Review: Slow Productivity (by Cal Newport)

My Rating: 3.5 stars

I definitely have mixed feelings when it comes to my thoughts on this book.  Admittedly, I don’t read a lot of non-fiction books, especially ones that fall into the “self-help” category (as this one undoubtedly does).  One reason is because I don’t find most of these “self-help” books particularly “helpful” and since it takes me longer to read non-fiction books in general, I feel it wouldn’t be a good use of my time.  In this light, Cal Newport’s latest book, Slow Productivity, is a bit of an anomaly – on the one hand, I found the anecdotes and stories it tells of a wide-ranging mix of famous people such as Isaac Newton, Jane Austen, Benjamin Franklin, Georgia O’Keefe, Jewel, Alanis Morrisette, etc. quite fascinating and entertaining.  While some of the examples that Newport used to illustrate his points were a bit of a stretch in my opinion, the interesting storytelling made up for the shortcomings in this area, in my opinion.  With that said however, as a practical guide on productivity, I don’t feel this book was tremendously helpful.  Case in point – despite having just finished the book, I’ve already forgotten the “principles” that form the basis of the “slow productivity” philosophy that Newport advocates as well as the practical strategies that he suggests for combatting burnout.  Even after re-reading the summary in attempts to trigger my memory, what comes to mind first and foremost are the stories and anecdotes rather than the guidance or any actionable advice that Newport provides. 

Given the above, it should probably come as no surprise that I don’t have a whole lot to say about this book, so my review will be shorter than what I usually write.  I do recall thinking to myself at various points that I might be able to apply a particular concept in my life, but then I would get to one of the stories and would become so absorbed that I forget the previous point.  Overall, I did get some things out of this book, so it definitely wasn’t a wasted effort in terms of reading experience, just maybe it didn’t serve the purpose that the author intended for it to serve.

Review: The Original Daughter (by Jemimah Wei)

My Rating: 3.5 stars

I debated for a long time how best to rate this book.  On the one hand, there were elements of the story that I really connected with – such as Genevieve’s struggle with coming into her own and finding herself in the face of a culture that emphasizes the bonds of family over individuality, as well as the conflicting feelings of resentment and love that forms the basis of Gen’s fraught relationship with her mother Su Yang.  I felt that the author, Jemimah Wei, did a great job capturing the angst as well as the difficulties that the characters faced in trying to convey their feelings – specifically, I was able to relate to the way Genevieve internalized her resentment toward her family, much of it stemming from the cultural reticence that influenced much of her upbringing.  Sharing a similar cultural background with both the author as well as the characters helped me feel emotionally invested in the story, to the point that several scenes actually had me close to tears due to how familiar the particular experience felt.

On the other hand however, I felt the story unfolded way too slowly, and the middle section especially dragged.  This is normally not a problem, but with a character like Genevieve – whom I felt was tolerable but not necessarily likeable – dwelling so much on her flaws made it more difficult, in my opinion at least, to feel prolonged empathy for her struggles.  Indeed, by the end of the story, my sympathy for Genevieve had turned into frustration and ultimately, irritation.  For a book that spans 350+ pages, to only focus primarily on one character’s thoughts and actions made the story feel way too long and drawn out.  Given the story’s heavy emphasis on complicated family dynamics, I think it would’ve been more interesting if we had gotten to hear the perspectives of the other family members – particularly Genevieve’s adopted sister Arin and her mother Su Yang – which also would’ve made the ending more poignant.  I’m usually able to finish a book of this length in 2-3 days, but this one took me more than a week to read, partly because whenever I had to put the book down to do other things, I didn’t always feel like picking it back up again. 

Overall, this turned out to be a mixed bag for me – some parts of it I really liked, other parts not as much.  A decent read, albeit one that requires a little bit of patience, especially at the midway mark.

Review: Like Mother, Like Mother (by Susan Rieger)

My Rating: 3 stars

This book was a bit of a mixed bag for me. While I did enjoy some aspects of it – for instance, some of the sardonic humor – I didn’t really like majority of the characters (except for Ruth, who was pretty much the only character I was able to connect with).  I had initially picked this one up because I thought the premise was interesting, for one, and two, stories about mother-daughter relationships (especially multigenerational ones) are very much up my alley – given both these factors, I definitely thought I would take to this one more than I did.  Overall, I found this book a bit difficult to get into, which is probably why it took me so long to finish it – I kept putting it down after several pages and didn’t really feel compelled to get back to it (though I forced myself to finish this weekend so I could move on to the rest of my teetering TBR pile).  Perhaps because I couldn’t relate to most of the characters, or maybe because the plot revolved too heavily around politics (a topic I hate discussing in real life, let alone reading about in books), I just felt like this was a tedious read from beginning to end. The ending was also predictable as well, which wouldn’t really be a problem given that this technically wasn’t a mystery / suspense novel anyway, but it did make me wonder what the point of the story was, especially with some of the characters being so unlikeable.

In any case, I don’t regret reading this one, since, as I mentioned earlier, I did enjoy some parts of it, but unfortunately, the “dislikes’ outweigh the “likes” in this case, plus the timing was bad. I would actually recommend that if you do decide to pick this one up, probably do it after the election, especially if you’re the type (like me) whose anxiety is through the roof right now just thinking about the state of our country and the political implications depending on the outcome...

Received ARC from Dial Press via NetGalley.

 

 

Review: The House on Biscayne Bay (by Chanel Cleeton)

My Rating:  3.5 stars

In her latest work, Chanel Cleeton tackles the gothic theme by centering her dual timeline story around Marbrisa, a glamorous mansion built in Miami, Florida right after the Great War. The over-the-top mansion is a gift that Robert Barnes surprises his wife with for her birthday, but during the inaugural party to celebrate the estate's completion, tragedy strikes and their lives are changed forever.  More than 20 years later, Carmen Acosta has no place to go after the tragic death of her parents in an accident, so she moves into the Marbrisa, the mansion that is currently home to her sister Carolina and her rich husband Asher Wyatt.  Prior to her arrival though, strange things were already happening at the mansion but things escalate soon after, to the point where Carmen's life is in danger.  Is Marbrisa cursed and haunted like people believe it is?  Or are the strange events the result of something more sinister?  

Overall, Cleeton's latest foray into Gothic fiction was entertaining, but I enjoyed her previous works more.  While the writing was good (as expected), the plot was way too predictable, to the point that I already had everything figured out less than halfway through the story, which of course took the "suspense" out of things (not to mention some loose ends never got explained, which created a few plot holes here and there).  The other issue I had was the narrative structure: the story was told in a dual timeline structure, with each time timeline narrated from the first person perspective of its respective protagonist— Anna in 1918 and Carmen in 1941.  The two protagonists couldn't have been more different in terms of age, race, life experiences, circumstances, etc., yet at times, I found it difficult to tell the two narrative voices apart and had to go back to check the chapter heading to remind myself which timeline I was reading.  This got a bit tiring after awhile, though it wasn't to the extent where it prevented me from moving through the story at a decent pace.

