Review: Good Dirt (by Charmaine Wilkerson)

My Rating: 4 stars

I really enjoyed Charmaine Wilkerson’s debut novel Black Cake, which I found to be a very interesting story told in a way that was so different from what I had read before.  That story was told not just from multiple perspectives, but also jumped around through multiple locations and time periods; plot-wise, the narrative unfolded around a female protagonist, a treasured family heirloom, and secrets from the past that significantly impact the characters’ present and futures, all while shining a light on aspects of history.  Wilkerson’s sophomore effort, Good Dirt, follows largely the same pattern structurally, yet it is also a completely different story. 

The story begins with a tragedy – 10-year-old Ebby Freeman is playing hide-and-seek with her beloved 15-year-old brother Baz at their home in an affluent New England neighborhood when two men enter and shoot Baz dead.  The tragedy garners massive media attention, mostly due to the fact that the Freemans are one of the few African American families living in an exclusive enclave where all the other wealthy families are predominantly white.  Despite the media frenzy over the case, the crime is never solved.  Ebby, now 29-years-old, is about to be married to Henry Pepper, who is also from an affluent and influential New England family, but on her wedding day, her fiancé ghosts her, leaving her to deal with yet another barrage of unwanted media attention when her family is thrust back into the spotlight due to the high-profile nature of the relationship.  Ebby ends up fleeing to France, where she hopes that a solitary retreat at her friend Hannah’s village house will help her heal – a hope that is upended when Ebby’s past catches up to her.  At the same time, Ebby continues to deal with the trauma of Baz’s death 18 years ago and the survivor’s guilt that has followed her since that moment she found her brother lying bloodied on the floor of their home, surrounded by shattered pieces of a stoneware jar – an heirloom that had been in their family for nearly two centuries.  The heirloom’s significance – both to Ebby’s family as well as to her own future – becomes the main thread that links the narrative’s various threads together.

Just like Black Cake, this story is beautifully written and one that explores complex themes of grief, trauma, racism, etc. interwoven with heartbreak and loss, yet also balances this with themes of love, courage, resilience, and hope.  Ebby is a character I couldn’t help rooting for – Wilkerson did a great job developing her character arc in such a way that it was easy to connect with her experiences despite being from different backgrounds.  I also appreciated how part of the story was told from Ebby’s parents’ points of view as well, which provided important insight and perspective on the various events that happen in the novel.  The historical elements also blended nicely with the present-day timeline, as Wilkerson explored the Freeman family’s origins as well as the significance of the heirloom that played such a central role in the story.

This one is highly recommended, especially if you enjoyed Wilkerson’s phenomenal debut.  For me, both books were equally great reads, though I think Black Cake stuck with me more because it dealt with more obscure history that was less familiar to me.  Either way, Good Dirt is a well-told, fascinating, and thought-provoking story definitely worth the read!

Received ARC from Ballantine Books via NetGalley.

Review: The Lost Story (by Meg Shaffer)

My Rating: 5 stars

 

I had read Meg Shaffer’s debut The Wishing Game last year and absolutely adored it.  That story was an imaginative, bookish take on Charlie and the Chocolate Factory that was both charming and endearing.  This time around, with The Lost Story, Shaffer takes her inspiration from another children’s classic, The Chronicles of Narnia, while also paying tribute to fairy tales and the world of make-believe in the process. 

 

In all honesty, I don’t have words to describe how I felt reading this beautifully written story – one that drew me in from the very first page and I never wanted to end.  This was such a fun, delightful, charming story – truly a fairytale in every way, from its structure (with its storyteller who begins the story with “once upon a time” and ends it with “happily ever after”) to its magical, make-believe world consisting of castles and unicorns, heroes and heroines, knights in shining armor, villains that disappear and reappear in puffs of smoke, animals with the intelligence of humans, huge thousand feet trees with leaves in every color of the rainbow, etc. – yet on the other hand, this was also a very “adult” story that dealt with some very real and difficult issues (such as abuse, discrimination, bullying, for example).  Just like in a fairy tale, there was a deeply profound and meaningful moral lesson buried underneath the fantastical elements, but everything blended together so seamlessly that, at times, it was easy to get lost in the tale itself. There was so much to love with this one:  the characters were wonderfully-rendered and I actually loved all of them (Rafe, Jeremy, Emilie, Skya, as well as all the supporting characters) from the moment I met them within the first few pages, but I especially loved the way the characters interacted with each other; the descriptions of both the real and fantasy worlds were breathtaking and so well done that I definitely felt like I was completely immersed in a different time and place; the humor was also wonderfully done and there were so many scenes that had me laughing so hard, I started getting stomach cramps; most important of all however, was the underlying “lost and found” storyline (especially the one involving Rafe and Jeremy) that was both powerful and moving. 

 

This was no doubt an emotional read for me – a roller coaster ride that had me laughing one minute and crying the next.  At the same time, I also couldn’t help feeling a bit nostalgic and wistful due to all the memories that this brought back from my childhood – as an avid reader, I of course read everything I could get my hands on, but I especially loved fairy tales.  One of my favorite books growing up was a special hardbound edition of Grimm’s Fairy Tales that I had read so much that it eventually fell apart to the point that I was forced to get rid of it (which still pains me when I think about it even now).  The fact that I essentially stopped reading fairy tales after that incident (plus my reading tastes after I became an adult were markedly different from what I used to read as a child), made the nostalgia feel even more poignant.  Getting the chance to revisit this aspect of my childhood through Shaffer’s story was definitely a welcome escape from all the craziness that has been a part of my life in recent months.

I don’t want to say much more about this book because revealing too many details would spoil the magic.  If you loved Shaffer’s debut The Wishing Game as much as I did, definitely pick up this sophomore novel of hers – it’s written in the same vein, yet also vastly different in many aspects.  Even though I ended up loving this one just a tad bit more, both are amazing reads that I highly, highly recommend!

Received ARC from Ballantine Books via NetGalley.

Review: Shelterwood (by Lisa Wingate)

 

My Rating: 4 stars

I’ve been quite a bit behind on my leisure reading as of late and while I hope to catch back up as soon as possible, the reality is that it will be a challenge with peak summer reading right around the corner.  In addition to being busy with work and school, a few of my favorite authors actually have books coming out this summer, so it goes without saying that I will definitely be doing some prioritizing over the next couple weeks in order to get to everything. With that said, I’ve been able to squeeze in a May / June new release here and there.  This time around, the book is Shelterwood, the newest release from Before We Were Yours author Lisa Wingate.

