A big point is made about the Human Contradiction, our intelligence paired with a hierarchical drive. This message is as relevant today as when the book was first published. Yet, she avoids denigrating humanity by making the species so incredibly valuable to the Oankali and having Akin learn to treasure his Humanity. This makes the overall message one of hope rather than cynicism.

After reading a pretty bad book, Butler's writing is a beautiful treat. Visualizing is an enjoyable challenge, and I have to fight against what my natural instinct is to build her brilliantly alien concepts. The book isn't even 300 pages, but it packs more punch than the 1600 page epics of the modern era. Every word has purpose and deserves to be savored.

I'm definitely moving into the third book immediately. This is a series every Human should read. Thanks, LeVar... again.

I'm very glad my teaching partner threw this at me and yelled at me to read it because otherwise it might have taken me ages to get down the list. One and Only Ivan is the Newberry winner this year, and while I used to be very good about reading those right away, I used to have a lot shorter list of things to read.

One and Only Ivan is an impressive piece of children's literature, primarily for the way it treats its audience. The book is incredibly accessible to children without in any way demeaning them as readers. it cuts no corners with language or emotion, and made me weepy multiple times. Emotional animal lovers, beware this book. You will sob uncontrollably. The story is clearly set some time ago, but the situations of Stella and Ivan's are situations I witnessed first-hand at “zoos” abroad, and the ethics about captive animals discussed are still incredibly relevant today.

Ivan's voice as he narrates is so easy to read along with. He maintains such a steady, calm tone in the face of events that seem perfectly plausible for any gorilla forced into a routine for 27 years. Being a gorilla, is language is never too difficult for your average 3rd grader, but it carries the weight and gravity of a simply majestic animal.

One of the main problems I usually have with children's novels, especially Newberry winners, is the weepy factor. So many books are aimed at children with the idea that all kids need is ways to cope with tragedy. Books like Bridge to Teribithia or Walk Two Moons are fine if you need them, but in my experience kids really aren't crying out for tear jerkers. Literature seems to be only serious if it makes you EMOTE with waterfalls. This book, while it does make the reader tear up, never does so in a pandering way. While it's pretty clear that we'll be dealing with death at some point in the story (it did win a Newberry), the novel has plenty of other themes to tackle.

My favorite part, though, is undoubtedly the ending. Ivan is very human through most of the book, a reflection of his human upbringing, but in the end we start to see him adjust to being a gorilla again. The ending struck me with its realism. This is no Free Willy where you watch the whale swim off into the ocean to inevitably starve to death. This is the best Ivan can hope for: a nicer cage where he can be a gorilla. I enjoy that his reactions to new things remain gorilla reactions, even as he understands human speech. Everything Ivan does in the entire novel is a gorilla move filtered through human language. This is the author's greatest accomplishment, in my opinion.

The book looks intimidating, but the chapters are often just a few widely spaced sentences. I read it during the odd five minutes I'd have when I didn't feel like starting new projects at school. The short chapters would make it an ideal read-aloud too. Highly recommended to anyone who loves animals or needs good children's literature.

A couple years ago, they remade the sci-fi series “V” and I loved it. Nobody else did, and they canceled and that made me sad. It was one of the few shows with a kickass older female lead (and a kickass female villain) and every episode left me on edge.

Boneshaker helps me fill the whole V's cancellation left in my fangirl heart. It's a survival story about a mom who will do anything to protect her ungrateful son who drives every character and audience member crazy with his utter lack of self-preservation. I just don't like teenagers on principal. Briar, on the other hand, is everything I want in a hero, and even though I guessed her big secret quite early on, she kept me rooting for her.

I didn't think I was going to like this book much because I've seen some interviews with Cherie Priest and she both looks and talks like some of the awful pretentious Artist types I spent too much time around in college. Unlike them, Priest actually knows her business. She understands things like how gas masks actually work, how hard it is to fire a gun, and how a subterranean society would have to function. She takes some liberties with plot convenience (I would really like to know how they got that wall around Seattle in the first place) but they all serve the story, and I'll suspend my disbelief for the story's sake.