As I mentioned earlier, I did enjoy this one, but I have to admit that I was a little bummed that the story this time around had no connection to the Perez family (though I shouldn't have been surprised, since this book and her Cleeton's previous one were both standalone). With that said, there was an indirect link to one of Cleeton's previous novels — a "blink and you'll miss it" reference that I totally missed and only found out about after reading the Author's Note.

Even though I didn't take to this one as much as I thought I would, Cleeton continues to be one of those "go-to" authors for me whose works I will continue to read regardless (though I do hope she writes another book with a Perez family connection at some point).

Received ARC from Berkeley via NetGalley.

Review: The Other Side of Disappearing (by Kate Clayborn)

My Rating: 3.5 stars

As has probably been evident from the sparseness of my postings in recent weeks, I've been a bit behind on my leisure reading lately.  Don't get me wrong — I've definitely been reading a lot, everyday in fact, it's just that most of it is stuff I need to read for class so that I can complete my assignments.  With that said however, in not wanting to sacrifice my leisure reading too much, I've been trying to find a better balance between work, family, and grad school obligations so that I can get to as many of the books on my teetering TBR as possible (albeit at a slower pace than usual). 

One of the books on my list from last month is Kate Clayborn's newest romance The Other Side of Disappearing.  Since I don't read a lot of romance overall, I usually go off recommendations from friends when it comes to this genre and Clayborn came highly recommended.  I can definitely see why, as Clayborn's romance feels different from ones that I've read in the past — it's written in a way that leaves much food for thought.  The story is narrated in the first person and alternates between the perspectives of the main couple, Jess Greene and Adam Hawkins.  Adam is employed by Broadside Media, where he is assigned to  work with veteran journalist Salem Durant, whose popular podcast about con artist Lynton Baltimore catapulted her to fame over a decade ago.  That podcast resulted in some unfinished business and Salem wants nothing more than to track Baltimore down in order to tie up that particular loose end. The opportunity arises when they are contacted by Tegan Caulfield, whose mother Charlotte abandoned her 10 years ago when she ran away with her then-boyfriend (whom Tegan finds out is actually con man Baltimore). With some clues Tegan provides, they arrange to go on a search for Charlotte, which they hope will also lead them to Baltimore.  When Tegan's half-sister Jess finds out about the plans, she insists on going along so she can protect the sister whom she has raised since their mother's abandonment.  On this road trip "adventure," all four characters end up discovering things about themselves that ultimately change the course of their lives.

Overall, this was an enjoyable read and a fun way to take a break from so much heavy academic reading.  One of the things that stood out to me with this story is the interesting angle that Clayborn took with the main theme of "disappearing" — she goes beyond the literal definition of the word and instead goes deeper to explore the various forms that "disappearing" can take (not just the physical, but also the emotional, mental, spiritual, etc).  The nuanced way that some of the themes were explored added a little bit of a philosophical bent to the story, which I appreciated.  

My one complaint would be that I found it difficult to connect with the characters for some reason.  I liked the characters for the most part and Adam and Jess as a couple was one I could stand behind and root for (which I did, of course), but I didn't feel as much of an emotional connection as I was expecting. Regardless though, I would definitely read more by this author if the opportunity were to arise.

Received ARC from Kensington via NetGalley.

Review: Good Bad Girl (by Alice Feeney)



My Rating:  3.5 stars

 

Having read all of Alice Feeney's previous books, I of course couldn't pass up her latest, Good Bad Girl, even if it already came out several months ago.  Ever since I read Feeney's debut Sometimes I Lie (which blew me away) back in 2017, she has been a "good-to" author of sorts for me when it comes to the thriller/suspense genre.  With that said though, her books since that debut have been somewhat of a hit or miss for me – only one has gotten close to the level of her debut in terms of story and ending "twist" (that would be 2021's Rock Paper Scissors); the rest were al largely enjoyable (and all were very well-written), but didn't grab my attention like the aforementioned two did.  For me, Feeney's latest book falls into the latter category – definitely not her best work, but not her worst either.

 

As this is a thriller where you want to go in knowing as little as possible, all I'm going to say about the plot is that the premise revolves around a "mystery with three suspects, two murders, and one victim."  While I'm not necessarily sure that I agree with this premise now having finished the book (the "explanation" of this in the story was a little bit of a stretch in my opinion), I guess it does work to describe the plot overall.  Speaking of the plot – this is one of those "slow-burn" stories told from the alternating perspectives of multiple characters, which adds some complexity, but the plot also meanders in places, which made it harder to maintain my attention at points. 

 

To be honest, this one didn't really feel like a thriller/suspense novel to me, at least not in the same vein as Feeney's earlier works that were chockful of twists and turns and usually had me at the edge of my seat anticipating what would come next.  Instead, this one seemed to focus more on the complexities of mother/daughter relationships as well as the notion that each person has both good and bad qualities that motivate our actions – while I appreciated these insights (and in any other book, probably would've liked to see these ideas explored more), I felt like it waxed a little too philosophical and ended up bogging the story down a little.   Perhaps this is also why the ending felt somewhat anticlimactic to me (though it could also be that I had already figured out how the different threads would come together by that point).

 

I would say that overall, this was enjoyable and I'm glad I read it, even though it didn't have all the twists and turns that I usually expect from Feeney's thriller/suspense novels.  The writing, as usual, is good though -- Feeney writes in a way that is smooth, flows well, and not choppy – which is why I like reading her books even if I'm not necessarily keen on the story.  I continue to look forward to her next book and will definitely read it whenever it comes out.

Review: Wuthering Heights (by Emily Brontë)

My Rating:  3.5 stars

First off, I have to admit that I actually finished this book a couple days ago, but had to put off writing the review not because of lack of time, but rather, I needed to work through the seriously mixed feelings I had toward this book as a whole.  This was actually my first time reading Emily Brontë's famous "story of unrequited love" and while part of me (the literary scholar side?) can see why this classic has been lauded and held in such high regard for over a century, another part of me (the rational reader side?) honestly finds it hard to understand the appeal of such a dark, depressing story where every single character is horrid and deplorable (more on this later). 

Yes, the writing is absolutely brilliant — the symbolism, the masterful use of language, the wholly developed characters, the vivid imagery, the complex and nuanced themes, the creative and clever way Brontë structures the narrative, the interesting usage of narrative voice, etc. — from a literary standpoint, this novel is a "dream" to study and analyze as a great example of brilliant and mesmerizing storytelling.  With that said though, when I take off my "scholar" hat and put on my "regular reader" one, the experience is very very different.  I'm the type of reader who puts a lot of weight on the characters in a story and as such, in order for me to be fully invested in the story, I need to have at least one character that I feel like I can root for.  Yes, I understand that every story will have its fair share of flawed and unlikable characters and that's perfectly fine — but the problem with this story in particular is that EVERY SINGLE character is not just unlikable, but exceedingly so, to the point that not even one character is worth rooting for. Seriously, every character in here is in some way mean, spoiled, cruel, selfish, hypocritical, vindictive, violent, self-absorbed, abusive, etc. (I could go on, but you get the point) — though of course  Heathcliff tops them all by being downright evil as well (it's not a coincidence that he is compared to the Devil at various points in the story).  Based on their actions and behavior. I honestly could not bring myself to care about any of the characters (not even Nelly or Lockwood, who were somewhat more tolerable in the grand scheme of things, but still…), which unfortunately made this a brutal and deeply unpleasant read for me.  

