lightreads: a partial image of a etymology tree for the Indo-European word 'leuk done in white neon on black'; in the lower left is (Default)
King of Scars

3/5. A book in her Grishaverse, set after the Shadow and Bone trilogy (bleh, boring, avoid) and the Six of Crows books (much better, worth it if you like that kind of YA). About a young king possessed by a demon and also a spy mission in enemy territory undercovering a trafficking operation, also some understated YA romance stuff.

So, confession, I have been working my way through some stuff that has been on my TBR for a long time by way of a random number generator. Very booktube of me, I know. It’s actually helpful, though. In this case, helpful in solidifying that I’m still not in the YA place, even pretty “old” YA like this. Technically this would be new adult under the latest made up marketing gimmick, I believe. This is complexly written, with a lot going on, but I was only ever vaguely interested. Mostly, I just kept laughing out loud whenever the book reminded me, as it did periodically, that all these people – these soldiers and spies and heads of state, all collectively managing a war and a nation – are eighteen years old. It would be less funny if there were any actual adults in this book that aren’t irrelevant or evil, but there aren’t. Yeah yeah, I know, it’s part of the fantasy of YA. Doesn’t mean it isn’t funny.

Content notes: Trafficking, imprisonment, forced childbearing
lightreads: a partial image of a etymology tree for the Indo-European word 'leuk done in white neon on black'; in the lower left is (Default)
Tom’s Midnight Garden

3/5. A middle grade fantasy time travel from 1958. Tom is sent to his aunt and uncle’s city flat while his brother recovers from Measles. He thinks it’s terrible until he discovers that, when the clock strikes thirteen, he can find a wondrous garden out the back door, and a special playmate there.

Why is it that whenever I pick up a book I remember from childhood, it turns out it’s sad and I had no idea?

This isn’t tragic sad, just concerned with the wistfulness of time slipped away, and the chasm of understanding that can grow between children and adults. It’s also framing growing up as a kind of loss, and doing a little bit of that thing where romance and sexuality are a kind of inevitable threat, but more complexly than, oh I don’t know, just as a random example, the Narnia books.

I remembered how much fun they had playing in the garden and that’s about it, and now as an adult I read a book rich with overtones and subtext (the aunt and uncle are infertile, and she at least is really sad about it, which I super did not clock), oh and also, the religious imagery is doing a lot of work here which, you will be shocked, I also missed when I was eight.

Overall, a neat little speculative kids story that I was not sorry to revisit.

Content notes: Some sad orphan taken in into an unloving home stuff, the sort of views on gender you’d expect of a pre-pubescent boy of that era.
lightreads: a partial image of a etymology tree for the Indo-European word 'leuk done in white neon on black'; in the lower left is (Default)
The Library of the Dead and Our Lady of Mysterious Ailments

3/5. First two books in a series about a girl who can talk to the dead making her precarious way in Edinburgh long after some sort of apocalypse. She solves magical mysteries and barely clings to the ragged edge of survival.

I passively DNF’ed the second one in that way where you mean to finish it . . . right up until the library disappears it off your phone. It’s one of those things where my problem was that the book was doing something well. Specifically, our fourteen-year-old protagonist is extremely poor, like half a sneeze from homelessness poor. She’s dropped out of school and is functioning like an adult, because no one else can make rent so she has to, even though she is demonstrably not mature enough to handle a lot of what is thrown at her. And the books do a good job of showing how the system keeps her down, keeps her from even slightly improving her life no matter how hard she tries. Which is a real thing. But also, it got to the point where it almost felt like the books were victimizing her too, not just the system. And by the middle of the second book, I didn’t actually trust the books to give the kid a damn break for fucking once. Like ever.

They’re otherwise pretty good though? Creepy magic and a strong, distinctive voice.

Content notes: Child death, child harm.
lightreads: a partial image of a etymology tree for the Indo-European word 'leuk done in white neon on black'; in the lower left is (Default)
Iron Widow

3/5. In far future fantasy/scifi inspired by Chinese history, a young woman enlists, knowing it will mean her death at the hands of her male co-pilot, for the purpose of killing the pilot who murdered her sister.