The zombie trend has been pretty played out, but Priest didn't overdo it in this book. They are there and scary when they are there, but it isn't overpowering and serves as more of overarching threat than a central plot device. I'm curious if they get explored in later books more. I'm not a big steampunk fan either, but this book was much more than clockwork candy. The steampunk elements are nice accessories that keep the plot moving, but they aren't the star of the story. Briar remains the star, as well she should.

This was a great October read, and I'd recommend it to anyone who like a badass mom story or a good zombie survival tale.

I'm all choked up and emotional at finishing this series. This last book is also probably my favorite. Simmons' skill seems to grow with every chapter, and his world-creation is about the most perfect I've ever read. I have no idea how one person can imagine so many worlds and then capture them all in such a small space. Particularly, the sky city of T'ien Shan captivated me and gave me a very physical sense of vertigo.

Thematically, this book and Endymion before it align almost perfectly with my current ideas about religion, spirituality, and all the positive and negative aspects of both. I hadn't been Aenea's biggest fan before, but the character reveals made in this book made everything about the entire Cantos much more understandable. I will say, I did call where Aenea would be during her 2 year absence and A. Bettik's role, but calling those made me feel like I was being rewarded for paying attention and not like the writer was being sloppy.

My only disappointment is I would've liked a bit more Shrike. The reveals about it were interesting enough and the knockdown fight with the Nemes (about a billion times more terrifying than the Shrike) were great, but man the Shrike is a great creature and I rather want more of it.

Overall brilliant series that I'm very happy fell in my lap via Sword and Laser.

While this book isn't destined to be one of my favorites, I read it at the exact right time to enjoy it. I just started playing D&D again, and the characters in this book put me exactly in that RPG campaign space. This book functions as an anthology introduction to the Witcher universe. It is a series of self-contained tales within a frame introducing many of the characters that later appear in the series (and the video games which you do not need to play to enjoy the books. The novels came first and the author has said he holds them far over the games in terms of canon). The stories draw a lot from fairy tales and Slavic mythology, making them both familiar and original. The characters are not terrifically interesting or unique, but are fun representations of RPG archetypes. I might enjoy a novel-length treatment of the characters more, but this was an enjoyable series of adventures to get me back in that D&D headspace.

Terry Pratchett had a way of taking a delightful comic adventure and wrapping it around a vitally important social issue in a way that makes a perfect point. Raising Steam is absolutely no stranger to this and is an almost direct continuation of the plight of the goblins from “Snuff.” In this novel, Pratchett not only looked at how railways altered the culture of continents, but also at terrorism. Of course, Pratchett's terrorists are dwarfs, but a select subset of dwarfs clinging to the ways of the deep down mines. Of course, not all dwarfs clinging to the ways of the deep down mines are terrorists either. Some of them hate modern society and still believe that destroying it is a bad thing. And of course others are feminists who believe dwarf women should be proud of their gender and wear modern fashions. And others are monarchists who believe that what the Low King says goes. And others think that tradition has a great deal of value but that doesn't mean we ignore the present. The list goes on as Pratchett's dwarves fill out a complete culture better than many authors fill out actual human cultures.

Then let's add in our cast of returning favorites. This novel fits into the Moist von Lipwig arc neatly with cameos from Vimes and company. The Moist series is one of the most recents, but also one of my favorites (I say that about every series, yes I know) and I maintain that Nathan Fillion should play him should there ever be a movie adaptation (I say that about every smarmy male character, yes I know). We also learn a lot more about goblin society and spend a good deal more time with the Patrician han usual. If you're a Discworld fan, you won't be disappointed.

I admit I've put off reading this book because there just isn't a lot more Discworld left for me to read, but I'm glad I read it now. It's a good time for people to read this book. It's more enjoyable if you're read Thud, Making Money, and Snuff, but as is usual, it's easy to catch up if you haven't.