Given the above, I'm actually glad that my first experience reading this was in a group setting (again for one of my literature classes), as being able to talk through the problematic elements as well as getting more background context did help to blunt some of the unpleasantness to some extent (though not completely of course).  In this light, I definitely don't recommend picking this one up individually as a "leisure" read, as it's best read in an environment where the events that happen can be parsed and discussed within context (in my opinion at least).

Regarding the rating — to be honest, I agonized over this for quite some time.  From a writing / literary scholarship perspective, this one definitely deserves 5 stars…but at the same time, from a reading experience (unpleasant) and "how did this book make me feel" (frustrated and miserable) perspective, my irritability with all the characters and not being able to stand any of them definitely give me pause.  In the end, I decided to go with the "happy medium" of 3.5 stars.   I'm pretty sure I won't re-read this on my own accord like I do with Charlotte Brontë's Jane Eyre (speaking of which, for some reason, people like to compare both novels as in a similar vein — a sentiment I vehemently disagree with, but that's a whole other topic altogether). If circumstances require me to reference Wuthering Heights in the future, I'll probably just skim it so I can avoid the torture of having to endure these frustrating characters again.

Review: The Leftover Woman (by Jean Kwok)

My Rating:  3.5 stars

Now that I have a little bit of a break from the demands of work and school, I am hoping to get caught back up on the new releases and book club reads that I had been neglecting over the past month.  One of those new releases is Jean Kwok's latest novel The Leftover Woman, which came out earlier in the month.  I had read Kwok's previous novel Searching for Sylvie Lee several years back and had really enjoyed it, so of course this book, her newest work, was highly anticipated. In the end, Kwok definitely didn't disappoint, as she delivered a solid, compelling story that proved to be both culturally resonant as well as thought-provoking -  though not without a few flaws.

At the center of the story are two women from completely opposite worlds.  Jasmine Yang is a young Chinese woman from a poor rural village who enters into an arranged marriage at 14 to a man years older than her. After suffering several miscarriages, Jasmine finally gives birth to a daughter, but not too long afterwards, is told that the baby died.  Jasmine is devastated — until she finds out that her husband lied to her and actually gave the baby up for adoption so that they could try for a son under China's strict One Child Policy. Determined to find her daughter, Jasmine plans an escape from her abusive marriage and eventually lands in New York through the help of "snakeheads" whom she has to figure out a way to pay back.  Meanwhile, in New York, Rebecca Whitney is an editor at a glamorous publishing house who is living the dream life — she has a prestigious family name and the accompanying wealth and privilege that comes with it, and she lives in a beautiful house with a handsome, talented husband aa well as an adopted daughter whom she adores.  But balancing a high profile career with the demands of marriage and motherhood is not easy and when a work-related scandal breaks out, Rebecca finds her perfect life slowly starting to unravel.  The story is told alternately from the perspectives of these two very different women whose lives end up colliding in unexpected ways.

I really appreciated the premise of this story, especially Jasmine's storyline about her struggles fleeing an archaic, patriarchal system and the choices she had to make once she was in America trying to find her daughter. Not that I didn't like Rebecca's storyline, but I just felt that it was less necessary — I would've liked to see Jasmine's story explored more, as there were opportunities there that were only touched upon.  I will be honest in saying that I preferred Jasmine's story arc and the direction that Kwok went with it (though there was potential for more as I mentioned earlier), whereas Rebecca's story arc felt typical of other stories that we've read before.

Plot-wise, I felt that the first half of the story dragged a bit and the buildup was slow — I definitely preferred the second half better, though the ending also felt too rushed (and there were some plot holes that weren't too believable). Despite the pacing issues though, I enjoyed this one overall — the cultural aspects were done well and the "twist" did take me by surprise (though it didn't blow me away to the point that I keep thinking about it like I've done with other twists).  

I don't want to say too much, since this IS a mystery / thriller after all, so it's best to go in knowing as little as possible (though I have to say that the story was more character-driven than plot-driven, so from that aspect, the thriller element was less prominent).  I definitely recommend picking this one up, especially if you're looking for a story that has mystery / thriller elements, but also emotional depth and poignancy.  I can't wait to see what Kwok comes out with next!

Received ARC from William Morrow via NetGalley.

Review: The Golden Gate (by Amy Chua)

My Rating:  3.5 stars

Amy Chua's debut novel The Golden Gate is an ambitious work of historical fiction that weaves together many threads spun around the murder of a politician named Walter Wilkinson at the Claremont Hotel in Berkeley, California in 1944.  Al Sullivan is the police detective on the case and he gets to work quickly, following one clue after another that mysteriously keeps leading him to the Bainbridge family (one of the wealthiest families in San Francisco) as well as another death that occurred at the same hotel 14 years ago.  As the investigation unfolds, several other possible "angles" emerge that attempt to throw Sullivan (and us as readers) off track, but of course, the truth prevails in the end.

This historical mystery was an enjoyable read overall, but due to the broad scope of issues (social, political, and everything else in between) that Chua tries to cover here, it felt like the story was all over the place at times. Chua also incorporated a lot of historical facts throughout the story, many of which were fascinating (especially to a history buff like me), but didn't seem to have much relevance to the plot.  In fact, there were moments where I felt like I was reading a history textbook rather than mystery novel (which felt even more awkward considering the sections with the most historical facts were largely narrated from Sullivan's first person perspective).  There were also large segments where Sullivan would go into spiels relating to his background — again, interesting, but felt kind of off-topic since much of it didn't seem to have anything to do with the case he was investigating.

The part of the story's structure that I thought worked really well was the deposition from the Bainbridge family's matriarch Genevieve, which was interspersed throughout the narrative. The way that these sections were written — with just enough information yet not revealing too much — combined with the other clues from the investigation, had me wondering and second- guessing certain things (as a mystery novel should).

Overall, this one was definitely entertaining, but I think it would've been more effective if the irrelevant historical facts were left out, as this distracted from the story at times.  With mysteries / thrillers, I prefer for them to be more tightly-plotted — this one went off on too many tangents, which made the plot harder to follow.  This was a good first effort though and I appreciate all the research that Chua put into this one.  I actually didn't realize until I read up on the author afterwards that Chua also wrote the nonfiction book Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother — her 2011 memoir that I've had on my TBR for ages but still have not yet read.  I guess this is as good a reminder as any to find time to get to that one at some point.