Like most YA these days, this one has a lot going on, including: mecha vs. alien fights, a love triangle turned poly triad, a deeply unjust and misogynist society that makes our heroine incoherently furious, family drama, celebrity culture, chronic pain, tormented boys and nice boys, and a whole lot of plot twists.

It has enjoyable elements – the heroine's fury is deep and genuine and unrelenting, which I appreciate, and while I have no investment in the triad emotionally, I like that it exists. But overall, the YA is too strong in this one for me. Am I the only one who thinks YA has been getting less and less interesting for the past decade? Which makes me sad, because there's a lot of cultural and sexual diversity in YA these days, and I'd like to enjoy it more. But it's all so *gestures* pitched at an emotional eleven at all times, with paper thin worldbuilding. Now I'm trying to remember if Hunger Games really was that much better, or if it's just that we've all read too much of this now.

Content notes: Violence of many sorts, misogyny, footbinding, forced addiction, torture.
lightreads: a partial image of a etymology tree for the Indo-European word 'leuk done in white neon on black'; in the lower left is (Default)
Cemetery Boys

3/5. Story of a trans teen trying to find acceptance in his sorta secret community of latinx brujos and brujas in Los Angeles.

I can see how this book could easily mean the world to the right person, but I am not that person. And I don't even mean that I'm not trans or latinx. I really mean that I intensely disliked the love interest's type back when I was a teen myself (a walking advertisement for terrible judgment and zero impulse control, with a supposed heart of gold or whatever) and I certainly don't like him any better now.

Also, the book does arrange to have our protagonist called on his worldview, but it's just a passing objection and makes no real impact. And his worldview is very that flavor of trans identity where a person expresses their transness by way of insisting on participating in really strict, inflexible, and sexist gender norms. He's a boy, so by God he will prove himself to be the best boy within his culture's incredibly narrow notion of what a boy is and does. This is recognizably a way people approach transition sometimes, but I found it tiring to read about in all its authenticity and intense . . . 16ness. Also, I have a gut-level dislike for a trans narrative where the new gender is "proven" through some magical mcguffin, but maybe that's just me?

Content notes: Death, some violence.
lightreads: a partial image of a etymology tree for the Indo-European word 'leuk done in white neon on black'; in the lower left is (Default)
Archer's Goon

3/5. The one about Howard, whose father is supposed to produce 2,000 words every quarter for a mysterious personage, or else, and the or else gets his family entangled in a set of seven mysterious alien siblings controlling the town.

This is a weird one. It's making a subtle but strange point about the difference between unpleasant people who are sympathetic and interesting, and unpleasant people who are not. The difference being self-awareness. Howard knows he has the potential to be a twit, and he definitely sees the dark road his sister* (named Awful, just in case you missed it) could go down. But his father is a raging twit and has no idea, and is rendered insufferable thereby. That's some complex stuff for a kid's book, which is typical DWJ. But it's not all that much fun to read about.

*I gloss her as genderqueer, btw. You can make a pretty good case for it in the text, though it's clearly not what DWJ actually intended.
lightreads: a partial image of a etymology tree for the Indo-European word 'leuk done in white neon on black'; in the lower left is (Default)
What Abigail Did that Summer

3/5. Rivers of London novella about what Abigail did when Peter was off in the countryside. Because I guess he's trying a YA spinoff since the American spinoff hasn't taken?

This is entertaining, and Abigail is delightful, but. But he wanted to put her in magical peril to make this adventuresome, but that's delicate when she's a kid and also when Nightingale is around to say anything about it. So the result is that, from Abigail's POV, she thinks she's colluding with a white woman in order to get what they both want, which involves Abigail walking into peril. And from my perspective, I see a white adult with a lot of power deliberately sending a black child into danger in order to rescue a white kid. Which Abigail does not see at all, and neither does the book, judging by the ending. So a big yikes on that one.
lightreads: a partial image of a etymology tree for the Indo-European word 'leuk done in white neon on black'; in the lower left is (Default)
Fly Trap

4/5. Sequel to Fly by Night, though I read that years ago and had no trouble picking this up. Further adventures of a furious (and furiously smart) little girl and her pet goose (also furious, because goose) and her conman sorta mentor (not so much furious as quietly bewildered that he gives a damn) in a fantasy city strictly regulated by what your time of birth says about you.