I really don't know if I liked this more or less than Circe. Miller has a way of reinvigorating stories with a layer of modern philosophy that weaves seamlessly with classic mythos. I've had this on my to-read shelf for ages and am very glad I finally got around to reading it. Patroclus' tale is a frequently overlooked and downplayed part of the Iliad, and it is refreshing to see it get a serious treatment (I'm looking at you, stupid Troy movie). If you have any interest at all in the Iliad, you should read this and probably everything Madeline Miller writes ever.

I read this for work and found it surprisingly valuable. It really defined a lot of the reasons I wasn't doing well at my old job and gave me hope for the new one. If you're familiar with the love languages, it adds a bit to that premise and is very easy to follow. I think it's an especially good read if you have people who work under you.

It feels a bit weird to review classic literature. Like, do I have the right to give James Joyce 4 stars? No, I don't think I do... I literally found this book on my shelf with my undgrad notes still tucked inside along with the cheat codes to my then favorite video game. So yeah, I'm giving it 5 stars because there is a reason that Dubliners is taught in undergrad and why it's the best introduction for anyone interested in Joyce. I enjoyed slipping back into the lives of everyday people, their trials and tragedies. It brings back a lot of great memories from high school and undergrad, and now from my trip to Ireland where I visited a bunch of the places mentioned in the stories. “The Dead” was the first Joyce story I ever read, and I remember just being deeply affected by it. It's still quite affecting now. I harbor a secret and extra-pretentious desire to write a short story collection called Denverites.

This book reads like a blend of American tall tales and European faerie talkes along with a style of magic realism that puts me in mind of Gabriel Garcia Marquez. Hatfields and McCoys meet Midsummer Night's Dream. It's a haunting story that is not afraid to string the reader along with hints and guesses of what is truly happening and what we might be just imagining. It's a story about homecoming, trauma, and finding out who you are within and outside of your family. It's hard to say more without giving too much away, but if you like any of the above, I encourage you to read this book. I'll definitely be continuing in the series.

I enjoyed this book a hell of a lot more than the jacket cover led me to believe I would. It's hard to explain without giving away rather major plot points, but it's a very clever twist on both the secret government organization trope and the body snatcher trope. It also highlights the importance of effective administration no matter how super-powered you may be. In short, it's a book that glorifies the indoor nerd, and there really are not enough of those. I'd say if you enjoy characters like Baru Cormorant or Sithren from “The Dragon's Path,” you'll probably enjoy Myfanwy Thomas, at least one version of her.

Occasionally, the structure of the book plays heavy to the exposition, but I found I enjoyed reading the exposition dumps enough that it didn't really impact my reading experience. Also, the vastness of superpowers in this universe is occasionally just plain silly, but hey, that's the world we live in. I found there was only one plotline that really bugged me as feeling extraneious, The Bronwyn plot line. I don't really understand why Myfanwy would take so many extremely stupid risks over a person who is basically a stranger, and Bronwyn showing up right now feels forced seeing as no connection to the main plot ever really explains it.

Other than that, I found the book very enjoyable and hope to get into the sequel once I knock a few more updated series off my to-read list.

This book was my Thanksgiving Break homework, and I have to say it was eye-opening. I've attended lot of professional develpment, staff meetings, and and seminars centering around closing the achievement gap, but Delpit not only presented my with new perspectives and data, she also challenged the data I'd held as foundational.

Some of the breakthrough thoughts: the negative effects of desegregation in that it nearly eliminated educational and administration positions from black people, replacing them with young, inexperienced white teachers who generally were just looking for ways to not teach their anymore.

The fact that Teach for America and programs like it replaces primarily minority teachers with non-teachers unconnected to their students' culture or community and only sticking around for 2-3 years.

The idea of “language poverty” as a cultural construction rather than an actual educational deficit.

There's tons of less revolutionary (for me at least) ideas too, mainly concerning students of all colors identifying with their teachers and school communities to see ways in which they can be successful in places that value their unique perspectives and abilities. Delpit is extremely ability-focused which is always a nice change of pace from a lot of staff meetings. Reading this book definitely inspired me to look more closely at my teaching and speaking styles, at what I'm asking my children to do and how else they can demonstrate their mastery. Highly recommended to teachers working outside their home culture.