Received ARC from Minotaur Books via NetGalley.

Review: Happiness Falls (by Angie Kim)

My Rating:  3 stars

I have such mixed feelings about this book.  On the one hand, I really liked the story and absolutely appreciated the way Angie Kim brought much-needed insight to a condition that's so misunderstood.  Not only did I learn a lot from the story, it also made me deeply reflect on my own preconceptions and biases and most importantly, it changed my perception on how I approach things that I may not understand.  On the other hand, I really really really did NOT like the way the entire story was executed. 

The story actually starts off fine — the first couple pages, the first chapter even, drew me in and I was invested.  I had read Angie Kim's debut Miracle Creek (which I loved), so I anticipated there would be some "science-y" stuff in this book as well (which I'm usually not keen on, but if the science stuff is incorporated well and it doesn't feel overwhelming, I'm fine with it) — seeing how perfectly Kim had integrated science into that book, I was expecting the same here as well. Unfortunately, this would not be the case, as it turns out this book was written very very differently from her previous one.  The science stuff in here wasn't just overwhelming, it was way over the top in my opinion, to the point that it bogged the story down. But that was a minor problem overall — the biggest problem I actually  had with this book was the narrative voice.  

The entire story is narrated from the first person (sometimes switching to second person) point of view of twenty-year-old Mia Parkson, who is mixed race (half Korean, half white), but she looks more Asian than her fraternal twin John Parkson, whom most people mistake for a white person (I say this because race does play a role in the story). They have a younger brother, Eugene, who has both autism and the genetic condition Angelman syndrome, so he is not able to speak.  Their mother Hannah is a linguistics professor and their father Adam is a stay-at-home dad who takes care of the household. The incident that sets the story in motion occurs pretty early on, when Eugene returns home by himself, bloody and disheveled, while his dad Adam, who had taken him for their usual morning walk to the park, didn't accompany him back.  Soon, the police are involved and an investigation is launched to figure out what happened to Adam. 

Mia narrates the story and pretty much gives us (the readers) a "play-by-play" of everything that happens, from the moment Eugene returns home and throughout the entire investigation. This normally wouldn't be a problem — except that, in this case, Mia is an INCREDIBLY annoying character.  The book's summary refers to Mia as "irreverent" and "over analytical" which are both true, but the problem I had is that Mia goes beyond that — she is also cynical, arrogant, self-absorbed, a bit narcissistic, and, like her father notes at one point, has a "sarcastic attitude and general disregard for others' feelings" (which Mia agrees is a perfect assessment of her but still can't help hating everyone who describes her as such).  For me, the most annoying part about having Mia narrate the story is that she kept "getting in the way" — in addition to repeatedly jumping to conclusions and making assumptions about EVERY SINGLE THING (even though she keeps telling herself that she's "learned her lesson" and won't do it again), much of the story consisted of Mia constantly justifying and re-justifying her behavior / thoughts / actions. Whenever anyone would say anything or anything would happen, it would be quickly followed by at least a paragraph (sometimes multiple paragraphs) of Mia's analyses and assumptions — to the point where it felt like the story would veer off into "Mia's justification tangents" every other page.  For me, this was not just annoying, but also extremely frustrating — after awhile, I actually found myself yelling at Mia to just shut the hell up and stop interrupting the story every 5 seconds to talk about herself.

I honestly wish this story had been told in third person rather than first person, as I felt it would've been much more impactful and powerful.  From reading the Author's Note, it sounded like one of the purposes for Kim writing this story in the first place was to call attention to our assumptions and biases as a society, especially toward people with special needs — while some of that did come through in the story (case in point: Eugene's struggles with communicating led me to read up on Angelman syndrome and the teaching methods described in the book), unfortunately, for me at least, the frustration with Mia's narration overshadowed majority of the story and made it hard for me to focus much on anything else.

Like I said earlier, I loved Miracle Creek, so I was really looking forward to reading this one (which makes me a little sad that this book didn't quite work out for me).  One thing I've figured out about my reading habits lately (this year especially) is that I'm very much a "character-driven" reader — meaning that the voice in which a story is told is more important to me than I realize and can have a huge impact on my reading experience.  I say this because I've read quite a few books this past year where the story was told from the first person perspective of an "unlikable to the point of annoying" character and each time, I ended up getting so frustrated with the character that it essentially turned me off to the rest of the story (even in the cases where the writing was brilliant and everything else about the story was awesome).  It makes me realize that, for me as a reader, these types of annoying characters are only tolerable if I'm able to read about them with a layer of remove — when I'm forced to listen to them go on and on (and on and on and on) about their own flaws (especially when the character is unapologetic about those flaws and there are little to no redeeming qualities), it negatively impacts my reading experience.  

With all that said, if I were to look past the narration issues, there was actually a lot to like about the story (which is one reason why I struggled so much with rating this).  I loved the character of Eugene and felt the mystery aspect was well done…also, there were some really important societal issues that were explored in here that were thought-provoking and necessary — I'm pretty sure if this had been told in a different narrative voice, I would've really taken to the story overall, as it's the type of story that's usually right up my alley.  Of course, this is just me — there are a lot of readers who loved this one, so it's probably best to check out those reviews as well before deciding whether to pick this one up.  

Received ARC from Hogarth via NetGalley.

Review: Tomb Sweeping (by Alexandra Chang)

My Rating:  3.5 stars

This was an interesting collection of 15 short stories by Alexandra Chang, whose previous novel Days of Distraction I had read several years back and really enjoyed.  With this particular collection, I was drawn to certain stories more than others, which isn't surprising, as that's my usual reaction to short story collections that aren't linked somehow. While I would say that I did enjoy this collection overall in terms of content and writing, I didn't like that all the stories felt incomplete in some way — in some cases, I felt like I was being dropped in the middle of a scene that had already been happening, while in other cases, the ending felt so abrupt that I couldn't helping thinking I was missing some pages perhaps. That feeling of "incompleteness" is one of the things that makes short story collections a hit or miss for me (though at the same time, it's hard for me to not read them if I come across a collection that seems like it would suit my tastes).

For me, one of the things that stood out the most with this collection was the way Chang plays around with form in some of the stories. 

The first story that started off the collection, entitled "Unknown by Unknown"definitely captured my attention with its tense buildup, but then it veered a little bit into the abstract and in the end, I didn't really understand where it was going (though maybe that was just me).  The second story, "Li Fan" was the most interesting as well as the most obviously experimental one — the entire story was told backwards (which I actually didn't realize until I was about a quarter of the way through the story and was wondering why it read so oddly), with the last sentence first and the first sentence last.  This was definitely a unique structure, one that I'd never seen employed before, though to be honest, it didn't quite work for me, since I prefer stories in a more straightforward format (I get too distracted otherwise).  I actually had to go back and re-read this story the "right" way (starting at the end back to the beginning, which did irk me a little).  The story "Me and My Algo" features an algorithm as a main character (that is essentially in conversation with the unnamed first person narrator), while the story "Cat Personalities" consists of two characters talking about each other (and a friend) in relation to each of their cat's personality traits.

