weave my words into worlds

It was a cute and fast read, but those last 100 pages took off two stars for me. Formal review to come.

I normally don't take much interest in celebrity biographies, but Alfie Boe is such a fantastic man that I'll make an exception. He has true talent and seems like the type who would write an honest, insightful book.

Oh, do I ever need a book like this.

3.5 stars.

When I said this would be a quick read, I underestimated myself. I read the first volume of Brody's Ghost in half an hour. Not that this is a huge accomplishment, because the book really is quite short. It's hard to give a solid rating to something that only took up thirty minutes of my time.

I liked the artwork. Brody and Talia's character designs were quite interesting and easy on the eyes, and while Brody's Ghost isn't as "manga-y" as the graphic novels I see my friends reading, it still is a manga style. The plot (or beginnings of it) wasn't groundbreaking, but I kept reading because I'm interested in the genre, and it wasn't clichéd enough to make me put the book down.

I got a bit annoyed with Talia's "ya" instead of "you" and "gotta" instead of "got to"--I couldn't tell if she was supposed to have a New York accent or if it was meant to make her seem more girly or if it was just a stylistic choice.

So, not blow-your-socks-off-can't-stop-thinking-about-it-amazing, but not bad, either. I'll probably check out the sequels when I get money to spare.

I've waited way too long to review this. It should be more like 2.5 stars.

At first, Eventide seemed like the perfect book for me. It gave me a nice escape and had a variety of character types. Now, I'm not saying I hated the book, but it got worse as it went on and several things just didn't sit right with me. Some of my annoyances may have been blown out of proportion due to the fact that I read the last 150 pages with a painful IV in my arm during a 4-hour glucose test.

I liked the premise. It seemed a tiny bit far-fetched, but a bard collecting stories to tell a dragon in order to keep said dragon from burning down a village? Sure. I'll go along with it.

However, the premise itself turned out to contribute to one of the book's faults. It really was just a collection of stories. None of them had much to do with each other and ended up seeming almost pointless, especially because the dragon still came at the end. That was another thing. The prologue made this big deal of Edvard having a year to go back to see the dragon and tell him all the stories, but then we never even found out if Edvard did go and the dragon was just a liar or if Edvard just forgot about the whole point of his journey.

Some parts baffled me a bit, too. Like the ending? A character death came out of nowhere and I couldn't even figure out when it had happened or how, but it seemed like I was supposed to be upset about it. And the whole murder trial never made sense either. I never understood why they chose the verdict they did--there were too many characters masquerading as other characters to keep track of.

I liked Jarod because he was a boring person without being a totally boring character, but the whole "Lie to the girl of your dreams! Pretend to be someone you're not! That'll work out for sure!" cliché was thrown in and it ticked me off that Edvard suggested it and that Jarod fell for it.

There were so many things that were just never explained. Caprice and her sisters were "wish women" or whatever you called them, but we never found out why the well broke or how the family had anything to do with watching over the well. I wanted to like Caprice, and she seemed like a somewhat decent female character, but every time she came into the story I just got confused.

This rant is kind of going nowhere. Suffice it to say that Eventide felt incomplete and confusing and I just didn't end up satisfied. I'm not sure if I'd recommend it or not.

The more I think about it, the more I realize how much I liked After Hello. I came away from the book the first time thinking it was about 3.5 stars, but now, I would give it a 4.5 or even a tentative 5. It's grown on me quite a bit.

I'm not a big-city person by any means, but the descriptions of New York make me fall in love with it anyway. Lisa Mangum does a wonderful job of conveying that bustling energy of city life. In fact, the descriptions in general are beautiful. I just can't even. The images in my head were pretty clear, which is more of a surprise than it should be, considering that the purpose of books is to translate words into images in your mind.

Sam and Sara make a cute and healthy couple. Their relationship doesn't feel forced, even though it happens over such a short time period. They teach each other good life lessons and, there's no other way to put it, they were just cute. I find myself wanting to read more about them.

I have no way of judging Sara's past because I've never experienced anything like it, but she's still easy to relate to. She makes some mistakes and sometimes her thought process is a little short-sighted, but that's exactly what makes her feel so human. I haven't experienced Sam's trauma, either, but I can relate to his anxiety and constant need to move around.

I loved their excursion to the cathedral, especially. Daniel might be my favorite side character, and I liked how it gives us a hint about Sam's past without shoving it in the face of the reader.

