altlovesbooks

I sort of expected more from a mystery thriller set in old 1920s Hollywood. Maybe that was a me and my expectations problem?

Mary Rourke is someone movie studios call on when they need something fixed or resolved quietly that might have a PR impact. She's called to the home of Norma Carlton, a household name in silent films, because she was found dead. She's also working on a film Hollywood can't stop talking about, The Devil's Playground, an open secret everyone knows about but nobody wants anything to do with because of a curse. She sets about investigating this woman's murder to see if there's something larger at play than what it appears on the surface, and finds out there's an entire dark underside to Hollywood she wasn't prepared for.

There's also a second viewpoint mentioned in the summary of this book, but only appears in the very beginning and at the very end, to introduce the reader to the idea of The Devil's Playground being this lost film nobody has a copy of and to bring the whole thing to a close. I don't really consider this book a dual viewpoint story, as the vast majority is from Mary Rourke's viewpoint, with some interspersed historical chapters involving some essential backstory.

Right off the bat I want to say that I thought the writing was excellent. I love my descriptive scenes, and this book really nails the feel of 1920s prohibition Hollywood. Full points for that. I also like Mary Rourke's character, and thought she was a great person to share this story with. She seems smart, no-nonsense, and able to handle all the alpha personalities around her fairly well. It's also clear that the author did their homework on 1920s Hollywood, as there's a lot of details included within the story that sometimes was distracting.

Unfortunately, I thought the overall mystery was kind of lackluster and overdeveloped for the eventual payoff. I didn't really see the ending coming, and felt like a lot of what happened before wasn't all that relevant in hindsight. This overdevelopment also led to so many characters to keep up with, all with delightfully generic Hollywood names, that I had a hard time remembering who was who until well into a conversation.

It was just an okay book in the end, but ultimately not very memorable.

Three witch sisters run a tea shop specializing in reading tea leaves. They grew up together and are very close, and all live together in a house that just wants the best for its inhabitants. Unfortunately this closeness starts to chafe, as they're given a seemingly impossible task to complete by the council of witches, or else their shop will be taken away. Suddenly a very close bond between the three of them starts to unravel, as each gets tempted away from working together by the promise of something more than reading fortunes.

This was a perfectly acceptable book, but not deep in any way. It's definitely a cozy read, doesn't require a lot of the reader to keep going, and doesn't overstay its welcome. I thought maybe the plot point revolving around uncovering the witchs' tasks was resolved a bit too quickly/easily relative to how important it was made to seem. It almost felt like the book went in just a few too many directions all at once, between (mild plot spoilers here) the witchs' tasks, the curse, and the three sisters' secrets they were keeping from each other. I was puzzled at points in the book at which was the 'main' threat and what was just plot filler.

But it was a cute book, if nothing else. Cozy and quick, I guess is what I can sum it up as.

"Everyone thinks they know what's best for the moons. Schoolkids, senators, farmers, factory workers. But so many of them disagree in their answer to one question: Who's human to you?"

Ver and Aryl work in the same science lab, when their mentor, Cal, is mysteriously killed in a variation on a locked-room mystery. The two girls are framed, when neither of them are the ones who did it. Despite being from very different backgrounds and not really knowing the other all that well, the two band together to clear their names, but end up becoming closer as well, as they navigate Ver's wasting disease she was attempting to cure, and Aryl's dream of being a dancer.

It wasn't a bad book, but I felt like it was lacking something to make me feel more for the characters. Ver's chapters, in particular, are written in a certain style to drive home that she's from a different background with different views. I like the science-y factoids/ruminations her chapters open with, but the rest of her chapters were very clinical, like how someone deep in the science world would think. Aryl, in contrast, is very flip, unpredictable, and kind of a party girl in the beginning, despite having lofty goals for herself.

I feel like the relationship that develops between these two needed more time to cook for it to feel authentic. As it is, beyond a few throwaway lines about being impressed by the other, noticing the other being a bit attractive, and silently respecting the other's intelligence, nothing is really expanded on until a switch flips and they're overtly in love with each other. It all felt very instalove-y, which was a bit grating.

Finally, while I liked the undertones about social divides and living with disability in the beginning, it felt increasingly heavy-handed as the book went on. The author has talent in painting the world this book exists in and the society issues it has, but what started subtle and left to the reader to infer ended as a blunt hammer to the head by the end, and I kind of didn't like that.

Still, it was a bit cute, and I did really like the world as depicted by the author.

"Everyone thinks they know what's best for the moons. Schoolkids, senators, farmers, factory workers. But so many of them disagree in their answer to one question: Who's human to you?"

Ver and Aryl work in the same science lab, when their mentor, Cal, is mysteriously killed in a variation on a locked-room mystery. The two girls are framed, when neither of them are the ones who did it. Despite being from very different backgrounds and not really knowing the other all that well, the two band together to clear their names, but end up becoming closer as well, as they navigate Ver's wasting disease she was attempting to cure, and Aryl's dream of being a dancer.

It wasn't a bad book, but I felt like it was lacking something to make me feel more for the characters. Ver's chapters, in particular, are written in a certain style to drive home that she's from a different background with different views. I like the science-y factoids/ruminations her chapters open with, but the rest of her chapters were very clinical, like how someone deep in the science world would think. Aryl, in contrast, is very flip, unpredictable, and kind of a party girl in the beginning, despite having lofty goals for herself.