Even though I didn't necessarily resonate with some of the stories, I did appreciate overall the familiarity of the themes that we as Asian Americans and immigrants often struggle with — themes such as identity and our relationship with society, generational disparity and differences, reconciling past with present, the role of family and the way the dynamics evolve in an immigrant household, etc.   There also seemed to be quite a few stories relating to technology, which was interesting considering this was a central theme in Chang's previous work as well.

Overall, this was a pretty decent collection and I'm glad I read it, despite not necessarily understanding the message behind each story. I'm interested in seeing what Chang will write next, though I'm definitely hoping that it will be a novel rather than short stories.

Received ARC from Ecco Press via NetGalley.

Review: Family Lore (by Elizabeth Acevedo)

My Rating:  3 stars

I read Elizabeth Acevedo's YA novel-in-verse The Poet X in book club a few years back and absolutely loved it.  I loved the book even more after I got the chance to watch an author talk that Acevedo did where she read an excerpt from the book out loud (with her being a poet, this was a wonderful treat that definitely enhanced my experience of the book).  Given this admiration for Acevedo's previous work, I was of course excited when I heard she would have a new book out this summer and that it would be her first novel for adults.

Family Lore is a story about a Dominican-American family told from the rotating perspectives of the Marte sisters — Matilde, Flor, Pastora, Camila — and their daughters Ona and Yadi.  Written in a non-linear format, the story is centered around the living wake that second eldest sister Flor decides to throw for herself to celebrate the long life that she has lived.  While this request may not be particularly unusual, it sets off anxiety and panic within this family because of the special "gift" that Flor possesses:  the ability to "see death" — that is, to predict (in some cases, to the exact day) when someone will die (the premonition comes in a dream to her). Whether Flor saw her own death or someone else's, she refuses to say, which has the family speculating as to the motivation behind the wake.  Flor's sister Pastora also has a "gift" of her own — the ability to "see truth" whereby she can tell just from the way someone talks and the tone of their voice whether they are lying or not.  So the family looks to Pastora to hopefully talk to Flor and get some answers— but instead, Pastora chooses to confront oldest sister Matilde about her unfaithful husband Rafa, whose philandering ways Matilde has tolerated for decades.  Meanwhile, their next generation, Yadi and Ona, have their own struggles and issues that they are secretly dealing with.  In the three days leading up to the wake, some things happen that lead the various characters to reminisce and reflect about their pasts, with a few "secrets" that undoubtedly spill forth in the process.  This is the part where the story jumps back and forth not just between time periods (past and present, though without specific timeframe), but also between settings, with scenes taking place in the Dominican Republic as well as in the United States (specifically in New York).

This was an interesting story that I found to be beautifully written with prose that was both poetic and lyrical.  With that said however, the format, unfortunately, didn't quite work for me. First, there were way too many characters, all with their own unique backstories that were told in alternating chapters non-chronologically, which made things hard to follow.  As I was reading, I was having a hard time keeping everyone's story straight, which was frustrating (though it helped that Acevedo included a character table at the front of the book, which I had to refer back to more often than not). The other aspect that I felt didn't really work were the snippets of commentary from Ona that were inserted throughout the story.  Ona's character, an anthropologist, interviewed various members of her family for a research project she was working on, and excerpts from those interviews were woven into the story — which I didn't mind, except that I felt those most of those snippets and segments didn't contribute much to advancing the plot, and given the non-linear nature of the story, it just made things more confusing (for me at least).  Thirdly, the story felt too scattered, with multiple threads that seemed to go in different directions, and while the threads did come together at the end, once I got there, I still felt like I didn't really know what was going on (and it also didn't help that the ending itself felt too abrupt and ambiguous, which made an already complicated structure even more confusing).

Overall, I felt that this story had potential, it's just that it was executed in a way that was more complex than it needed to be.  I did find several of the sisters' backstories interesting, especially in seeing how some of the things that happened in their lives shaped who they eventually became — but it felt like too much to explore all at the same time.  Perhaps a better approach would've been to focus only on one or two main characters' arcs rather than try to cover everyone's story all at once. As a whole though, I did appreciate what Acevedo was trying to do and indeed, there was much that I did enjoy about the book, but unfortunately, the tedious and frustrating reading experience won out in the end.

Though Acevedo's first foray into adult fiction didn't quite land for me, I continue to be an admirer of her YA works, with The Poet Xremaining an unforgettable favorite.  I also continue to look forward to any future works she might come out with, be it YA or adult — though hopefully the next adult one will be a better experience.

Received ARC from Ecco via NetGalley.

Review: Days at the Morisaki Bookshop (by Satoshi Yagisawa)

My Rating:  3 stars

I was drawn to this story initially because of the bookish premise.  After twenty five year old Takako loses her boyfriend and her job in the span of a day, she has nowhere else to turn — so when her uncle Satoru invites her to stay in a room above his Morisaki bookshop in exchange for helping him watch the shop several hours a day, Takako agrees, even though she has never been a reader and has no interest in books.  When she arrives at the location of her family's bookshop in Jimbocho, she finds that the area is actually a book lover's paradise where "everywhere you turned, there was another bookshop."  At the Morisaki bookshop, Takako is (literally) surrounded by books day and night — not surprisingly, she also encounters various people who love to read.  Pretty soon, Takako experiences for herself the healing power of books, but more significantly, her stay at the bookshop ends up changing her life in ways she never thought possible.

This was a simple, quiet story filled with eccentric yet endearing characters that you couldn't help but love — for me, these were the main strengths of the book.  Unfortunately, the execution didn't quite work for me, as the writing felt choppy and stilted, with some sections sounding really awkward to read.  The pacing also felt off, with the two parts that the story was divided into feeling like two different books, which kind of threw me off a bit.  I'm not sure if something was lost in translation or the original work was written this way, but I just felt like there was more potential to the story than was tapped into.  And I must admit that I was a tad disappointed with the second half of the story veering away from the bookish aspects that played such a huge role in the first half.

Overall, this was an "okay" read.  I enjoyed some aspects over others and definitely felt the first half of the story was much stronger. This is an instance where I wish I knew Japanese so I could check out the original work and see if the experience would be different.  Ah well, that's how things go, I guess.

Received ARC from Harper Perennial via NetGalley.

Review: Romantic Comedy (by Curtis Sittenfeld)

My Rating:  3 stars



I'm not a huge fan of contemporary romance novels, and rom-coms especially can be a bit of a "hit or miss" for me.  With that said though, I don't mind picking one up now and then as a palate-cleanser in between heavier reads —  which is why, when one of my book clubs put Curtis Sittenfeld's newest rom-com, Romantic Comedy, on my radar, I decided to go for it, even though the premise didn't really appeal to me.  