When it comes to dual timeline historical fiction, I usually prefer the past timeline over the present one, but this time around, I felt that the present timeline, which took place in 1990, was much more engaging than the one from 1909.  I think this might be because for most of the 1909 narrative, I had no idea where the story was headed – the pace was slower, some parts didn’t feel entirely believable, and few of the scenes seemed a bit too farfetched, a little like drama was being created for drama’s sake.  The 1990 narrative, in comparisons, moved at a much faster pace and I felt more invested in the story (though I noticed these sections were much shorter than the historical narrative, which made the overall pacing much slower than I would have liked).  Having said all that, I like that Wingate brought both timelines together in a way that was meaningful and memorable; in all honesty, that moment when all the pieces started falling into place and I finally understood the historical situation that Wingate was trying to shine a light on was when I truly became engaged in the story – though I wish it hadn’t taken so long (more than half the book) to get there.

I love historical fiction because of the way the genre makes history so interesting and I always learn something, even if I’m already familiar with the subject matter I’m reading about.  In this case, I knew nothing about Oklahoma’s history and the guardian system that indirectly sanctioned the stealing of land from indigenous children, so I appreciated getting to learn about this (though I highly recommend also reading the Author’s Note, as Wingate recounts the history in way more detail and, for me at least, clarified a few aspects of the narrative that didn’t make a lot of sense at first).

Lastly, I wanted to put in a quick mention about the characters.  My favorite stories are the ones with strong, tenacious female protagonists who aren’t afraid to go against the grain – both Ollie (from the past narrative) and Val (from the present narrative) were precisely this kind of protagonist, which I absolutely appreciated.

This one is definitely recommended, though a little bit of patience is needed to reach the payoff at the end.  For me, it was worth it!

 Received ARC from Ballantine Books via NetGalley.

Review: The Book of Fire (by Christy Lefteri)

My Rating: 5 stars

Happy New Year!  I hope everyone had a wonderful holiday season and that, like me, you were able to spend some time immersed in a good book! :-)

Kicking off the new year, I've been busy with my studies, but I did get the chance to squeeze in one of the January 2024 ARCs on my list, so I'm happy about that.

I chose to start my reading year with a new release from an author whose works I've loved since reading her debut novel, The Beekeeper of Aleppo, a few years back. In my opinion, Christy Lefteri is an underrated and under appreciated author whose works everyone should be reading.  She writes in a way that is atmospheric and poetic, with beautifully-rendered descriptions of time and place that make us, the readers, feel completely immersed.  

Lefteri sets her third novel in a Greek village where a devastating wildfire has ravaged the once-idyllic forest, destroying nearly everything — living and non-living — in its path. A close and loving family used to live in that forest:  Irini, a talented musician who could play the most beautiful songs with the instruments handed down over generations from her father and grandfather; her husband Tasso, an artist who could paint the forest so realistically that the sights and sounds of nature seemed to come alive just looking at the paintings; and their 10-year-old daughter Chara, a happy and playful girl whose name means "joy." Along with their devoted greyhound Rosalie, the family lived in a picturesque environment surrounded by the beauty of nature.  However, on a fateful day that starts off just like any other day, their paths cross with the fire and within hours, their lives are changed forever.  Their bungalow in the forest is destroyed (along with all of Irini's instruments), Tasso's hands are burned to the point that he can no longer paint, Chara endures second-degree burns that leave horrific scars, and Irini's father-in-law Lazaros goes missing (he's presumed dead).  Many of their friends and neighbors are either dead or missing, while those who survived are physically and emotionally scarred for life.  As if that were not enough, everywhere they turn, they are forced to witness the charred remains of the destruction around them  — the trees burned down to stumps, the barren ground where abundant plants and flowers once grew, and the pervasive, choking smell of burnt things.  Months later, the family (and the village) haven't completely come to terms with all they lost, but are actively trying to rebuild and move on with their lives.  It is during this time that Irini inadvertently encounters the man responsible for destroying their lives — a land speculator she refers to as Mr. Monk, who had started the fire on a small piece of land he didn't own in the hopes of acquiring it (illegally), not expecting it to rage out of control like it ended up doing.  Mr. Monk is mysteriously injured and appears to be on the brink of death — when Irini finds out who he is, she makes a last minute decision out of anger, which follows her for the rest of the story.  The investigation that follows will bring to light some painful truths about the community and its interactions with its surrounding environment.

As she did with her previous two novels, Lefteri once again delivers a hauntingly beautiful, emotional story that is at once heartbreaking and poignant, but also hopeful in its portrayal of humanity in the wake of tragedy.  Lefteri has a gift for writing about real-life (often controversial and difficult) issues relevant to society in a way that is thought-provoking and meaningful, yet not heavy-handed or preachy — in The Beekeeper of Aleppo, it was immigration and refugees fleeing from the situation in Syria; in Songbirds, it was the exploitation of foreign domestic workers in Cyprus; now in The Book of Fire, she explores the relationship of humans with nature and the wide-ranging effects that our actions can have on our environment.  I live in Southern California and remember the deadly 2018 wildfires that Lefteri mentions in her Author's Note (which, by the way, is a must-read in and of itself) as well as the many other fires that have occurred in the region the past few years, so this story definitely resonated with me.  The dilemma that Irini faces in the story is a difficult one and I will admit that if I were in her shoes, I would have probably struggled as well.  I finished this book a few days ago, yet I'm still thinking about this story and its endearingly-drawn characters. Needless to say, I will definitely be on the lookout for what Lefteri comes out with next!

Received ARC from Ballantine Books via NetGalley.

Review: The Wishing Game (by Meg Shaffer)

My Rating: 4.5 stars

Meg Shaffer's smart, whimsical, and utterly delightful debut novel The Wishing Game is the feel-good story I didn't know I needed!   

Inspired by the beloved children's classic Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, this was a retelling of sorts, but set in the world of books.  Instead of a chocolate factory, there's a "writing factory" that is the home to Jack Masterson, the reclusive and eccentric children's author of the mega-bestselling Clock Island series.  The fantastical book series is so beloved in part because of the books' ability to help the children who read them find solace and comfort during difficult times in their lives.  One of those children is Lucy Hart, who grew up in a family with parents who were neglectful and ended up abandoning her in favor of her older sister Angie.  To combat her loneliness, Lucy found solace in books, especially the Clock Island series, with its magical world where a mysterious figure named Master Mastermind "granted wishes to brave children" and in so doing, helped them face and overcome their fears.  Many years later, 26-year-old Lucy is a teacher's aide at an elementary school in California, where she meets 7-year-old Christopher Lamb, an orphan in foster care with whom she develops a close relationship.  Her biggest wish is to adopt Christopher and give him a forever home, but unfortunately, her lack of funds and unstable living environment make that wish all but impossible.  It's during this time that Jack Masterson, who had mysteriously quit writing 6 years ago, re-emerges and announces that he has written a new book in the Clock Island series – not only that, he has devised a contest where specially chosen readers of his books will get to compete for the sole copy.  When Lucy is chosen as one of the 4 contestants who receives the "golden ticket" – the invitation to travel to the real Clock Island (located off the coast of Maine) to compete for the coveted prize – she sees the opportunity to finally make her wish come true.  But it won't be easy, as Lucy not only has to beat out 3 other contestants who have equally compelling reasons for needing to win, she also has to deal with Hugo Reese, the illustrator of the Clock Island books and Jack's caretaker of sorts on the island.  Unbeknownst to all of them though, Jack actually has reasons of his own for putting on the contest that could end up changing the lives of all involved in ways they weren't expecting.