Wonderful. Do I even need to say that? I will anyway. This is a very serious story about chance and privilege and survival told with real lightness and humor. There are a few visual gags here that felt very Pixar to me, like the goose died temporarily green for reasons, and extended scenes of street chases of multiple sets of people in those animal costumes where someone is the head and someone is the butt, also for reasons. I like Hardinge best in this mode (it's not that I dislike her less comedic books, but she's too good at everything she does, and I don't always have the gumption for, say, Cuckoo Song).

Thank goodness she is still putting out books, because I am running out of her catalog and that makes me sad.
lightreads: a partial image of a etymology tree for the Indo-European word 'leuk done in white neon on black'; in the lower left is (Default)
Spontaneous by Aaron Starmer

3/5. Snarky teenager recounts her senior year of high school, as members of her class begin, one at a time, to spontaneously explode in sudden and bloody fashion.

Gorey, funny, sad. The narrator is so authentically asshole teenager that I had to cover my eyes a lot. You'd probably enjoy this more if you are an asshole teenager yourself or fond of them. I, being neither, found her pathological self-centeredness a lot to take, but that's part of the point of the book. It tells you up front, this is the story of how a series of unpredictable and uncontrollable awful things happened to the people around her for the purpose of her telling you how that changed her. That's it. I enjoyed it, though that was sometimes despite this book rather than because of it (too much absurd in addition to too much asshole teenager).

Content notes: Bloody deaths, vague references to sexual assault.
lightreads: a partial image of a etymology tree for the Indo-European word 'leuk done in white neon on black'; in the lower left is (Default)
Return of the Thief

4/5. Conclusion to this long-running (in years, not pages) YA fantasy about the thief turned king.

I went on a journey with this one. I started out with oh come on, a completely new narrator again? and then very rapidly pivoted to oh, keep being amazing, sweetie, and from ugh, so she's keeping the main players off center stage for yet another book, come on to yeah . . . actually . . . Gen and Irene are exhausting, if we had to spend this whole book up close with them yelling at each other and having sex, I'd have to put it down every other page.

Anyway, I'm not actually sure this is terribly good as the end of a series. There are a lot of things solved by divine power (an actual lightning bolt!) that seemed to me to transgress some of the narrative rules of this universe, which was previously focused more satisfyingly on divine power operating painfully through human effort. I liked it better when all the gods did was tell Gen to stop whining. Still funny. But oh, this universe. Of course its final tale should be told by a young man with multiple severe disabilities. Of course. Absolutely no one else would do. I will miss them all, and what good friends they made (or, in several cases, more, even the offscreen queers arrrrrgh).

Content notes: References to the murder of disabled children, war, torture with few details, miscarriage and fears of maternal mortality.
lightreads: a partial image of a etymology tree for the Indo-European word 'leuk done in white neon on black'; in the lower left is (Default)
Minor Mage

4/5. Oliver only knows three spells, and one of them is to help him with his allergies. Nonetheless, his village sends him off to find the rains to end the drought.

An extremely charming late middle grade / early young adult tale of a boy and his armadillo familiar (the armadillo is the adult in the room, to be clear) making their way through travails and dangers. In addition to her usual light, humorous touch, this has a real sense of consequence and gravity. Oliver usually knows what the right thing to do is, but doing it doesn't always leave him feeling great. That's how it is sometimes, kiddo. Anyway, thematically this book is about the perils and virtues of collective action and individual action – the wisdom of crowds and the horror of crowds, the strength of the individual and the loneliness of the individual, that sort of thing.

Content notes: Various threats of violence, mostly offscreen child harm.
lightreads: a partial image of a etymology tree for the Indo-European word 'leuk done in white neon on black'; in the lower left is (Default)
Enchanted Glass

4/5. Thoroughly charming standalone about a kid who flees to the country home of what his grandmother said would be a great wizard, only to find the great wizard's grandson, a somewhat magical professor instead. Lots of dog and country fair hijinx and the fae and suchlike. Charming, that is, if you ignore the thing where the book tells you something cheerfully and you're like whoa wait what the fuck. You're talking about sexual exploitation of a young and vulnerable woman by an older powerful man, right? and the book is like la dah dah. So there's that.