Structure-wise, the entire book is divided into 3 long chapters. Chapter 1  revolves around "The Night Owls" (a late night live comedy show similar to SNL) storyline, where one of the sketch writers, Sally Milz, meets handsome pop star Noah Brewster when he guests hosts for one week and they collaborate on a series of sketches for the show.  Chapter 2 takes place almost 2 years later and is told in an epistolary format, consisting of email correspondence between Noah and Sally. Chapter 3, of course, is where Noah and Sally finally hook up and become a couple.

For me, even though chapter 1 was the most interesting arc in the entire story (and hewed closest to the premise), it took me quite a while to get into it.  I think this was mostly because, nowadays, I don't watch a whole lot of English-language TV shows anymore (I used to watch TONS when I was growing up), plus I've never really been a fan of SNL (I can't even remember the last time I watched an episode of the show…maybe decades ago?), so much of what went on during this chapter felt a bit tedious to me (not to mention I most likely didn't catch any of the pop culture references to the real SNL show, so the entire arc was less meaningful to me).  I actually enjoyed chapter 2 a lot more, probably because I have an affinity for the epistolary storytelling format (it's one of my favorite formats), for one, and two, I like reading fun, witty banter and there was plenty of that in this section.  Chapter 3 was run-of-the-mill romance stuff, which was fine, but not really my jam (oh and just a heads up that this section does get a bit "spicy" in places, in case that matters to those who decide to pick this up).  When it comes down to it, I think what I ended up enjoying the most from the entire story was the "girl power" friendship between Sally, Vivian, and Henrietta, and how they were always there for each other through everything, which I found to be very moving (though yes, their hilarious banter back-and-forth cracked me up as well).

Overall, this was a quick, entertaining read, and both fun as well as funny in places, but I think this was written more for a niche audience (fans of SNL, for example), who will likely enjoy and appreciate this story way more than I did.

Review: A Quitter’s Paradise (by Elysha Chang)

My Rating:  3.5 stars

Elysha Chang's debut novel A Quitter's Paradise is an interesting story about a Chinese-American woman named Eleanor who embarks on a journey of self-discovery and self-reflection after her mother dies.  The narrative alternates between a past and present timeline, with the present one told from Eleanor's first person perspective, covering her adult life where she and her husband Ellis are both scientists working on their PhDs.  Eleanor is prone to avoiding her feelings and often goes to great lengths to make herself small and invisible — a "skill" she cultivated as a child growing up in a household that was often devoid of warmth and tenderness.  In this timeline, we are given glimpses into Eleanor's fraught relationship with her mother, but we don't learn how this tense relationship came to be until the past timeline, told in third person, where the backstory of Eleanor's parents, Rita and Jing, is told.  Rita and Jing were immigrants from Taiwan, and though they were able to provide a financially stable life for Eleanor and her sister Narisa, their family dynamics were anything but harmonious.  Jing was often away for work and when he was at home, he was mostly indifferent (and sometimes violent) toward his family.  Rita often criticized  her daughters for infractions that either didn't exist or were contradictory to the point of confusion.  Narisa was a wild child who mostly did as she pleased, even if it meant hurting others in the process (especially Eleanor, whom she bullied and ridiculed relentlessly).  Growing up, Eleanor learned to be quiet and obedient, immersing herself in schoolwork and reading (similar to how the ancient scholars immersed themselves in their studies) — not because she particularly enjoyed either activity, but because that was the only way she could be left alone. In this way, she could become what her mother Rita "envisioned a modern scholar to be: someone actively engaged in disappearing, in self-effacing, someone hermited within themselves… Eleanor never corrected mistakes, never offered opinions, convictions, suggestions, clarifications. Never revealed anything about what she knew or did not know, what she felt or did not feel. How had she trained herself to be so amenable? Where did she learn to nod at concepts she didn't understand? Simple. Eleanor did not really rule herself or any realm of her life. She inhabited a world that belonged always to someone else." It is this personality trait of Eleanor's that shapes much of the story in the present timeline, which ends up affecting her relationships with everyone around her.

I had serious mixed feelings toward this book, with regard to both the story arc and the characters. In terms of story arc, the first two-thirds or so was quite strong and kept me engaged, but then the last third of the story got a bit muddled and abstract, to the point that, in the end, I felt lost and was no longer sure I knew where the author was trying to go with the story.  I also felt like the way the 2 alternating timelines were presented came off a bit disjointed - specifically as it pertained to the relationship between Eleanor and her mother Rita, which I was expecting to be more of a focus in the story. In the past timeline, we get to know Rita through her backstory, which plays a huge role in shaping her relationship with her daughters in their childhood years. In the present timeline however, the mother-daughter relationship wasn't explored much outside of the first few pages, which felt like a lost opportunity to me.  But it could be because I preferred the past timeline over the present one, so I was more interested in how that played out.

With the characters, I was actually quite conflicted.  On the one hand, I definitely resonated with Eleanor as a child, growing up in an immigrant household and the struggles that came with it, as well as the tenuous relationship with her mother that shaped who she became as an adult — much of it was familiar to me, as I had experienced similar struggles in my own life.  In the present timeline however, I couldn't relate much to Eleanor and the outlandish decisions she made, many of which I thought were a bit over the top — so much so that I actually found her annoying, especially near the end of the story. I also didn't know what to make of her relationship with Ellis, who featured prominently in the present timeline, but yet as a character, was not developed much — it felt like he could've easily been cut out of the story and it wouldn't have made much difference. 

Overall, I did enjoy this one, even though I felt parts of the story were uneven and the characters could've been better developed. The writing itself was quite good though, so I would definitely be interested in reading more from Elysha Chang in the future.

Received ARC from SJP Lit / Zando via NetGalley

Review: The Sorrows of Others (by Ada Zhang)

My Rating:  3.5 stars

Short story collections can be a bit of a hit or miss for me.  One reason is because I need stories to have some type of closure, as I don't like the feeling of being left hanging — for me, a story needs to have a beginning, middle, and ending (which can be good, bad, or indifferent — doesn't really matter to me as long as there's closure).  I also enjoy stories with characters that are well-developed and that I can root for.  Unfortunately, most short story collections are written in a way where we essentially only get a small "slice of life" snippet, with the story oftentimes ending abruptly – the result is that the stories usually feel incomplete and I'm left yearning for more.  In terms of the characters, it's hard for me to be invested enough to root for them when I'm given little to no chance of getting to know them and watching them evolve.

 

With Ada Zhang's debut collection of stories, The Sorrows of Others, this was exactly the type of situation I encountered.  While I loved the themes that the stories explored – the impact of immigration and assimilation, constant struggle with identity and belonging, cultural dissonance between generations, parent/child relationships, complex family dynamics, etc. – I felt that the stories were way too short and therefore the themes weren't covered as amply or deeply as I would've liked (as a point of reference, the entire collection was less than 150 pages, with the longest story being only 22 pages and the shortest story only 6 pages).  Nearly every story felt incomplete to me, which made for a frustrating read, as I kept having to start over with each story trying to get back into the groove of things and get acquainted with the new characters.