This was a charming, clever, inner story that sucked me in right from the first page.  Shaffer did a magnificent job with the world-building in this story, to the point that I was blown away by how simultaneously similar and different this was from its inspiration, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.   There were the obvious parallels of course:  the stand-in for the chocolate factory, which in this case was the setting of Clock Island, with each location whimsically named based on the segments of a clock (such as 'The City of Second Hand' or 'Nine O'Clock Dock' or 'One O'Clock Picnic Spot'); the character of Jack Masterson, whose eccentric personality and endearing nature gives off serious Willy Wonka vibes;  the contest where the lucky recipients of the blue envelope containing the invitation (equivalent to the golden ticket in the chocolate bar) are the ones who get to go visit Clock Island; the main protagonist coming from a poor background and so the opportunity that the "golden ticket" presents is particularly life-changing.  But there were also significant differences, with the obvious one being the romantic storyline between Lucy and Hugo; the literary theme involving the fictional Clock Island book series (complete with excerpts from the books scattered throughout the story);  the exploration of various "heavy" topics such as parental abuse and neglect, illness and death, the foster care system, the effect of childhood trauma lasting into adulthood, free choice versus circumstance, etc. — all of these topics were covered in a way that acknowledged their importance but wasn't heavy-handed (which I appreciated), while also fitting perfectly with the vibe of the book (whimsical, light-hearted, hopeful, etc).

Another element that was done really well in here was the humor, which felt very natural and seamless throughout the story.  I love banter between characters that isn't deliberately funny, but still has the ability to make me laugh, and there was the perfect amount of that in this story.  It's even more wonderful when the banter isn't just between the characters in a romantic relationship (though yes, it was fun following the back and forth between Lucy and Hugo in most of their scenes), but also features significantly into the relationships between the other characters as well.  I especially enjoyed the dynamics of Jack and Hugo's "pseudo father/son" relationship, which had me laughing one minute and moved to tears the next minute.  Actually, the various relationship dynamics was one of the main elements that set this story apart from its inspiration, which is also what made the story more compelling in my opinion.

If I had to sum this one up, I would say that it's an imaginative, magical, bookish take on Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, but for adults.  It's also a story with lots of heart (I agree with everyone who said reading this book is like getting a big warm hug, lol), but what I love most is its underlying message about hope and wishes as well as the power of books to change lives.  A wonderful homage to books and reading as well as a tribute to a childhood favorite (I love how Shaffer dedicated this book to "Charlie"), this is a book that I highly recommend and hope that many readers will love it as much as I did.

P.S.:  The cover of this book is absolutely gorgeous!  I read an e-ARC of this one, but I'm actually considering buying a physical copy so I can pull it out and look at the cover whenever I feel like it. 

Received ARC from Ballantine Books via NetGalley.

Review: The Golden Doves (by Martha Hall Kelly)



My Rating: 2.5 stars

For the second time this month, looks like I am once again an outlier who didn't like a book written by a popular author that everyone else seemed to really enjoy.  In both instances, the reasons why I disliked the books were very similar, even though the genres, styles, and story lines were completely different (more on this later).  The interesting thing is that, with both authors, I had read previous books by them and had enjoyed those immensely, but their newest releases I disliked to the point of nearly breaking my own rule and giving them the DNF treatment (in the end, I hung on, but barely, since I had to resort to skimming large sections of both books in order to get through them).  It's also possible that the previous books were also problematic, but I didn't notice at the time, and now having evolved as a reader, I'm perhaps more critical of things that maybe didn't bother me before.  Either way, both experiences have made me realize that I need to be even more selective with the books I decide to pick up (not that I wasn't selective before, as I've always been a lot pickier than most people I know when it comes to this stuff) – basically, I have enough to deal with in my life at the moment and I really don't want to add "frustrating reading experience" to it if I can help it…

 

Before I talk specifics about what bothered me with this particular book, I have to say that I did read Martha Hall Kelly's previous Lilac Girls series and thought those books were really well done – which is why I'm completely baffled as to how Kelly's newest release, The Golden Doves, ended up on the absolute opposite end of the spectrum for me.  Initially, going into this book, I was actually expecting to like it, not only because I had enjoyed Kelly's previous works, but also because the genre is historical fiction (which is my favorite genre) and the premise really did sound interesting:  two former female spies (the titular 'golden doves') who endured unspeakable atrocities during World War II join forces once again after the war is over to heroically take down a bunch of Nazi fugitives who had evaded justice.  Given this description, I assumed that I would be getting a thrilling, fast-paced espionage story with two strong, kickass female protagonists at its center (yes, a la Kate Quinn, whose works I adore).  Well, friends, that assumption was dead wrong!  What I ended up getting instead was a plot hole-filled, unnecessarily draggy, poorly-written, boring (I could keep going with the negative adjectives, but I will stop here) story featuring two naïve, immature, annoying-as-hell, frustratingly pathetic (which, believe it or not, is an understatement) female protagonists who were so stereotypically written, it's not even funny.  I mean, literally all you need to know is that Josie Anderson is American and Arlette LaRue is French – those identities essentially drive the entire story in that they dictate how the two women act, think, talk throughout much of this (unnecessarily long 500+ page) book. With Arlette especially, we are reminded time and time again throughout the entire story, both directly and indirectly, that she is a French woman (which to me, felt like the author was trying to use that to justify why Arlette behaves the way she does — namely, the constant flirting with men and always having to come across as 'sexy' and 'sensual').  And yes, both women were utterly unconvincing as spies – sure, it can be argued that both were recruited as teenagers (though this already doesn't make sense because why them??) so of course they would be immature, but the problem is, nearly a decade later, when they became grownups (both when they are apart and when they reunite), they still conducted themselves in exactly the same immature manner in nearly every circumstance.

 

For me, the biggest issue with this book was the way the characters were written, which can essentially be summarized in two words:  unrealistic and unlikeable.  First, Josie – she works as an agent at U.S. Army Intelligence, but she is impulsive, irrational, and has no sense of awareness or common sense whatsoever (as an example — in one scene, she knows someone is trying to kill her, yet after nearly getting run over, she walks into a hotel room without checking it first, immediately pours herself a drink, leaves her firearm in plain sight on the kitchen counter, then blindly pushes open another door, completely unaware that someone is following her).  Much of her behavior and actions throughout the story don't align with her job -- in fact, several characters she encounters throughout the story outright question whether she was ever trained because she kept doing stupid things.  And that's when she's an adult…as a teenager, she actually does even more ridiculous things, which, of course, is not surprising at that age – what's surprising is why she was chosen to be recruited as a spy in the first place. Of course, this also makes what happens at the end, with her career, entirely unplausible.