The Lives of Christopher Chant

3/5. Chrestomanci. Christopher Chant has nine lives, and carries on wasting them doing stupid things with his rare power to travel between worlds. This was okay, but Christopher's privilege is so overwhelming from start to finish that his conflicts over whether he is going to bother to be a decent person or not didn't land for me. I mean, for real, he spends half the book sulking about how he is being trained to be the most powerful enchanter in the world when he'd rather be back at his posh boarding school playing cricket with all his rich friends. Okay dude, whatever, tiny violin.

Conrad's Fate

3/5. Better. Young man becomes a servant in a wealthy household to uncover who is making reality skip and reset itself. It turns out a running theme in these books is the terribleness of being a child in the power of manipulative adults. The ultimate resolution here has had all the sense surgically removed from it, but the journey is enjoyable, as Conrad learns to define himself instead of letting adults do it for their own ends. Also, Christopher appears, and the book is quite aware of how he is like 20% charming and 80% terrible from an outsider's perspective.

The Magicians of Caprona

2/5. Meh. Not in the mood for a book about rival magical Italian city-state magician families. I.e. a book about people being irrationally prejudiced against each other (they literally both think the other family smells bad), sprinkled with DWJ's cultural stereotypes about Italy. Good cats though.

Mixed Magics

3/5. Four Chrestomanci shorts, ranging from the cute (criminal leaps dimensions, ends up being bullied by a dog and a small child), to the . . . weird? (boy brings down a world of rules by asking questions of gods). But by this point I was starting to ask some uncomfortable questions about the Chrestomanci series in general, like so basically the rule here is that the most powerful man becomes the multiverse head cop and judge and jury? That's sure a system you've got going.
lightreads: a partial image of a etymology tree for the Indo-European word 'leuk done in white neon on black'; in the lower left is (Default)
Burn

3/5. A farmer and his mixed race daughter hire a dragon to clear fields for them in 1957. A teenaged assassin is on his way, though, because there's a dragon prophecy about the war that is coming.

This is a vividly-imagined, weird book. It lacks the gut punch quality of some of his other work, but it's doing all sorts of things with the various kinds and qualities of anger. That's worth talking about, particularly in the racist and homophobic context of this story. But I'm not sure this book holds up: the final thematic beat functions to simplify things, rather than complicate them, which is not what I expect out of Ness. Dragons are usually metaphors – for acquisitiveness in many stories, for greed in others – and I don't need the story to draw me a map and explain to me how gosh, did you realize these dragons are metaphors made flesh. Yeah bro, I got it. Teenagers aren't dumb, they'll get it too.

…And then I started wondering what the dragons in Pern externalize , and I was like uh, uncontrolled yet intensely heteronormative lust, duh.

Content notes: Racist violence and threats of racist sexual violence. Also lots of death.
lightreads: a partial image of a etymology tree for the Indo-European word 'leuk done in white neon on black'; in the lower left is (Default)
Planesrunner and Be My Enemy

3/5. YA about a math savant teenager who goes adventuring across the multiverses in pursuit of the kidnappers of his father, also airships.

Fun and stylish, with a very definite feel of those Doctor Who two-parters about alt Londons and Cybermen, with a strong dash of Stargate in there too. I didn't finish the trilogy because it's a smidge young for me, and the last book apparently goes down a path I'm not interested in, but I would give these to the right early teen.
lightreads: a partial image of a etymology tree for the Indo-European word 'leuk done in white neon on black'; in the lower left is (Default)
General Winston's Daughter

3/5. YA romantic fantasy about the general's daughter who joins him on campaign in the country he has just colonized, and how she starts to become fantasy woke as a rebellion brews and she falls out of love with her fiancé and into love with the wrong man.

Deceptively cute. This book leans hard into the heroine's bubbly, giggly persona for a long time. It's all shopping, parties, flirting – oh by the way, imperialism is bad. I kid. Mostly. This is a sweet, mildly shallow story with a surprising sting in the tail to lend it complexity in the end.
lightreads: a partial image of a etymology tree for the Indo-European word 'leuk done in white neon on black'; in the lower left is (Default)
and The Whispering Skull

3/5. YA about a ghost-hunting agency staffed entirely by teenagers in a world where you grow out of the ability to perceive the supernatural, but not out of the ability to be killed by it.