My only real problem with After Hello is an issue that it shares with, in my opinion, the other books of its genre. Realistic fiction proves difficult for me. If the plot is interesting, the realism suffers; if the plot is 100% realistic and relatable, you might as well read a biography instead. I've never read a novel that has found the perfect balance between truth and intrigue.

That said, I wouldn't discourage anyone else from reading After Hello, because I still adore it. As I've said, the characters are likable. It doesn't involve an abusive relationship that the author wants us to pass off as "romance"--and thank goodness, because we have enough of those already. The messages and lessons are admirable.

I'd be interested to see a film adaptation, since Sarah's photos and Sam's observance give the book strong visuals that would work well on the big screen.

I'll admit that, if I'd had Mrs. Lake to give me assignments on Ethan Frome, I probably would have liked it more. My real rating is 1.5 stars.

One thing I enjoyed every now and then was the description. Most of the imagery felt unique and gave me a clear idea of the characters' surroundings. However, this came with a price called "purple prose" or, sometimes, just too much description in general. For example: every freaking movement of Mattie's eyelashes was a dramatic marvel worth spending a sentence and six commas on. Actually, it seemed everything was a dramatic marvel worth spending several sentences on. *headdesk* Show me a man--nay, a person who pays that much attention to their lover's eye lashes, and I will give you five dollars. Some people praise the book for its realism, and while I agree on most accounts, I couldn't quite get past that.

The prologue was 26 pages in my edition. For the entire 26 pages, I had no idea who was talking to me. No name, no gender. I guess the last scene is more powerful from the perspective of someone other than Ethan, but that ticked me off.

Now, put Ethan Frome out of your mind. Picture the following: A man falls in love with a girl who is the equivalent of his maid. Alas, they cannot be together because the man is married to another, much less desirable woman. The man has no way to get out of his unfortunate marriage. Sound familiar? The novel felt like a slight rip-off of Jane Eyre, which was published years before Edith Wharton was even born. Not to say Wharton plagiarized or anything. That sort of thing happens a lot in the writing world. Still, I'll take Jane Eyre over Ethan Frome any day.

I haven't listed all of my issues with Ethan Frome, but I've said the major ones. And I'd rather write an angry rant about a novel that is a real abomination to mankind than complain about this one, which is just mildly irritating and boring.

BEFORE READING: I had a story idea about a cab driver once. The plot actually sounded a lot like the synopsis... Good thing I didn't write it, or that could have turned into a plagiarism case. Ha! Anyway, since it seems my heart has a special place for cab drivers with issues, I think I'll enjoy it.

This novel will have to go on hold while I commit to other studies in my life. I read it once when I was young, but I don't remember my thoughts on it, and I think so much flew over my head that it deserves a second read.

Will contain unhidden spoilers for the first book and hidden spoilers for the second.

Seeds of Rebellion is one of those books where the "whoa" factor increases the longer I think about it.

As with the first book in the series, I had problems with Seeds of Rebellion, but I can overlook or forgive most of them.

A few parts drag. When I read the book for the first time, Moira's story bored me a little and I wished she could have just summed it up in a few sentences, like so: "I fell in love with a giant and, only having seen him during the day, I did not know his other form. We had a child together before he told me his secret. This makes Aram a half-giant." Like that, but with better writing. I guess that Brandon Mull didn't go for that option because, since he can't show the event in present tense, he wanted to at least tell about it in detail.

This was a problem in Fablehaven as well, but the characters' (mainly Jason and Rachel) speech patterns don't match their age. The natives of Lyrian grew up speaking what's more typical of fantasy characters, so while their dialogue still required some willful suspension of disbelief, I could deal with it. And maybe Jason and Rachel just talk the same way because they're around all the other characters so much. Granted, it is more pleasant to read, but it still kept me from totally believing the main characters.

And poor Jason. The female main character gets the cool powers again? Yay for Rachel, but I hope he finds some way to compensate in the next book.

Those were my main pet peeves. As for everything else...

Arimfreakingfexendrapuse. This world is just so interesting. Mull creates his own species that are just familiar enough to keep you comfortable but unique enough to be interesting. The Amar Kabal are reminiscent of elves, but I love that they don't live extremely long lives--they just live a ton of average ones. I like the spin on the giant species, too. Displacers are just the coolest things ever, even though most of them are despicable. No, I don't say "most" just because I have a crush on Ferrin. Shut up. And the torivors. Great prongs of Dendalus. (He even made his own swear words. Yeeees.) So horrifying and foreign, yet so real.