 

As far as Arlette goes, I honestly don't even know where to start.  While Josie's story arc was ridiculous but at least somewhat tolerable, Arlette's story arc was absolutely outrageous.  Pretty much all Arlette does for most of the story can be summarized as follows: 1) pine for her son, 2) flirt with every guy she encounters, 3) berate herself for being "pathetic" and "ridiculous" because of how easily she falls for men (especially the handsome ones — though it seems that, according to Arlette and Josie, every man they encounter – and there are plenty in this story -- who isn't a Nazi fugitive is "handsome" or "good-looking" in some way).  As an example of how outrageous and nonsensical Arlette's story arc got — I ended up skim-skipping most of the sections where Arlette was in French Guiana (which was, oh, like a third of the book) because a lot of it was useless fluff that didn't advance the plot much (except near the end), plus I got tired of reading about Arlette lusting after the bodyguard every couple pages (no exaggeration – there were actually scenes where Arlette spies on the guard taking a shower, or her blouse conveniently flies open in his presence somehow, or she's in a bathrobe when he suddenly enters the room for no reason – not to mention all the gratuitous references to the bodyguard's "beautiful eyes" or hot physique or whatnot) — it basically got into "steamy romance" territory, which to me, made absolutely no sense given what the story was supposed to be about.

 

Another thing that irked me about this book was that the entire narrative was written in first person, alternating between the "voices" of Josie and Arlette.  Normally, this would not be too much of a problem, but when both of the main characters are so unlikeable (and problematically written like they were here), to have to hear the story told from their perspective and be subjected to their every ridiculous, outlandish thought – well, let's just say it made this already tedious and frustrating read even more tortuous.  Interestingly enough, the last couple books I read that I didn't like (all new releases) were in the same format – first person point of view narrated by the main protagonist(s).  I noticed this format is used a lot with mysteries and thrillers, which I can understand, as the limited perspective could help build up the air of mystery or suspense in the story, but with historical fiction, it seems like it would be less effective…though I guess at the end of the day, doesn't matter too much as long as it's done correctly, which it obviously wasn't in this case, as it made the entire story sound stilted and awkward.

 

Overall, I was hugely disappointed with this book.  It actually had the potential to be a very powerful, emotional story about the Holocaust and its aftermath, while also shedding light on historical atrocities such as the Lebensborn program, the secret experiments at the concentration camps, the underground network that helped the most heinous of Nazi fugitives evade justice after the war, etc.  Unfortunately, Kelly took the story in an entirely wrong direction with the contrived plot and the ludicrously nonsensical (not to mention unrealistic) characters.  Ironically, the Author's Note at the end of the book actually does a good job of covering the historical details and also provides references for non-fiction books that cover these topics.  I mention this because I'm kicking myself now for wasting my time reading 500+ pages of a story that I disliked when I could've just read the Author's Note and found out everything I needed to know (including the basic plot and the ending, which there are major spoilers for in the Author's Note).   

 

To me, this book was a waste of time, but again, as I mentioned earlier, I'm an outlier with this one so don't just take my word for it.  If you're on the fence about whether to pick this one up or not (with the page count, it's actually quite a time investment), I would recommend checking out other reviews before deciding.

 

Received ARC from Ballantine Books via NetGalley.

 

Review: Central Places (by Delia Cai)

My Rating: 4.5 stars

It's not often that I come across a book where I'm able to resonate so deeply with the main character that, as soon as I turn the last page, the first thought that pops into my head is: wow, it's been a long time since I've felt so seen!   That's exactly how I felt after meeting Audrey Zhou, the main protagonist of Delia Cai's debut novel Central Places.  

To be honest, Audrey wasn't a likeable character for much of the story — as I was reading, there were so many instances where I found her actions and behavior annoying and frustrating, not to mention I kept wanting to yell at her to stop being so self-destructive and making a mess of her life. With that said however, Audrey was also a character I empathized with immensely — and in some areas, saw aspects of myself in.  With my shared cultural background of being the Chinese daughter of strict immigrant parents as well as growing up in an environment where very few people looked like me, I was absolutely able to relate to so much of what Audrey went through in the story, but more importantly, I was able to understand, on a deeper level, the complicated family and society dynamics that shaped her into who she eventually became as an adult and why she ended up making some of the decisions she did (even ones that I disagreed with).   I'm able to empathize because I went through many of the same struggles myself (some which I am still working through even now).

On a personal level, I know what it feels like to grow up in an immigrant household where there is always an unspoken pressure to prove the worthiness of your existence;  where you constantly have to worry about living your life in a way that justifies the sacrifice your parents made in leaving their prior lives behind and moving to a foreign country where they are largely treated as second class citizens; where you are expected to be obedient, to follow the path your parents laid out for you, to work hard and keep your head down, and no matter what, don't draw attention to yourself, which often involves not reacting when people make fun of you for being different (or, in a real life example, when classmates make a game of deliberately kicking the back of your legs so it looks like you are kneeling and bowing down to them); where there is constant pressure to be perfect, to succeed, and not make any mistakes along the way so as to not give those who don't want you here in the first place the satisfaction of seeing you fail; where you are destined to endlessly strive for approval and acceptance that never comes.  These are just a few examples — both in the story and in my own real life experience, there are way too many examples to list them all out.

The other aspect of the story that really resonated with me was the relationship that Audrey had with her mother — the relationship was a strained one that was plagued with communication issues, misunderstandings, silence as a form of punishment, and, the most destructive of all, an unwillingness to let their true emotions show for fear of letting their guard down and exposing their vulnerabilities.  For someone who may not be familiar with the unique dynamics that often define Asian (especially Chinese) mother / daughter relationships, it can be hard to understand Audrey's immature behavior when she's back in her parents' presence in Hickory Grove. For me, I understood it acutely because I lived that same reality for most of my life (and continue to do so to this day).  Culturally, Asian daughters have a whole set of expectations placed upon them from the moment they are born — expectations that Asian mothers are responsible for reinforcing throughout their daughters' lives…hence the relentless criticizing / nagging / judging / critiquing that we are constantly subjected to, regardless of how old we are or how successful we become.  I've actually lost count already how many of my Chinese female friends (all of whom are around my age, in their 40s, and are strong, successful, financially secure women) complain about resorting to "petulant teenager mode" each time they are in their mother's presence — a sentiment that I resonate with wholeheartedly because I'm the exact same way whenever I'm around my mom.  Even though rationally, we know that arguing is fruitless because, as much as we don't want to admit it, our mothers' nitpicking is their way of expressing their love for us, the hurt and pain we experience in the moment often defies all logical thought.  It's a phenomenon that's very hard to explain, but those who live it (whether daily like me since I live with my mom, or only occasionally like my friends who live separately from their moms and only visit once in awhile) will undoubtedly understand.