Well... I kind of expected to like this one a lot more than I actually did. The tone and the style was great in a Rocketeer meets Noir detective way, but for some reason I just never really got invested in the story. The plot twists and turns all the time, and while usually that's a good thing, this time I sort of gave up following that early. Probably that's more a reflection of how numb my brain is lately than a failing of the author.

What I did like is that this book presents a mystery and femme fatales with no love story (except a weird add on at the end which I'm not counting). I liked the visuals that it conjured and absolutely every person's name.

What I didn't like is that the actual writing felt a bit stilted with a lot of simple sentences in a row and the author occasionally needing to spell out why something was important. I never really understood how anything worked, and there were so many plot points to follow that I kept forgetting who was connected to whom and why. Again, that may just be my brain on standardized test season.

If you like Golden Age Sci-Fi and Noir Detectives, you are the person this book was written for, but go into able to read in big chunks. Reading ten minutes hear and there just did not work for me.

I originally listened to this on audio, and I highly recommend that as a way to read this book. The reader is phenomenal and lends a lot to the series with his voice. On reading it, I definitely felt a huge appreciation for the amount of details and set-up that Sullivan put into his world building. On the surface, this is a wild, high fantasy romp that makes good use of fantasy tropes. The action is fast-paced, the dialogue is snappy, and the characters are all great to spend time with. It also has great female characters, especially for European-based epic fantasy. I would say that this first book is a lot stronger than the second, but the series is worth continuing to the end to see where all the tiny threads eventually lead.

I think Carrie Vaughn is one of the most under-rated genre writers around. Post-Apocalyptic murder mystery is not a genre just anyone could handle, but she does so with great skill. Bannerless has the fun of other fantastical neo-noir detectives but without the sexism and toxic masculinity that is pretty ingrained in the latter genre. I love the concept, and the mystery met my criteria of I got it figured out just a little ahead of the characters. I remember liking Bannerless but read it a long time ago and was worried it would be confusing to jump into the world, but honestly you could jump in here and be caught up with the world in the first chapter.

I'm also maybe a little won over by the idea of “households” who all gather together to raise children because magic dystopian birth control aside, that's a really great idea.

Recommended especially to fans of a good detective story looking for a fresh and more inclusive take on it.

My rating on this may be a bit generous... Call it a 3.5. At first, I was really enjoying this book and watching Quentin grow into an actual human character. I know a lot of people hate him, but I understood a bit about why he had the attitude he had. It made a lot of sense for the academia that surrounded the first book. The sequel is much more about life after academia, about why “what happens next, when does my life start?” part of life. Quentin begins to think outside himself for the first time... ever, I think. I like his journey. I like Julia's journey. I would've liked a bit more of Eliot, but that's a personal thing.

The first book had an ending that pushed me forward. It faked out at a lame, boring ending, and then pulled you right back to the cliff's edge. The Magician King starts you off at the cliff's edge, and then drags you back to safe ground. I felt pretty dissatisfied by the whole last chapter. Every time something cool was about to happen, someone would prevent it. Not really sure why Grossman made that choice. There's definitely potential for a third book, and I do hope he writes one (The Magician Monk?), but this ending doesn't leave me excited about it like the first one did.

While much more satisfying than Book 4, I am now faced with waiting at least half a decade before any of these new cliffhangers are resolved.

On the whole, I think this one felt a little more complete than the last book, tying together plot lines, destroying red herrings, and carrying out the slow reveals that Martin excels in. This does not excuse him leaving Sansa out for the whole book while giving at least a token chapter to all the other Feast for Crows viewpoints.