The locations all have such interesting backstories. I hate the Sunken Lands even more than Rachel, so reading about it is both fascinating and disgusting. The Seven Vales sound beautiful, Ebera is horror-movie-bad just like Jason says, the jungle leaves me unsettled, and I loved that we spent some time in Ithilum--a simple town by the beach, mostly populated by thieves and bad entertainers ("Humbid has declared war on Ithilum!") but with some decent people left.

Then you have the characters. It got hard to keep track of some of them by the end, but I just love how much I can relate to most of them and they are well thought-out. I see a lot of myself in Tark, Ferrin, Nedwin, and Corinne. They all have interesting pasts, most of which threaten to break my heart a little. Ferrin's emotions are just so complex yet understandable--I could ramble about him for hours. Any mention of Drake pretty much makes me sad because this is his final lifetime and I don't ever want to lose his sarcasm. Those of you who say gingers don't have souls, I dare you to read about Nedwin and continue to believe it. Even Nollin isn't just the obnoxious guy who wants to prove everyone wrong. He makes mistakes; he has fears

This series may also be the only one where I actually ship characters who aren't canon. Don't judge me.

As you can see, I become a rambling mess when it comes to Beyonders. If anyone is still reading right now... bless your soul.

I'll just finish by saying that I can't wait for the next book, and now I think I will commence fangirling elsewhere.

This review contains spoilers, but I will hide them.

I have to admit that I have mixed feelings about A World Without Heroes. It had its share of issues, but I enjoyed it. And the more I think about it, the more I like it. But let's start with the bad:

First off, the writing: I thought the prologue was beautiful and loved the style there, but the chapters that followed proved an adjustment. Some of the sentences had so many prepositions in a row (e.g. "The rock stood by a large cave in the middle of the ocean between two cliffs in the land of Scroodleydoo.") that I could not get a grip of the surroundings before the next sentence came. True, I tend to read too fast. Maybe both of these contributed. The beginning was also slow enough that I had to give the book two tries before I could finish.

The plot seemed a bit clunky and odd at times, but I got used to it. When you think about it, though, most high-fantasy books have a similar formula. After falling in love with Mull's previous fictional world, Fablehaven, Lyrian just took some adjustment.

Now, the good:

I did not attach to the main characters in A World Without Heroes quite as much as those in Fablehaven. However, Rachel and Jason still felt real enough for me to keep reading. They have some enjoyable banter, and I like the realistic plot point that they aren't friends just because they're both strangers in a new world. It takes time for them to get used to each other. The characters I loved best, though, were The Blind King (as a prince in particular) and Ferrin. Their personalities, motives, and pasts intrigued me. Oh, Ferrin. His true allegiance shocked me, and when Rachel learned that displacers were spies, I wanted to cry. The betrayal meant something, it seemed authentic, and I loved the way Ferrin felt about the entire thing--how he liked Jason and Rachel but did not side with them for the sake of his own safety. If these characters were real, I would be a much happier person.

It's difficult to review this book without giving anything away when I've read the sequel... so I'll try to focus my attention on the second book's review to spare you from irrelevant rambling.

If you count Daylight Savings Time, I was up until 3 in the morning finishing the book. I don't do this with books I hate. Overall, A World Without Heroes had enough issues to annoy me a bit, but not enough for me to dislike it and certainly not enough to keep me from picking up the next in the series when it comes out.

(Before reading)

Huh, a match made in a support group? That's something I wish would have happened to me.

(After reading)

I'm still too lazy to write a full review, but I'm sure my rating looks a little out of place amidst all the 5-star reviews. I wanted to adore this book. It was my first time reading anything from John Green, and I'd heard amazing things about it, and now that I'm a nerdfighter I have even more respect for John Green. While I liked The Fault In Our Stars, though, it just... didn't "click" for me.

People post that it made them sob, made them laugh, made them rethink their lives, they couldn't look at the world the same way anymore, etc. But that just didn't happen for me. I knew from reading the summary that Augustus was going to die. While I laughed at several moments and I felt sorry for the characters at a few others, I just never felt that strongly. I didn't cry at all or even have the urge to. I knew that the author of An Imperial Affliction would turn out to be a jerk, and I didn't really have much sympathy for Hazel and Augustus when they didn't find out what happened to Anna. I mean, that's what books are about. They're supposed to leave you thinking, and if the author didn't write about something, then it's suggested that the readers could go without knowing for the rest of their lives and be fine. I just never felt much sympathy. Sad things happened, but they never felt real or connected to me, so I would just think, "Aw, that sucks. Moving on."