One other thing I have to mention is how much I appreciated the realistic portrayal of the characters and what they go through in the story.  Life is messy, complicated, and unpredictable, with both good moments and bad ones that are impossible to fit nicely into a box, to be put away and taken out whenever we feel like it.  This book did an especially great job showing this complexity, which is probably why the story ended up gutting me in ways I wasn't expecting — in fact, it hit so close to home for me in so many areas that, at certain points, I had to put the book down so I could clear the lump in my throat (and actually wipe the tears from my eyes a few times).  For me, there was so much to unpack with this story and in all honesty, I feel like I've only scratched the surface with this review.  While I focused primarily on the aspects most familiar to me, there are actually an abundance of themes in here that are worthy of further discussion (i.e.: themes such as coming to terms with the past, self-discovery and self-reflection, mixed race relationships, etc.).  I definitely found this to be a worthwhile read, but I know that each person who reads this book will get something different out of it, and in some cases, may not be able to relate at all to the story, which is absolutely fine, as that's the beauty of books and reading — they meet you where you're at.

Received ARC from Ballantine Books via NetGalley.

Review: Carrie Soto is Back (by Taylor Jenkins Reid)

My Rating: 4 stars

The first Taylor Jenkins Reid book I read was last year's Malibu Rising. Overall, it was an entertaining book and I did appreciate what TJR was trying to accomplish with it, but unfortunately, I couldn't stand most of the characters (it wouldn't be a stretch to say I hated most of them), plus "the party" storyline (which I felt was written too OTT for my tastes) nearly derailed the entire story for me.  Not surprisingly, given this experience, I was definitely more than a little wary going into TJR's latest work, Carrie Soto is Back. We were first introduced to Carrie in Malibu Rising and while she was only in a few scenes in that book, her brash behavior and outsized attitude were enough to make her stand out (not necessarily in a good way, in my opinion).  I certainly didn't have the best impression of Carrie after that book, and for the first half of this one, I actually liked her even less (if that's even possible).  To me, Carrie was the epitome of the type of entitled, arrogant, self-absorbed character that never ceases to frustrate me — and yes, there were quite a few scenes where she was downright mean (and that's putting it nicely). To be honest, throughout most of the first half, there were so many moments when I was tempted to just throw in the towel and call it a day (it also didn't help that I'm not into sports at all, so all the tennis lingo and references went completely over my head) — what kept me going though was the writing, which flowed beautifully into a well-crafted, emotional story (with a satisfying ending).

I definitely was able to connect more with this story than TJR's previous one (even though I know absolutely nothing about tennis or the elite world of professional sports). I think the reason for that is because, in this case, there wasn't a huge, revolving door of annoying characters that detracted from the main story.  Instead, we actually get to see Carrie grow and evolve in different areas — from her oftentimes fraught relationship with her father/coach, to her romance with Bowe Huntley, to her business relationship with her agent Gwen, and most importantly, her attitude toward her sport as a whole as well as her fellow competitors.  These are the types of stories I enjoy the most:  where the characters are well-developed, often flawed and far from perfect, even largely unlikable throughout most of the story, but they grow in subtle ways that are most meaningful when we as readers get to journey with them from the beginning of the story to the end.  

This book made me excited to read TJR again, and while I look forward to her next book, I should probably also get cracking on her backlist works as well (almost all of which have been on my TBR for while already).  Hopefully I'll be able to get to at least one of her other books before the next new one comes out!

Received ARC from Ballantine Books via NetGalley.

Review: The Wedding Dress Sewing Circle (by Jennifer Ryan)

My Rating:  4 stars

This is the third of Jennifer Ryan's novels that I've read and I enjoyed it just as much as I did her previous works.  One of the things I appreciated about this book is that, despite the similar background and setting (the home front in the British countryside during WWII) to both The Chilbury Ladies' Choir and The Kitchen Front, Ryan still managed to make this a very different story. With most of the men off fighting in the war, the women at the home front do what they can to support the war effort.  But with all the rationing taking place and the severe limitations on necessities from food to clothing, challenges abound for those trying to keep things going at home.  It is against this backdrop that we meet 3 spirited women from different walks of life who are brought together through a joint effort of wanting to help other women celebrate love by mending wedding dresses for brides across the country. 

Cressida Wescott grew up in Aldhurst village, but left when she was in her twenties due to a falling out with her brother.  After fleeing to London, she makes a name for herself as one of the country's top fashion designers — not an easy feat, especially for a single woman given the sentiments of the time and the traditions that confined most women to a life of marriage and motherhood.  All goes well until both Cressida's London home and her design house are bombed to ashes in the London Blitz and instantly, she loses everything that she worked so hard to establish.  With no other recourse, Cressida has no choice but to return to Aldhurst and stay with her niece and nephew while she rebuilds her business, all the while hoping that the two of them are kinder and more hospitable than their late father was.  While her niece Violet is thrilled that the famous aunt she never knew will be staying with them, she has her own "trouble" to worry about in the form of the conscription letter for war work that she receives, which effectively dashes her lifelong dream of marrying an aristocratic husband.  Meanwhile, Grace Carlisle, the local vicar's daughter, is engaged to be married and wants desperately to be able to wear her mother's wedding gown for the ceremony.  For Grace, it's a special way to remember her beloved mother, who died 10 years ago, and also her only hope for a traditional white wedding given the mandatory wartime clothes rationing, which has made wedding gowns a scarce commodity.  Unfortunately, her mother's wedding gown is too damaged to wear without repairing, so Grace brings it to her sewing club in the hopes that, together with the other ladies in the club, they are able to salvage it.  It is there that she meets Cressida, who decides to accompany Violet to one of the meetings, and as they come up with a plan to repair the wedding gown, the women also form an unexpected, close friendship.  Soon, the "project" of repairing Grace's wedding dress expands into the broader idea of a wedding dress exchange program where the ladies from the sewing circle mend donated wedding dresses and lend them out to other brides so they can get the chance to have a white wedding of their own.

I loved the concept of this story and felt that Jennifer Ryan did a great job writing about the time period in a way that made me feel like I was there sharing the characters' experiences. Speaking of the characters — I also loved how, once again, Ryan's main female protagonists were all strong, admirable women who had no problem standing up against the conventions of the time. The narrative alternates between Cressida's, Violet's and Grace's perspectives, and together, we get the entirety of their shared story and experiences.  While there was a little more romance in this one than I expected, especially when compared to the previous two books of hers that I had read, it didn't overshadow the rest of the story, so I was fine with it.