After what happened to Cat, I am hesitant to believe Jon Snow is dead. In Martin's world, major characters don't seem to stay dead unless someone they love is there to watch, witness, and mourn. The deaths have to hurt. Also, while I recognize Jon as a vital character and would love to seem him take down Bolton, his point of view is one of the harder ones to slog through. Also difficult to deal with are characters like Victarion, Quentyn, and Griff, characters who seem to be there to move the story along but with whom Martin doesn't really develop that emotional character/reader bond he does with others. I hope the next book has fewer, for lack of a better word "NPC" characters and more time with "stars."Because I'm sure I will forget half the book before the next one comes out, I'm going to make notes on the questions I have at the end/plot lines I'm most anxious to see resolved.-Asha and Theon's reunion. WTF happened in Bolton's camp? Stannis' death is another thing I'm led to doubt.-Who is Melisandre, really. This book built more and more sympathy for her, and I'd love her POV to be more fully explored.-Varys has been plotting with young Aegon the whole time? Must know more!-When the frak is Dany getting to Westeros.-Tyrion's plot line didn't leave me in dire concern for his safety, but I just want more of him. Possibly hanging out with Dothraki.-Likewise on Arya, though I don't see how she'd meet up with Dothraki. Then again, GRRM works in mysterious ways.-Why the frak does Bran disappear halfway in never to return? I want to know more about his spooky powers. -What is Brienne doing with Jaimie? I really don't think she has it in him to send him to slaughter, but we still don't know the word she screamed to save her life at the end of FfC.


Part of me is a bit relieved to be caught up with the series. It's wonderfully convoluted which makes for long hours slogging through feasts and battles and council meetings to get at the meat of the characters I'm so in love with. Reading it feels like a mental cardio exercise, pushing to a goal that is as yet hidden.

As a 30 year old who still has yet to reach most of the markers of adulthood, this was a really refreshing read. Funny, honest, and thoughtful memoir.

At this point, I'm just happy I started reading this series after 5 books had already been published. Now that I've got a grip on the characters and have read beyond what's been put on HBO, I'm enjoying the story a lot more. That said, I still find Catelyn and Jon Snow to be rather dull points of view regardless of what action is going on around them. I'd like to read an entire book just from Tyrion or Arya's perspective though.

So after marathoning through the last two hundred pages, I'm finally done. I feel like I've run an actual marathon whilst some one was occasionally punching me in the head. I got really excited about this book and tried to explain it to people, but then had to stop because of course there is no way at all to summarize this book. The dust jacket does a terrible job of it, and I ended up with a very different book than I expected. The only other Stephenson book that I've read is “Anathem” which is such a slow burn I have a hard time believing these are the same authors (other than the intense attention to seemingly minor details).

I expected a lot more sci-fi and gaming elements, but really the game is only one very small piece and a massive 3D puzzle. I don't normally read a lot of thrillers because they stress me out, and boy did this one stress me out. Stephenson is a master of, “How could this possibly get any worse?” These poor characters catch not a single damn break until the final show down. And you, the reader, like these characters. You like cool calculating Sokolov and nerd master Marlon and enterprising Zula and really the whole cast of “good guys.” There's a million points when you think, “Ah, so this is how they will finally escape and be okay,” but nope! There's still 600 pages of horrible, horrible things, so strap in.

Stephenson did a helluva lot of research for this book, and I can't speak to the accuracy of any of it since I have approximately zero experience with Russian Mafia, Islamic terrorists, guns, MMORGs, or mountain lions. That said, I feel pretty damn well educated now. That said, I sometimes felt a little too educated, especially when getting into the details of T'rain. I might have made it through this book in decent time without the in depth look at T'rain's geology, politics, and economics, but then the whole thing might have felt a bit more like a cheap plot device.

If I have a criticism, it might be that the ending is a little too pat. The various couples hooking up, especially Sokolov and Olivia whom I appreciated more as a James Bond one time deal than a long term thing and the only good guy death being dear sacrificial lamb Uncle John. Like other books with super happy endings though, I'm just so relieved everyone is okay that I would likely feel upset and angry if they didn't get a happy ending.

This book is in no way for the faint of heart, but if you have a lot of time on your hand and don't mind wrapping your brain around some of the cruelest plot twists in fiction, give this one a go.

I had an all right time reading this. Jones' python stylings combined with Adams' quirky concepts is a good match, and it's pretty funny. The characters feel pretty dated (especially the women), and the whole crisis at the end doesn't make much sense, but it was still a fun little story.