I don't know why I didn't love this book as much as so many others. Maybe it's just not the right genre for me. I still read through excerpts of it and I own a copy, so it's not that it's stupid or bad or poorly-written. I wouldn't tell anyone to stay away from The Fault In Our Stars, because odds are they would love it like most of the rest of the human population. I just didn't feel what the book suggested I should have felt. So... sorry, John Green. I'm still a nerdfighter and I'm still a fan.

This sounds like the kind of book that might trigger some anxiety for me... We'll see how it goes.

I'm not sure if I'd give Wolves... a 3 or 2.5. My thoughts aren't too organized, seeing as I woke up at four this morning, so I'm going for the bullet-point route.

Good Stuff:

-K.J. had an enjoyable voice, usually, giving me a few laughs or "Oh, that's so true" moments.
-It's hard to be original these days, what with how many books people have already written, but Chandler still has some new methods of describing not-so-new ideas. I can definitely appreciate that. She also did pretty well at avoiding the purple-prose that plagues most YA novels today. There were still a few times when I wanted to roll my eyes.
-I thought the wolf descriptions were quite interesting, not to mention pretty and sometimes a little too relatable.

Not-As-Good Stuff:

-Remember how I mentioned K.J.'s narrative? As I said, I enjoyed it. However, a few passages rubbed my not-so-inner feminist the wrong way.
-The other characters weren't as developed as I would have liked. Most of the school kids, though funny and created with some elements of truth in them, were basically stereotypes.
-The main plot of the book irritated me a bit. It's not exactly ground-breaking, and the whole "Everyone in the town except the nerds and my relatives and my crush are against us and even though this jock kid has a good side to him he's the one to blame we have to get the town to listen to us" thing got boring after a while.

If you're wondering about content, it contains very mild swearing and some references to puberty. Nothing really questionable.

Overall, I wouldn't call Wolves... an amazing piece of literature, but it's a simple and fairly light read that can keep you entertained on a sick day.

Goodreads needs an option for .5 stars. (If I had the choice, I would give 4.5. Maybe a 4.75.)

For the most part, I loved it. Viola and Todd are wonderful characters among a large cast of believable, interesting characters; the book is generally well-written; and it will stay with me. Please remember this as I point out the issues I had with Monsters of Men.

I practically soared through the first 375 pages. I rarely put the book down... until I reached the last third of the book. I just had so much trouble finishing this thing. The main conflict had ended, at this point, and I knew that something had to happen to take up the rest of the book, but I just couldn't motivate myself to keep reading. I think this has a lot to do with my depressive and anxious tendencies, though. Long story short, I'd had a bit of a panic attack a while before I started to read this, and the way the third perspective in the story was written just... triggered me. I didn't have the courage to pick it up again for a few weeks. What I'm saying is, Patrick Ness isn't really to blame. Maybe, if my mind was whole while I was reading this series, I could have appreciated it as much as it probably deserved.

I did have a few other teensy problems. And if you haven't read the book, do not click the spoilers. I do not want to be the one to ruin the conclusion for you!

The ending made me think of West-Side story, honestly, what with Todd dying, and Viola holding the acid rifle, trying to decide if she should shoot The Sky. I know, you're probably thinking, "But Maxy, this is much higher quality than West Side Story!". And it is. Ness executed this more tastefully than that. I just still had a problem with it.

Then you have the very very end. The main character is dead, first of all, then the last sentence implies that he's coming back to life. The ending makes sense for the series, but I feel like no one else could get away with it without it being dismissed as some sort of lazy or melodramatic soap opera ending. It walks such a thin line. I guess that's what bothers me. It's so... I don't know how to describe it. Different, but I can't quite tell if it's good different or bad different. Am I making sense?

Anyway, don't let me discourage you from reading it. This is an amazingly well-done series.

[Monsters of Men is basically the same deal content-wise as the first two books. You can look at my other reviews if you're curious.]

I've waited too long to review The Ask and the Answer.

I do remember loving it--not as much as the first book, perhaps, but still loving it. As in The Knife of Never Letting Go, it had minor things that annoyed me, along with some typos, but these things didn't severely change my view of the story. I suppose I am still irritated that Todd let the Mayor go at the end, and I had a little trouble with the fact that two boys end up falling for Viola. What is with this trend in YA literature? Anyway.

...For Those of You Wondering About Content...

Violence: intense events, such as torture scenes; quite a bit of violence in general
Language: no f-bombs; other cussing throughout, but perhaps not as much as in the first book
Other: Again, the series is heavy. I would have some serious qualms about giving this to anyone under 13 or 14.

If made into a movie, it would probably receive a PG-13 rating for violence, language, and thematic elements.