Overall, this was in the same vein of Ryan's previous two "home front" themed novels in that the tone was lighthearted and uplifting, though it also dealt with serious issues in a respectful, non- heavy handed way.  Having said that, I did feel that the story as a whole was a tad longer than it needed to be, especially around the midway mark, where some of the scenes felt repetitive and I felt like I was losing interest, but I kept with it and am glad I did, as the story turned out well in the end.

I enjoyed this one and definitely recommend it, especially for fans of Jennifer Ryan's previous works about women's wartime effort on the home front.  Also if you're looking for a WWII-themed read that's resonant and poignant but not too heavy, this one fits the bill quite nicely.

Received ARC from Ballantine Books via NetGalley.

Review: Forbidden City (by Vanessa Hua)

My Rating:  3.5 stars

In her third book (and second novel), journalist Vanessa Hua explores the political history of the years leading up to and during China's Cultural Revolution from an angle that is rarely brought up or written about in mainstream works that discuss China: Mao Zedong's fascination with ballroom dancing and the resulting practice of recruiting dance troupes to entertain him as well as other Communist Party elite at various gatherings.  Hua states in her Author's Note that seeing documentary footage of "Chairman Mao surrounded by giggling young women in tight sweaters" intrigued her, but when she tried to find more information, there unfortunately wasn't much.  By piecing together some revelations about Mao's habits and proclivities relayed by his doctor in his memoir, it was understood that these young women existed, but rarely ever mentioned or acknowledged in official records.  So based on this information as well as what is publicly known about Mao's complicated relationship with his personal secretary Zhang Yufeng (who met Mao when she was 18 years old and he was in his sixties), Hua created the fictitious character of peasant girl-turned-revolutionary Mei Xiang in the hopes of giving a voice to the "impoverished women who have shaped China in their own ways yet remain absent from the country's official narrative."

Growing up as the youngest in a family of 3 daughters in an impoverished village in China, Mei Xiang dreams of becoming a model revolutionary and a patriotic heroine adored and worshipped by many.  During one of the Communist Party's recruitment schemes in the villages, Mei Xiang jumps at the opportunity to leave her plight behind.  Arriving at the capital, she comes to understand that the "duty" she was recruited for involves dancing with Party elite as part of a specially trained dance troupe.  It is at these dances that she meets the Chairman, the head of the Party as well as the country — a man that she (as well as most of the population) has been taught to idolize ever since he come to power years ago.  Soon, Mei Xiang becomes the Chairman's close confidante and paramour, and when the Chairman starts to involve her in his political missions, Mei feels she is finally on the path to achieving her dreams.  But as the Cultural Revolution becomes a reality and Mei witnesses the atrocities that result from it, she begins to doubt the truth of what she had been told her entire life.  It's not until she moves toward disillusionment that Mei starts to understand what this realization will ultimately cost her. 

Vanessa Hua's previous novel — her debut  River of Stars — covered a topic that I rarely (if ever) saw written about in fiction: birth tourism.  This time around, with her second novel, Hua once again explores yet another rarely-discussed topic — one that often gets buried when it comes to discourse surrounding China and the Cultural Revolution.  As familiar as I was with this time period and the historical context of China's Cultural Revolution, the angle of Mao's relationship with the women in his inner circle and him possibly using them in his political machinations was an altogether less familiar topic for me.  Hua's research in this regard was meticulous, with both the historical and cultural elements especially well-rendered.  Having said that though, I have to admit that I enjoyed Hua's debut so much more than this one, mostly because I found it difficult to overcome my disgust with the relationship at the center of this story (a powerful man in his sixties manipulating a disillusioned sixteen-year-old girl). Even though I understood the reality and plausibility of such an arrangement during that period historically, it was still uncomfortable to read, particularly when it came to the more graphic details of the Chairman and Mei's relationship (much of which I honestly felt was unnecessary).  Structurally, while I liked the writing, I felt that the pacing overall was a bit off and he story dragged a bit too much towards the middle, with some of the plot points also a bit repetitive.  I also found most of the characters difficult to like, which I guess isn't surprising given the nature of the story.  With that said, I did feel empathy for Mei Xiang and her harrowing, heartbreaking story — a coming-of-age story no doubt, but also one of self-discovery as well as self-preservation.

Even though I wasn't too keen on the subject matter this time around, I'm still glad I read this, if anything, for the insights it provided.  One of the things I appreciate most about Vanessa Hua's works is that she doesn't shy away from controversial topics and takes up the challenge of an uncomfortable story head-on (which probably has a lot to do with her journalist background).  I look forward to seeing what Hua will write about next!

Received ARC from Ballantine Books via NetGalley.

Review: Black Cake (by Charmaine Wilkerson)

My Rating:  4 stars

Charmaine Wilkerson's debut novel Black Cake is one of those books where a key component of what makes the story work is the "journey of discovery" where important elements of the characters' pasts are revealed slowly and gradually over the course of the entire narrative. Because of this, it's best to go into this one knowing as little as possible outside of the main characters and basic premise.  

To that point, the story revolves around estranged siblings Bryon and Benny, who are forced to reunite after their mother Eleanor Bennett dies and leaves behind an inheritance consisting of a traditional Caribbean black cake and a voice recording — along with strict instructions that they must put aside their differences and come together to share the cake as well as listen to the recording.   The story that their mother shares with them is a harrowing one filled with heartbreak and loss, but also love, courage, and resilience.  Will hearing their mother's story and understanding her past mend the siblings' once close relationship or drive them further apart?

I definitely enjoyed this well-written debut, though in all honesty, there were times when I really wasn't sure where the story was going.  In addition to a lot of jumping around in terms of timelines and plot points, the way some of the characters were introduced took a bit too long at times, to the point that it felt like the story was meandering off course — but just when you start to wonder what the purpose of all this long discourse is, Wilkerson would suddenly veer the story back into relevance, and then, the previous sections would start to make a little more sense.  In terms of the characters — while I didn't feel much of an emotional connection to them, I liked all of them well enough to want to root for them and also care about what happens to them. 

 Overall, this was a solid debut and definitely a worthwhile read.  It did take a little bit of patience at times though due to certain parts of the story taking awhile to get to the point, but I feel that the effort does pay off in the end.