Format-aside though, the writing here was excellent — Zhang did a great job weaving the cultural elements into the stories, which I definitely appreciated, especially since, being from the same culture, many of the experiences were familiar to me. Also, with some of the characters, the emotional undercurrents were definitely felt within their respective stories, it's just that there wasn't enough time to develop further due to the brevity of the stories.

Out of the 10 stories in this collection, the ones that resonated most with me were:  The Sorrows of Others, Propriety, Silence, Sister Machinery, Knowing, and Compromise.

Overall, this was a good collection that I absolutely recommend for those who enjoy the short story format.  Though I prefer novels, I appreciated the writing enough in this one that, if Zhang were to put out another short story collection, I would definitely read it.

Received ARC from A Public Space Books via Edelweiss.

Review: Yellowface (by R.F. Kuang)

My Rating:  3.5 stars



I'm honestly not sure how to feel about this one.  Part of me wants to approach this from the satire angle, which helps me to not take this story so seriously and thereby enables me to tamp down my frustration and anger at the plethora of "problematic" actions and behaviors of all the characters in the story. The other part wants to approach this from the angle of a necessary commentary on the dark and ruthless underbelly of the publishing industry, the toxicity of social media, the rise of online book communities, and of course, the most most front and center hot button topic in recent years — racism and social justice. Regardless of which angle though, one thing I do need to make clear is that I'm approaching this book from the position of not having read any of R.F. Kuang's previous works and also not having much knowledge of her background or history as an author.  I feel this is an important distinction to make because, just glancing through the mixed bag of reviews and ratings on Goodreads, it's pretty obvious that this book is going to provoke strong reactions in readers that will vary greatly  depending on each person's background, experiences, and also familiarity with the author and/or her works. (As a side note, it seems that most of the negative reviews of this book on Goodreads seem to focus on the "meta" aspect of the story as it pertains to Kuang's own background and interactions related to her previous works — while these observations may be completely valid, this was an angle that did not concern me given my lack of familiarity with the author, so it won't be a focus of this review).

Kuang actually covers a lot of ground with this book in terms of topics — in addition to the commentary on hot button issues mentioned earlier, the story also explores cultural appropriation, colonialism, systemic racism, cyber bullying, the current political environment, censorship, toxic friendships, recent debates about who should be allowed to tell which stories, etc. While so many of these topics are important and should be brought up for discussion, I have to admit that it felt like too much all at once, to the point that, at times, I felt I was being bombarded with one issue after another after another, making it difficult to process my thoughts (which, to me, was necessary given how "heavy" so many of the topics were).  I honestly think that the story would've been a less overwhelming experience (and hence a more powerful and effective story) if it had focused less on trying to cover all bases and instead, focused on only a few topics to explore more in depth.   

Aside from the subject matter, the other thing that made this book a difficult read, at least for me, was the fact that all of the characters in the story were hugely unlikable, with the main protagonist June Hayward (aka Juniper Song) being particularly loathsome and pathetic (it also didn't help that the entire story was narrated from June's first person point of view, so we were stuck listening to her endless excuses and whining the whole time).  It's honestly hard to enjoy a story when you hate the main character and have no one else to root for because all the supporting characters were also annoying.

As I mentioned earlier, this is a provocative story with so many topics that could actually be debated ad nauseam and probably we would never be able to come to an agreement on anything.  One of the central issues that the story dives into — and the one most resonant for me — is the idea of who gets to tell what story.  In theory, I don't have a problem with an author "going outside their lane" so to speak — in this instance, a white author writing an Asian story — as long as it's done correctly, which in my book means doing so respectfully and as authentically as possible (though yes, there is also the argument about how this takes the opportunity away from a marginalized author to tell the same story, which I also agree with, but that's a whole separate debate altogether and not really the focus of this story).  But I think what happens in Yellowface actually goes beyond this (who should get to tell the story) — technically, it's not about whether June, who is white, should be allowed to tell a story about Chinese history and culture, as the fact of the matter is that the original story was written by her friend Athena Liu (who is Chinese).  The real issue here is that, when Athena dies unexpectedly, June "takes" the manuscript and publishes it as her own.  Sure, June makes a lot of edits to the manuscript and even "rewrites" large chunks of it, since Athena's version was unfinished (this is important because June clings to this throughout the story as her main "justification" for why the story belongs to her and hence she did nothing wrong).  Even so, June had the choice to go down the proper path with this — that is, to credit Athena for coming up with the story and writing majority of it, and to attach herself as collaborator in finishing and editing it (there is a scene where June actually considers doing this).  But she deliberately chooses not to and that, friends, is the crux of the problem.  To me, once June made that choice, nothing else mattered — I no longer cared what excuses or justifications she gave (believe me, she gave PLENTY), or what "factually" happened or didn't happen (i.e.: "I didn't mean to take it, I was just curious" or "I never 'pretended' to be Chinese so it's not cultural appropriation" or "Athena is a bad person because she stole from me first", etc). At that point, it was hard not to view June in a negative light for the rest of the story.  

Of course, it probably also doesn't help June's case that I'm Chinese myself and am intimately familiar with the language and culture, which means that I understood most of the nuances in Athena's manuscript, so June's actions come across as even more egregious in my view.  There was one passage in particular that got me seething mad (yes, THAT passage in which June's complete ignorance of Chinese culture is put on full display) — thinking about it now though, it strikes me that perhaps this may have been intentional on the author's part, as there is no way that anyone with even a passing knowledge of Chinese language and culture wouldn't be triggered by the "edits" that June makes to the script.  Speaking of which, the other thing that really bothered me was June's attitude — specifically the utter delight and glee with which she "changed" Athena's creation. The entire section that details June's "editing sessions" was honestly very painful to read — not just from the perspective of someone who knows the culture, but also from the perspective of a writer who has spent countless hours on a project, only to see someone else come in and happily "butcher" it.  And then, to add further insult to injury, there's this passage, where June's editor Daniella tells her at the end of the sessions: "You are so wonderfully easy to work with. Most authors are pickier about killing their darlings" to which June's immediate reaction is "This makes me beam. I want my editor to like me. I want her to think I'm easy to work with, that I'm not a stubborn diva, that I'm capable of making any changes she asks for. It'll make her more likely to sign me on for future projects."  Needless to say, I wanted to punch June's lights out by that point (and this was only at the 15% mark in the story, unfortunately). 

Overall, in terms of literary merit, I feel that this book is definitely worth reading (and to some extent, it's actually a necessary read from the social commentary aspect), but like I said earlier, what the reading experience is going to be like will depend on how close you are to the subject matter.  Given my background, reading this book was obviously not a pleasant experience for me (hence why I rated this the way I did), but that does not mean others will feel the same way.  With that said, I do think that, with this book in particular, given so many triggering elements to it, the best course of action might be to check out as many reviews as possible (both positive and negative) before making the decision whether to pick it up.  I had heard that this book is actually a departure from R.F. Kuang's usual style and while I can't comment on that, I will say that the unpleasant experience with this one hasn't discouraged me from wanting to read her previous works.  I have both Babel and The Poppy Wars trilogy on my shelves and I do intend to read both at some point down the line.