For anyone who thinks protagonists have to be likable in order to enjoy a book, give this one a try. June is pretty horrible, the human incarnation of “I'm not racist, but...”, and yet Kuang preserves her humanity and allows the reader to feel empathy with her. She's awful, but she's not a caricature. She's a very real person, probably all too common in Kuang's publishing spheres. As a white woman with dreams of traditional publishing myself, I can't help but read her as a cautionary tale.

Yellowface is a major departure from Kuang's epic fantasies, but her writing is strong enough to cross genres effortlessly. I wouldn't call it a “fun” read. It's frustrating, complex, and frequently disheartening, but it is a good story that is vital and incredibly relevant in our social media fame-obsessed age.

Well, that felt like running a brain marathon.

I've been reading this book pretty much the entire month of January, which isn't to say it's slow. I was reading until way too late at night trying to figure out what was going on, but there was still a lot more going on. As I often feel about Murakami's works, I was confused when I started and confused about totally different things when I finished. However, I ended up enjoying it anyway.

There's a couple of themes that stick out from this book. First off, the dangers of seclusion. Pretty much all of the characters in this story are secluded for one reason or another, by or against their own will in multiple ways. That seclusion does things to their psychology, forcing them to really explore themselves in ways a busy, interconnected lifestyle prevents. Fuka-Eri's initial encounter with the Little People involves being in solitary confinement, the place where she first learns to make air chrysalises. Fantastic elements like these are generally used as accents to the larger themes, but I think they serve their purpose well. I still don't know what that last scene with them meant at all though...

Tengo and Aomame's plot line involves the trials in ending that isolation. Neither of them has a strong grasp of self, and that's kept them apart for twenty years. It's scary to break out of your own confinement when you've been alone that long, and while the reader might not have actually cultists chasing them down if they step out of hiding, that fear is still something to which the reader, or at least this reader, can relate.

The other theme seems to be about domestic violence. A lot of horrible things happen to women in this story, and Murakami seems to be pointing out a real problem in Japan that doesn't get talked about. Women are definitely still second class citizens there, and I appreciate him bringing up how the isolation of women can actually be dangerous. That said, Murakami really likes to write weird lesbian subplots with straight women that make no sense. It's weird, and it will always be weird to me.

The book was not easy to read, and I'm really glad I have the Japanese background to retranslate some of the sentences. The translator did a great job, but some phrases just don't make sense in English and some cultural notes (Like overexhuberant NHK collectors) would have really puzzled me five years ago. I'd recommend reading this book with a wiki close by if you don't have much experience with Japanese culture.

It's a book I'll probably keep thinking about, and that makes it good, even if the ending left me more confused than the beginning. That's just what I expect from Murakami novels.

I loved this book so very very very much until the epilogue. I thought it was a fantastic character exploration and was pleasantly surprised to not be able to find a true hero or villain in the piece. Every character is masterfully well-rounded and motivated by many opposing factors. The theme on the power of pride and how people let it shape them for good or evil resonated very deeply within me. After slogging through “A Song of Ice and Fire,” this was refreshing fantasy. It has a fast pace and remains real without getting as graphic as ASoIaF.


Then I got to the very last sentence and about threw the book across the room. My book club specifically picked this because it was a stand alone novel without a sequel after the last two books caused frustrating time sinks for people without much reading time. That means that unless Mr. Kay has a change of heart (and he wrote this book over 20 years ago), we the audience are left with this awful pit in our stomachs. My advice, read the book, stop at the epilogue.

Ava's Demon is one of the most beautiful and interesting webcomics out there. It's one of very few that is more powerful in its multimedia online version than in print form. However, Czajkowski ran a very successful kickstarter that meant the hardcover edition of volume 2 is just as beautiful and looks very pretty next to volume one.

The story is still as intriguing as when the series began, the art is beautiful, and the new characters always make me want faster updates. I highly recommend checking out avasdemon.com and investing in the books if you like what you read.