Received ARC from Ballantine Books via NetGalley

Review: Wish You Were Here (by Jodi Picoult)

 

My Rating: 4.5 stars

Jodi Picoult is known for not being afraid to tackle difficult subject matter in her stories, which I definitely appreciate as a a reader who loves a good story that is well written and also teaches me something.  As one of the first novels to deal with the COVID-19 pandemic head on, Picoult did an awesome job conveying so much of what many of us have been experiencing over the past 18 months (and counting).  Of course, there’s no doubt that everyone’s reaction to this book will be different depending on each person’s comfort level and “readiness” to take on a story about a pandemic that we are all still living through.  As some one who was severely impacted by COVID in very personal ways — both as a survivor when my entire family unfortunately got COVID back in late 2020 (we have all since recovered, but some “scars” still remain) as well as having lost loved ones to the disease (relatives and the parents of close friends) — I honestly wasn’t sure at first whether I wanted to read it at this moment.  But I decided to give it a try and in the end, I’m glad I did, as it became a salve of sorts for me, especially knowing that I wasn’t alone in some of the things I experienced.  With that said, there were also moments where the situation unfolding was “too close to home” to the point of feeling surreal — while I expected this given the book’s subject matter, it still jarred me a bit.  That being said, the reading experience was still a good one.

For me, this book’s biggest draw was the subject matter, as it’s not often that we I am able to read a book where the fictional story mimics a reality that I (alongside so many others) am experiencing currently.  Given how fresh and raw this subject is, I was curious how Picoult would tackle it — in the end, I definitely appreciated her approach. Having said that, this book actually isn’t just about COVID — at its core, it is also a story about a woman’s journey of self-reflection and an exploration of whether the life she has is what she truly wants.  The woman at the heart of the story is Diana O’Toole, who is an art appraiser at one of New York’s premiere auction houses while her boyfriend Finn is a doctor-to-be currently doing his residency at a major hospital.  Together, the couple have a dream trip planned to the Galápagos Islands, where Finn plans to propose to Diana and they can take the next step in the plan for their mutual future. The day before they are supposed to leave however, Finn is called back to the hospital where the situation is “all hands on deck” due to an influx of patients with COVID-19. Even though Finn now has to stay behind, he encourages Diana to still go on her own so as not to put their non-refundable trip to waste.  Diana reluctantly agrees and heads off to Galapagos, however right after she gets there, the island is locked down and she becomes stranded, with no word of when things will re-open.  On an island where WI-FI and a working internet connection are near nonexistent, Diana is completely isolated from the outside world — not only that, she also does not know the language and due to the required quarantine, there are very few people around for her to even ask for help. Diana ends up befriending a local family that takes her in and acquaints her with the beauty of the place they call home.  Spending time with the family leads Diana to re-examine her relationships with both Finn and her own mother (who lives in a care facility for dementia patients) as well as reflect upon the choices she’s made in her life his far.  I actually really liked all the characters in this story, whether major characters or minor ones.   All of them were so well-developed and truly came alive for me, but if I had to choose a favorite, that character would absolutely be Rodney -- not only did I love him as a character, I also really enjoyed his chemistry with Diana...definitely made me wish I had a best friend like him!).

This is a book that I believe will be easy to like, as all aspects of it were so well done.  Yes, there were some parts where the writing could've been a little tighter and I feel like there were some missed opportunities in some spots, but overall, I enjoyed this tremendously and wholeheartedly recommend it.  Oh and I do want to mention that the "twist" in this book definitely made my jaw drop, as I totally was not expecting it (and that's all I'm going to say about it...you will have to pick this one up and read it for yourself if you want to find out more). 

Picoult has said in interviews that this book was unplanned and she was inspired to write it about 8 months into the pandemic after reading an article about a man who got stuck in Machu Picchu because COVID had shut the entire place down (her editor didn't even know until she received the draft in her email).  For a book that basically came about accidentally, this one turned out really well.  Though this is definitely a worthwhile read, I do understand that not everyone may be ready for a book about the pandemic yet, so of course, do what works best for you. 

Received ARC from Ballantine Books via NetGalley.

Review: Songbirds (by Christy Lefteri)

My Rating: 4 stars

Even though it's been nearly two years since I read Christy Lefteri's award-winning second novel The Beekeeper of Aleppo, one of the things that has continued to stay with me whenever I think of that book is the affecting, haunting nature of the story.  While I might not remember every detail of the plot, I do remember the gut-wrenching emotions that the story evoked.  I was moved by Nuri's and Afra's heartrending story detailing their harrowing journey from war-torn Syria to Great Britain, trying their best to survive as refugees in a foreign and not necessarily welcoming country. Lefteri's newest work, Songbirds, is written in a similar vein — a poignant, heartbreaking story that centers on foreign domestic workers on the Greek island of Cyprus.  

Nisha Jayakody is a young Sri Lankan widow who, forced by the circumstances of dire poverty and desperation as well as a desire to provide a better life for her beloved daughter Kumari, signs up with an agency that places her as a maid and nanny for Petra, a pregnant businesswoman living on Cyprus whose husband had also just died.  In addition to taking care of Petra's household, Nisha also helps raise Petra's daughter Aliki.  Yiannis is a poacher who secretly traps songbirds, a protected species, and sells them on the black market.  After meeting and falling in love with Nisha, Yiannis longs to get out of the dangerous, illegal trade he is in and marry the woman he loves.  But it is not that easy — due to Nisha's status as a foreign maid, her life actually doesn't belong to her, but rather to her employer, who has the right to fire Nisha if her relationship with Yiannis were discovered.  Like so many of her fellow domestic worker friends, Nisha has few options and while she is treated well by Petra, their relationship is a perfunctory one in that Petra knows nearly nothing about this woman who had taken such good care of her and raised as well as loved her daughter as her own. It is not until one night, when Nisha goes out and doesn't return, effectively vanishing into thin air, that Petra and Yiannis understand not just the profound impact Nisha had on their lives, but also the reality of who she was as a person.

Though the story here is about Nisha, the narrative is actually told from the alternating perspectives of Petra and Yiannis.  Lefteri writes in her author's note that this way of telling Nisha's story — the piecing "together of her existence through the memories of others" — was deliberate, and after understanding what Lefteri was trying to do, it made me appreciate the story more (I highly recommend reading the Author's Note after finishing the book, as Lefteri discusses the inspiration behind the story — it's definitely not to be missed!).  One of the things I love about this story is the fact that it gives a chance for the voices of the most vulnerable to be heard as well as understood — in this way, I found Nisha and her story to be tremendously powerful.

Having said all that, while I did find this story to be both moving and heart wrenching, I felt it didn't quite reach the level of emotional depth that The Beekeeper of Aleppo did.  Of course, that's not to say that Songbirds wasn't an emotional experience because it definitely was —but it didn't leave me speechless like Lefteri's previous work did.  Nevertheless, it's still a beautifully written, absolutely worthy read, one that I highly recommend.  A word of caution though: there are some scenes that describe cruelties done to the songbirds that are troubling and difficult to read — for those who might be bothered by these types of depictions, might be a good idea to gloss over them (luckily those scenes are few and far between).

Received ARC from Ballantine Books via NetGalley.