Received ARC from William Morrow via NetGalley.

Review: Community Board (by Tara Conklin)

My Rating:  3.5 stars

I read Tara Conklin's previous novel The Last Romantics and absolutely loved it!  That book was so well-written, with characters that were memorable albeit not always likable, an emotional story arc, and a plot that unfolded slowly but still had a good balance of surprising moments that felt both poignant and genuine.  Given the above, it should come as no surprise that, as soon as I found out Conklin would have a new book out this month, I jumped at the chance to read it.  While there were aspects of her new novel, Community Board that appreciated and even enjoyed, I didn't really take to the book overall as much as I did her previous one.  Perhaps my expectations were too high going into this one, which I thought would be in the same vein as The Last Romantics, but of course, turned out to be entirely different.  

The story revolves around main protagonist Darcy Clipper, who, driven by the heartbreak of her husband leaving her for another woman, returns to the small town of Murbridge, Massachusetts where she grew up.  Expecting to be consoled by her parents, she is disappointed to find that they had left on a trip to Arizona without telling her.  Darcy then shuts herself inside her childhood home in a self-imposed period of isolation where she shuns all contact with the outside world and subsists primarily on a diet of Chef Boyardee and chickpeas.  During this solitary period, Darcy spends most of her time alternately feeling sorry for herself, blaming her friends and family for abandoning her, and reading decades-old issues of National Geographicmagazine cover-to-cover.  Her only contact with the outside world, for the most part, is through the community board where the residents of Murbridge post various updates and messages related to their little town.  After a few months, Darcy starts to run out of food and, not wanting to ask her parents for money (because she is still mad at them for not being there to take care of her), she has to find a way to make money, which finally forces her to venture out of the house.  She ends up working for a guy named Marcus Dash-Lagrand, who had just moved into Murbridge with his husband Dan and their 3 sons, and through increased interactions with the family (as well as a handful of others), she slowly emerges from her shell and, more importantly, learns that she can indeed survive on her own.

The format of the story consists of mostly a third-person narrative interspersed with Darcy's emails (ones that she drafts but never sends out and ones that she actually does send) and posts from the Murbridge community board.  I thought this format was interesting and effective — I especially enjoyed the community board posts, which I recognized as being similar to the quirky stuff I typically see on my local neighborhood's community board.  I also liked the humor that permeated much of the story line — sure, some of it was cynical and raunchy and borderline outlandish at times, but for some reason, it worked in this instance (which is saying something because I usually prefer more subtle humor — "slapstick"-type humor is generally a hit or miss for me).

With all that said, what didn't work for me was Darcy's self-imposed isolation and self-absorbed pity party taking up nearly half of the story.  I'm not opposed to characters having to work out their feelings after facing a difficult situation, but the setup here was a bit too excessive in my opinion.  Darcy essentially spends the first half of the story revisiting over and over again everything that is wrong with her life; alternating between blaming her husband (for having an affair), her friends (for abandoning her), and her parents (for coddling her and doing too much for her); and depriving herself of proper sleep, nutrition, and hygiene. At first, I did feel sorry for Darcy, but after having to spend page after page (after page after page) absorbed in her complaints, I started getting increasingly annoyed and frustrated.  Luckily, in the second half of the story, Darcy finally ventures out and allows herself to interact with people in the community, which is when things actually started to get interesting.

Overall, I would say that, while I don't regret reading this one, I wish I hadn't gone into it with such high expectations.  Definitely lesson learned!

Received ARC from Mariner Books via NetGalley.

Review: Becoming Duchess Goldblatt (by Anonymous)

My Rating:  3.5 stars

Let me say up front that I don't care much for social media.  Yes, I do have accounts on all the major platforms, but I created those more out of necessity than anything else.  I guess you can say that I "tolerate" social media in that I use when it when I have to (for example — to connect with a friend or distant relative or to research or get information on something), but outside of that I rarely post anything and rarely interact with anyone.  For the record, I have nothing against social media itself — it's more that the experience is not for me, as I find the pressure of constantly having to "keep up" with the trends and conversations on there extremely exhausting and stressful, and I basically have neither time nor patience for any of it.

Given the above, it should probably come as no surprise that I had never heard of the fictional Internet personality Duchess Goldblatt prior to reading this book.  In fact, this book probably would never have come onto my radar if one of my book clubs hadn't chosen it as a monthly read.   This is actually a memoir by an anonymous author who writes about how she came to create an alter ego on social media that is so beloved across legions of her devoted fans.  The author encountered a lot of loss and tragedy in her life and in efforts to parse her grief (not to mention the incredible loneliness she felt at the time), she created Duchess Goldblatt on a whim, not expecting the character to attract as much attention as it did.  Indeed, the Duchess can count among her followers many famous names in the literary community, such as Elizabeth McCracken, Alexander Chee, Benjamin Dreyer, Celeste Ng, Laura Lippman, etc.  But for the author, one of the most meaningful experiences that Duchess Goldblatt gave her was the opportunity to develop a close friendship with her real-life long-time idol, singing legend Lyle Lovett.   The author's candid conversations with Lyle (both as herself and as Duchess Goldblatt) were a lot of fun to read and I felt that's one of the things that made this book so special.  

Overall, I found this to be an interesting read.  I appreciated the candor with which the author recounted key moments of her life and the various struggles she went through.  There were parts that I resonated with deeply and wholeheartedly— such as this paragraph where the author's boss calls her into the office to praise her for doing a great job at work:  "Outperforming other people is of no interest to me.  It certainly doesn't motivate me.  If anything, it makes me feel a little guilty. I was raised not to show off, not to be proud, not to draw attention to myself.  I don't like people looking at me or standing too close. Compliments make me uncomfortable.  My greatest childhood dream was to be an author whom everyone would read but no one would look at directly, but I couldn't figure out a way to write books without people knowing my name."  I love this quote because it describes my exact sentiments as well.  I also related to the insecurities and vulnerabilities that the author felt about herself, as I struggled with these at various points in my life as well.  With all that said, the parts I didn't enjoy as much were the quotes and excerpts from the Duchess Goldblatt social media accounts — don't get me wrong, I liked the concept of it and I definitely appreciated the author for creating something that gave so much joy and comfort to so many people, but for me personally, the excerpts were distracting. Basically, I preferred to read about the author herself (this is a memoir after all) more than about her fictional Internet persona.  

Even though this one turned out different than I expected, I'm still glad I read it, as it was a pretty unique experience overall.   Given the author's desire to remain anonymous, I admire her willingness to share her personal story with so many people (I know I wouldn't be able to do it for sure).  I wish her the best of luck!