I feel like the relationship that develops between these two needed more time to cook for it to feel authentic. As it is, beyond a few throwaway lines about being impressed by the other, noticing the other being a bit attractive, and silently respecting the other's intelligence, nothing is really expanded on until a switch flips and they're overtly in love with each other. It all felt very instalove-y, which was a bit grating.

Finally, while I liked the undertones about social divides and living with disability in the beginning, it felt increasingly heavy-handed as the book went on. The author has talent in painting the world this book exists in and the society issues it has, but what started subtle and left to the reader to infer ended as a blunt hammer to the head by the end, and I kind of didn't like that.

Still, it was a bit cute, and I did really like the world as depicted by the author.

"Everyone thinks they know what's best for the moons. Schoolkids, senators, farmers, factory workers. But so many of them disagree in their answer to one question: Who's human to you?"

Ver and Aryl work in the same science lab, when their mentor, Cal, is mysteriously killed in a variation on a locked-room mystery. The two girls are framed, when neither of them are the ones who did it. Despite being from very different backgrounds and not really knowing the other all that well, the two band together to clear their names, but end up becoming closer as well, as they navigate Ver's wasting disease she was attempting to cure, and Aryl's dream of being a dancer.

It wasn't a bad book, but I felt like it was lacking something to make me feel more for the characters. Ver's chapters, in particular, are written in a certain style to drive home that she's from a different background with different views. I like the science-y factoids/ruminations her chapters open with, but the rest of her chapters were very clinical, like how someone deep in the science world would think. Aryl, in contrast, is very flip, unpredictable, and kind of a party girl in the beginning, despite having lofty goals for herself.

I feel like the relationship that develops between these two needed more time to cook for it to feel authentic. As it is, beyond a few throwaway lines about being impressed by the other, noticing the other being a bit attractive, and silently respecting the other's intelligence, nothing is really expanded on until a switch flips and they're overtly in love with each other. It all felt very instalove-y, which was a bit grating.

Finally, while I liked the undertones about social divides and living with disability in the beginning, it felt increasingly heavy-handed as the book went on. The author has talent in painting the world this book exists in and the society issues it has, but what started subtle and left to the reader to infer ended as a blunt hammer to the head by the end, and I kind of didn't like that.

Still, it was a bit cute, and I did really like the world as depicted by the author.

"Everyone thinks they know what's best for the moons. Schoolkids, senators, farmers, factory workers. But so many of them disagree in their answer to one question: Who's human to you?"

Ver and Aryl work in the same science lab, when their mentor, Cal, is mysteriously killed in a variation on a locked-room mystery. The two girls are framed, when neither of them are the ones who did it. Despite being from very different backgrounds and not really knowing the other all that well, the two band together to clear their names, but end up becoming closer as well, as they navigate Ver's wasting disease she was attempting to cure, and Aryl's dream of being a dancer.

It wasn't a bad book, but I felt like it was lacking something to make me feel more for the characters. Ver's chapters, in particular, are written in a certain style to drive home that she's from a different background with different views. I like the science-y factoids/ruminations her chapters open with, but the rest of her chapters were very clinical, like how someone deep in the science world would think. Aryl, in contrast, is very flip, unpredictable, and kind of a party girl in the beginning, despite having lofty goals for herself.

I feel like the relationship that develops between these two needed more time to cook for it to feel authentic. As it is, beyond a few throwaway lines about being impressed by the other, noticing the other being a bit attractive, and silently respecting the other's intelligence, nothing is really expanded on until a switch flips and they're overtly in love with each other. It all felt very instalove-y, which was a bit grating.

Finally, while I liked the undertones about social divides and living with disability in the beginning, it felt increasingly heavy-handed as the book went on. The author has talent in painting the world this book exists in and the society issues it has, but what started subtle and left to the reader to infer ended as a blunt hammer to the head by the end, and I kind of didn't like that.

Still, it was a bit cute, and I did really like the world as depicted by the author.

Okay, going into this, you have to realize that this is very much a Japanese book about a guy who does nothing. That literally means that not a whole lot happens in this book, but it's still quite charming. Our Rental Person is an unassuming guy who found himself unsuited for Japanese corporate life, and wondered if 'doing nothing' could have some sort of social significance. Thus, he rents himself out to people who need someone along who does.....nothing. All he asks is for his travel and expenses to be covered, and you have yourself someone who will listen to your problems without comment, who will attend events and do nothing in the audience, who will eat with you at a restaurant without comment, any number of things.

Whether or not you agree with him and his thinking here aside, I actually enjoyed this book. Rental Person seems to be quite conscientious about having as little impact as possible in other people's lives, and yet still manages to be of service. It's kind of a meandering book, where requests quoted from Twitter are posted alongside his social media commentary tweet about the job, and then the author comments on his particular thoughts about the job. There's not a lot of deep insight here, and especially his thoughts on doing literally nothing are reiterated a ton, but as a surface level story about the myriad strange requests someone gets to do nothing, I thought it succeeded well.

Just a short, sweet book about doing nothing.