Review: Malibu Rising (by Taylor Jenkins Reid)

My Rating: 3 stars

I've been wanting to read a Taylor Jenkins Reid book for a while now and actually have several of her previous works on my shelf, it's just that I haven't had time to get to them yet (which I intend to at some point) -- so of course, I was excited when I was able to get my hands on an ARC of Reid's newest novel Malibu Rising (which is scheduled to release on June 1st).  Reading the premise of the book, I originally thought this would be right up my alley, with a story revolving around the evolution of a family over several generations (I love family stories) against the backdrop of a setting (Southern California) and timeframe (1980s era) that I'm more than familiar with having myself grown up in Los Angeles in the 1980s.  Based on these reasons, I thought I would be able to connect with the story at least somewhat – unfortunately, that did not turn out to be the case.

 

Before I go into what didn't work for me though, I do have to say that I actually didn't have much issue with the writing.  In fact, given the unique structure of the story, the descriptive language, the vivid imagery, as well as the use of allusion and foreshadowing woven so seamlessly throughout the narrative, I have no doubt in Reid's abilities as a writer and a gifted storyteller. For me, the problems I had with this book had more to do with it perhaps being not the right book for me, and also going into this with certain expectations and being disappointed by the outcome.

In terms of the story, the first half of this book was actually pretty solid (even though, admittedly, I couldn't stand a few of the characters – but more on that later) and if the trajectory of the rest of the book had continued on in a similar vein, I'm sure this would've been a solid 4+ star read for me.  But instead, the second half of the book — which started with the first hour of the party and covered the entire timeframe though to the end — unraveled to the point that I almost didn't want to bother finishing the book, except that I was already so close to the ending and didn't want to feel like I had wasted my time reading up to that point. Ironically, in the end, even after finishing the entire book, I still felt like I wasted my time because most of the Riva family's story arc (which had been so well developed in the first half and I had been looking forward to in the second half) got lost in the shuffle of the wild and crazy, over-the-top play-by-play of the party (which I honestly felt was wasted plot space and highly unnecessary).  I mean, yes, I knew from the beginning that the party would be an important part of the plot and I was expecting a few pages, perhaps even a few chapters, to be dedicated to the party — what I wasn't expecting was for nearly every aspect of the party to be painstakingly detailed and drawn out over the course of 150+ pages. (Disclaimer:  I didn't actually count the pages, but part 2 started around the 53% mark on my Kindle and with the book clocking in at 384 pages, I figured 150 is a close enough midway page count).  I'm sorry, but there is only so much of "the rich and famous behaving badly" that I am able to stomach (especially when that "behavior" consists of getting drunk, having sex, doing drugs, destroying things, etc., then rinse and repeat on overdrive every 2 pages or so) before I feel like I want to vomit.  Given how the party concluded in the end, I honestly wasn't sure what the point of including all those scenes was.

As for the characters, I honestly didn't like any of them (especially the parents, whose horrible decisions caused so much unnecessary pain and difficulty in their children's lives).  Probably the only character that I felt a little bit of sympathy for was Nina…everyone else was downright annoying, frustrating, and, in the case of Mick Riva, a disgusting piece of trash!   The second half of the book consisted of a ridiculous parade of characters that I found exhausting to read about — after awhile, I just ended up skipping pages because I figured I wasn't missing anything anyway…

Obviously, I didn't enjoy this book much and under normal circumstances, would've probably rated this way lower than I did — but I thought the first part was truly well done and the second part would've worked if not for the overload of irrelevant party scenes that overshadowed the main story line.  Instead of being the powerful, moving story about love, loss, the bonds of family, resilience in the face of sacrifice, etc., that it could've (should've) been, this turned into a frustrating-to-read story about a rich and famous family whining about their messed up lives and their messed up relationships — a family that, by the end of the book, I could no longer bring myself to care about.

Received ARC from Ballantine Books via NetGalley.

Review: Sunflower Sisters (by Martha Hall Kelly)

My Rating: 4 stars  

My family and I moved to a new place recently and with so much there has been to do, both before and after the move, my reading life has unfortunately suffered these past few weeks.  Hopefully, as we get settled in over the next week or so, I am able to get back into my reading groove and catch up on the books that I had planned to read last month but didn’t get a chance to.

With that said, during this chaotic time, I did manage to finish one book, though it took way longer than it usually would have, both due to the lack of time to read as well as the difficulty on my part with focusing on what I was reading.  It also probably didn’t help that the book I chose to read – Martha Hall Kelly’s newest release Sunflower Sisters -- turned out to be 500+ pages.   This is technically the third book in the Lilac Girls series and while I still haven’t gotten around to reading the first book, I did read the second one, Lost Roses, when it came out back in 2019 and it ended up being a 5 star read for me.  So despite the bad timing, I still went into this one with a high amount of anticipation, especially knowing the story would continue to be about the same extended family from the first two books.  This time around, the story is set several generations earlier, during the Civil War period, with the indomitable Woolsey women (Caroline Ferriday’s ancestors) and the beginnings of the family’s long history of philanthropy.  Similar to Kelly’s previous 2 books, the story is narrated from the perspectives of multiple characters:  Georgeanna “Georgy” Woolsey (one of Caroline Ferriday’s great-aunts), whose strong determination and passion for nursing leads to a calling to join the war effort as a Union nurse; Jemma, enslaved with her family on the Peeler Plantation in Maryland, yearns to free herself and her kin from the constant abuse and fear they suffer at the hands of the plantation’s mistress Anne-May as well as its cruel overseer Lebaron;  Anne-May inherits a plantation that she doesn’t know how to run and after both her husband as well as beloved brother enlist in the army, she falls in with the wrong crowd and becomes ensnared in a secret network of spies. 

While I did enjoy this book quite a bit, I felt that the story was a tad slow in places and at times, was bogged down by details that didn’t seem all that necessary.  At 500+ pages, this is already a long book and when you add a slow-moving plot too, it can seem like a chore to read. Fortunately, the characters were well-developed and easy to connect with, which did make up a bit for the slowness of the story overall.  I also found the story arcs told from the points-of-view of Jemma and Anne-May a lot more interesting and engaging than the one narrated from Georgy’s perspective.  I actually felt the same way when I read Lost Roses too — the story arcs from the perspectives of the other characters were much more engaging than the one from the Ferriday/Woolsey characters.  Of course, that’s not to say I didn’t like the characters because that’s not the case at all — in fact, I liked all the Woolsey sisters and especially loved Georgy’s personality.  It’s just that plot-wise, the other characters’ chapters seemed to move the story along more.  

Overall, I did enjoy this one, but so far, I like Lost Roses more.  It seems that for most readers who’ve read the entire series, Lilac Girls is still the favorite.  As mentioned earlier, I haven’t gotten around to reading Lilac Girls yet, but I hope to rectify that soon if I can!

Received ARC from Ballantine Books via NetGalley.