Fun. I almost said cute, but there's too much horror and the literary equivalent of jump scares for that. These hit every single beat I expected, exactly when I expected, which is not a criticism. I was only in the mood for the first two (of many) but if you like supernatural horror more than I do, and have a higher tolerance for teenaged emotional nonsense (not of the romantic sort, at least not yet) here you go.

Also, I don't actually care enough to google, but I have a theory these started as early trunk novels. Might explain the weird timelines – they're vaguely present day, yet no cell phones? No internet? It's an alternate timeline where ghosts are known but I'm not sure how adding ghosts subtracts connectivity.
lightreads: a partial image of a etymology tree for the Indo-European word 'leuk done in white neon on black'; in the lower left is (Default)
Pet

4/5. So this is interesting. It's a novella about a girl* in a (future…?) city several generations after it was convulsed by a truth and reconciliation type reckoning regarding violence an particularly many kinds of intra-family harm. Into this society which believes itself now safe emerges a terrifying creature from a painting. He says he is here to hunt a monster. He means a child abuser, and what that means for this culture which has "defeated" that kind of evil is very complicated.

This is doing a lot of stuff in a small space and for a YA (or younger) audience. It's about teaching yourself to see what is in front of you, not the story you are told, and about appropriate ways to handle this kind of crime for a person and for a society. And it bent my brain a little around new corners -- yeah, I thought, but we don't have this story that we've beaten this. We have the opposite story, that it can't be beat, that it's just how people are. That's worse, in a way. But then I thought actually, no, we do have this story. Some people do, anyway. But it's smaller, and it goes like 'that can't happen in my family' and not 'that can't happen in my city.'

Also, I was initially startled to discover that the protagonists (who have a really beautiful friendship, btw) are in their late teens, as I had initially glossed them as much younger. Eleven, maybe? And I tried to figure out why they seemed so young, and I realized it's that they start this book not even knowing what abuse is. Like they need to go get the semi-forbidden pamphlets from the library to find out. And that's what made them seem too young for their age. And that is a really sad scale to be measuring on, but apparently it's what I was doing.

*She's actually a trans girl of color with a disability (selective mutism, though she also seems neurodiverse in a few other ways), if you want the whole tag set.
lightreads: a partial image of a etymology tree for the Indo-European word 'leuk done in white neon on black'; in the lower left is (Default)
Incarceron

3/5. YA about a boy trapped inside a vast sentient scifi prison, and the daughter of the warden living on the outside, and what happens when they find a way to communicate.

Diverting but clumsy. There's some nice atmosphere here, but the twists are signaled with such thudding obviousness that it verges on the insulting. I don't know if this is just how Fisher writes, or if she thinks that's what you need to do in YA. Either way, I figured out the three largest reveals in the first 15%.
lightreads: a partial image of a etymology tree for the Indo-European word 'leuk done in white neon on black'; in the lower left is (Default)
Feeling Sorry for Celia

3/5. Cute YA epistolary novel about an Australian teenager dealing with teenaged stuff through sticky note conversations with her mother and letter exchanges with her pen pal. Sweet, with a light touch even for very serious stuff happening – a pregnancy scare, breakups, first kisses, family drama, best friend drama, a sorta kinda suicide attempt. It's charming and I would totally get this for a teen, or even a precocious tween. Though that would probably require answering a lot of questions about why they don't just email each other and WTF is this fax nonsense. Note this was published in 2000.
lightreads: a partial image of a etymology tree for the Indo-European word 'leuk done in white neon on black'; in the lower left is (Default)
The Amazing Maurice and His Educated Rodents

3/5. Cleaning up the last of the Pratchetts that I never got to. This is a mostly inconsequential little book about a talking cat and some talking rats who have been pulling a con in various towns, only to discover someone else is pulling a far worse con in their new target. It includes the themes he did better elsewhere, like making stories out of life vs. making life out of stories. But the cat is pretty great. Though let's be real, how often do I read a talking cat that I'm not into.

Profile

lightreads: a partial image of a etymology tree for the Indo-European word 'leuk done in white neon on black'; in the lower left is (Default)
lightreads

May 2025

S M T W T F S
    123
456 78910
1112131415 1617
18192021222324
25262728293031

Syndicate

RSS Atom

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated May. 21st, 2025 04:48 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios