Thursday, June 18, 2020

Review: That Summer in Maine (by Brianna Wolfson)

My Rating: 3.5 stars

One of the things I remember most about Brianna Wolfson’s debut novel Rosie-Colored Glasses, which I had read back in 2018, was how emotionally resonant the book was for me.  At the time, it was one of my favorite reads of the year (one that I rated 5 stars of course) and, more significantly, it was one of the few books that actually brought tears to my eyes as I was reading.  There were so many things I loved about that book – the story, the characters, and most memorable for me, the lyrical writing that made the story flow so beautifully. 

Given that experience, it should come as no surprise that when I heard Wolfson would have a new book out this summer, aptly titled That Summer in Maine, I was ecstatic and knew right away that I had to get my hands on a copy as soon as possible.  Of course, this also meant that I went into this book with very high expectations, to the point that I automatically assumed that I would love this one as much as I did her debut.  Unfortunately, this was not the case, and in the end, it fell quite a bit short of expectations for me.  While Wolfson’s second book was written in mostly the same lyrical style that had captivated me in her debut – plus it covered the same theme of flawed families as well as the bond between mothers and daughters --  everything else felt so different this time around.  Not only did I find it difficult to get into the story this time (it took me until close to the halfway mark before I felt pulled in), I also didn’t feel anything for the characters, which really surprised me.   I had loved the characters in Rosie-Colored Glasses so much that, when I had gotten to the end of that story, I didn’t feel ready to let them go yet.  With That Summer in Maine, I actually felt annoyed with the characters for majority of the story.   Perhaps it was the inconsistency in the way the characters were portrayed -- Hazel and Eve were supposed to be 16-year-old teenagers, yet throughout most of the first half of the story, Hazel’s actions and behavior made her come across like a much younger child, while the descriptions of Eve in the second half made it seem like she could pass for someone much older, perhaps a young adult even.  The unevenness of the characters’ portrayals from one section to another was a bit jarring, which definitely affected the flow of the story for me.  Also, using the format of writing letters to recount Jane’s and Susie’s experiences with Silas during that fateful summer, while it made sense based on their story taking place in the past, the writing style felt a bit out of place with the rest of the narrative, almost like I was reading two different books.  Normally this wouldn’t be a problem, but Wolfson has a unique writing style that was one of the key aspects of why I adored her debut novel as much as I did, so the contrast in style with those segments was particularly felt.

While the story and characters didn’t really appeal to me this time around, one of the things I appreciated was the depth with which Wolfson depicted the characters’ struggles in dealing with the complex family dynamics at the center of this particular story.  The idea of two families from completely different walks of life, previously unknown to each other, discovering the truth of their connection via two daughters born from two different affairs with the same man – it’s a pretty complicated premise that Wolfson handled well in the overall scheme of things.

Though this one didn’t quite live up to my expectations, especially compared to this author’s debut novel, it was still a good read overall – basically, this was a book that I liked well enough, but didn’t love.  With that said, I still look forward to reading Wolfson’s next work, though I probably should be more cautious about not going in with high expectations next time.


Received ARC from MIRA / Harlequin via NetGalley.

Thursday, June 11, 2020

Review: The Wife Who Knew Too Much (by Michele Campbell)


My Rating:  2 stars

This is the third book I've read by author Michele Campbell and the second one that I've disliked strongly enough to give it only 2 stars (and still feel like I'm being too generous).   
Last year, when I read Campbell's A Stranger on the Beach, the two biggest issues I had with the book were the badly executed story line as well as the frustratingly cliched and unrealistically written characters.  In my review of that book, I remember writing how much I loathed the characters (especially the main protagonist Caroline), whose actions and behavior would get more ridiculous and outrageous the more the story progressed.  Unfortunately, Campbell's newly released fourth novel The Wife Who Knew Too Much was plagued by pretty much the same issues as her previous book — the execution was poor and the characters were absolutely loathsome.  Actually, in my opinion, the characters in this story — especially the main character Tabitha — were way worse....I disliked most of them from the very first page.  Its not often that I react in such a negative manner to characters in a fictional story, but Tabitha truly did get on my nerves.  Perhaps I'm tired of reading about middle-aged women who are immature and childish and come across like petulant teenagers, or who are portrayed as naive and overly emotional and incapable of thinking rationally.  Tabitha is the type of character I can't stand — indecisive, foolish, immature — throughout the entire story, she knowingly makes poor choices over and over (and over and over and over) again, and if that's not bad enough, whenever things go south because of those choices, the main reaction is to whine and cry and beat herself up for being foolish (the word "stupid" is more appropriate but a bit too harsh)...then, instead of learning from her mistakes and trying to fix them, she pushes all rational thought away and dives headfirst back into the foolishness that had gotten her burned in the first place.  It's hard to dislike a character so much that you end up having zero sympathy for them as well as not caring one bit what happens to them, but that's definitely how I felt about Tabitha (and all the characters in this story, for that matter).  Don't get me wrong — I have no problems with flawed characters, as those flaws are usually what makes characters realistic, but the characters in this story were beyond flawed...Tabitha, Connor, Nina, and  just about every other character in here were so cliched and stereotypically drawn that they essentially became caricatures.

Aside from the characters, the other thing that annoyed me was the plot, which I found to be ridiculously contrived from beginning to end.  It's one thing for a plot to be predictable, but entirely another when it veers into "outlandish" territory, to the point that I have to suspend disbelief every step of the way.  Barely halfway through the story, I got so annoyed that I started skimming through to the end, which I'm glad I did because I know if I had read it word for word, I probably would've thrown my Kindle across the room in frustration. The writing itself was also a problem for me, as it felt very elementary and clunky, plus the fact that, as the main character, Tabitha narrated the story from her first person point of view made it so much worse, as I got fed up hearing her go back and forth trying to rationalize every dumb decision she made.  

After 2 books in a row that left a bad taste in my mouth, I think I'm officially done with this author, at least for now.  With that said though, I don't want to discourage anyone from reading this if they so choose, as not everyone will have the same negative experience I did. So definitely check out other reviews first before deciding.

Received ARC from St. Martin's Press via NetGalley

Monday, June 8, 2020

Review: Sea Wife (by Amity Gaige)

My Rating: 3.5 stars

I'm a bit torn with my feelings toward this book. On the one hand, it was a really good story, well-written and atmospheric, with a unique narrative structure that alternates between the first person perspective of Juliet Partlow (the "sea wife" from the title) and that of her husband Michael through his captain's logbook. After buying a sailboat, Michael decides to quit his job as an insurance agent and convinces his wife Juliet, along with their 2 young kids Sybil (7 years old) and George (2 years old), to accompany him on a year-long sailing trip to Panama. Their journey is a harrowing one, made even more difficult by the fact that both Michael and Juliet are novice sailors, mostly learning as they go. As they head out on their journey, Michael and Juliet soon realize that navigating the tumultuous seas is just one of the challenges they must face, as some of the underlying issues that had already put their marriage in a precarious position prior to the trip begin to gradually surface. Through Juliet's reflections after the trip, supplemented by Michael's recollection of events through the log he kept during the journey, a complex picture emerges that provides deeper insight into not just their present situation but also their pasts. The story itself covers quite a bit in terms of themes — from the bonds of family to the complications of societal relationships, from strength built upon love to resilience in the face of adversity, there was definitely much to reflect upon here.

As I said earlier, this was a good story overall, well-crafted with realistic characters and an interesting premise. The mystery portion, as it pertained to the events that unfolded on the trip leading to the revelation of what happened to Michael, while not the main focus, was pretty well done. There was an ominous tone that permeated most of the story, a sense that something had to have gone terribly wrong on the trip, but we (the readers) won't find out what happened until the time was right to reveal it. The structure was effective, though it also naturally lent itself to a "slow-burn" narrative where bits of context were revealed gradually, bit by bit, and not always in a straightforward manner.

While I did like the story well enough as a whole, one thing that didn't really work for me were the elaborate descriptions of the various aspects of sailing, including loads of terminology and other technical stuff that, quite frankly, went way over my head. This bogged down parts of the story for me, and in some instances, broke the flow of my reading, which was definitely frustrating. Also, the sections that had a political bent to them confused me a bit, as I wasn't expecting politics to play a role here, for one, and two, a lot of the political stuff that came up didn't feel like it had anything to do with the rest of the story — for example, a discussion the characters would be having about parenting would suddenly veer into a drunken rant about capitalism and immigration policies (that's just one example — there were other references to politics that I picked up on scattered throughout the story). I usually get annoyed when a book I'm reading veers into political territory unexpectedly (it's a pet peeve of mine), especially when it has little to nothing to do with the story — in this instance, it definitely affected my reading experience, though luckily the rest of the story was compelling enough that it didn't completely overwhelm.

I'm glad I picked this one up and it was a good read for the most part, but unfortunately I don't think I was able to appreciate the "depth" of the story as much as I usually would have. Perhaps it is because of everything that has been going on in the world lately (plus the added stress overall in my work and family life), I've been finding it a bit of a struggle to read books that lean more toward the "heavy" side of things. But with that said, I'm grateful that I'm able to read at all during this unprecedented time, so if I'm not able to give a book 100% focus or the attention it deserves at the moment, I will try not to beat myself up too hard over it.

Sunday, May 31, 2020

Review: Beach Read (by Emily Henry)


My Rating: 3.5 stars

I’m not much of a romance reader and I tend to get really picky when it comes to love stories, so under normal circumstances, I probably would not have chosen to read a book that is billed as a “romantic comedy” (which is where Emily Henry’s latest work Beach Read falls into), especially when I have a boatload of other books I need to read.  But with everything that has been going on the past few days – both here in the U.S. as well as around the world (plus the pandemic situation) – I wanted a departure from all the “heavy” books I’ve read lately and instead, read something uplifting, positive, and that wouldn’t require me to think too hard.  Coincidentally, my library hold came through a few days ago and since I already had this book on my list of “to reads” from the Summer Reading Guide for one of the book clubs I belong to, I decided to set everything else aside and read this one first.  It turns out that this book was just what I needed during this time – a fun, light-hearted read with characters who were realistically flawed (and also living “messed up” lives) but were still likable and relatable.  January and Gus were characters written in a way that made me automatically want to root for them, even though I already knew full well that no matter what obstacles they may face, they will likely still end up together as most couples in romantic comedies do.  But actually, this was not the typical “rom-com”, nor was it a “fluffy beach read” as most people may expect after seeing the title (pretty sure the irony behind the title was deliberate on the part of the author) – rather, the story had substance in that it dealt with ome difficult subjects in ways that didn’t make light of them, but also weren’t heavy-handed.  There was a good balance of biting humor versus serious reflection that permeated January and Gus’s story consistently from beginning to end, which for me, made them as characters more accessible and the story itself heartfelt as well as emotionally resonant.

With all that said, one complaint I had about the story is that I wish there had been a little more focus on the “bookish” part of the story line.  The premise of having 2 authors switch genres is an interesting one and while we do get glimpses of the book that January tries to write as part of the “bet,” we don’t hear much about Gus’s book outside of a brief mention near the end.  But then again, perhaps that’s asking for too much, since the point of the story wasn’t really the 2 books, but rather the romance that blossomed as a result of it.

Overall, this is a well-written romance that is also clever, smart, and funny, yet at the same time, had a raw, down-to-earth element to it that made the story and characters easy to connect with (at least for me).  I definitely enjoyed this one and even though it didn’t change much for me in terms of reading romances (I’m still not much of a reader of this genre and remain picky on which ones to read), it did make me want to explore this author’s backlist and try a few of her other books when I have time.  If you’re thinking about picking this one up, I heartily recommend it, though a word of caution that there are some racy scenes in here that might be uncomfortable to read for some (especially those who don’t read contemporary romance too often) – though fortunately, those scenes are brief enough to skim without affecting the rest of the story much.

Wednesday, May 27, 2020

Review: The Library of Legends (by Janie Chang)


My Ratings:  3.5 stars

The first thought that popped into my head after I finished reading this book was how different it turned out to be from what I had expected.  From a historical perspective, this is a story I greatly appreciated, as it covered a portion of history not widely known, set during a time period not often depicted in novels about the World War II era.  The year is 1937 in Nanjing, China — as Japanese bombs begin to fall on the city, students and faculty at various schools are ordered to evacuate, heading 1000 miles on a journey toward the safety of China's western provinces.  Minghua University student Hu Lian and her classmates, led by revered teacher Professor Kang, head toward the city of Chengdu, where the university will reassemble to wait out the end of the war.  The journey is tenuous, as the students not only need to avoid the constant threat of Japanese air raids, they also need to make much of the trip on foot.  Additionally, the Minghua students have also been tasked with the responsibility of bringing with them one of the university's greatest treasures — a set of encyclopedias containing ancient myths and folklore collectively known as the Library of Legends.  Along the way, Lian grows close to several of her schoolmates, including second year classmates Yee Meirong and Wu Ying-Ying as well as wealthy fourth year classmate Liu Shaoming and his maidservant Sparrow Chen.  But Lian lives in the shadow of a family secret that she has carried with her most of her life — a secret that, if found out, she fears could destroy everything she worked so hard to achieve.  Later in the journey, Lian discovers a connection between those in her group and the story of The Willow Star and the Prince, which is one of the mythological tales contained in the Library of Legends.  Beyond that though, Lian soon learns that transporting the books awakens various immortals and guardian spirits who are headed on a journey of their own.

Overall, I enjoyed this story well enough, but I wasn't as mesmerized by it as I thought I would be.  Part of the reason is because, while I liked most of the characters, they were written in a way that I found it difficult to connect with them. I felt there was a lack of emotional depth to the characters (and to the story itself, in some aspects), which made it hard for me to feel anything for them when various things happen.  Also, the crossing over of genres – this one incorporated historical fiction, romance, and fantasy --  didn't work as well for me in this instance.  I think the problem for me is that I was expecting the story to lean more toward historical fiction and perhaps feel a little more "epic" in scope (especially given the premise and the setting), but instead the historical elements were too brief and, in my opinion, mostly overshadowed by the fantasy aspects with the mythological tale involving The Willow Star and the Prince and the love story associated with it.  Some parts of the story felt a bit all over the place and didn't flow together as well as it could have, which I think was due to the attempt to blend multiple genres.  The story did have a light-hearted, hopeful tone to it though, which made it a good choice to read during this time of uncertainty.

With historical fiction, I oftentimes enjoy reading the Author's Note almost as much as reading the story itself, and this instance was no different.  Reading about the real life events that certain details in the story were based on and seeing how the author adapted these details is always fascinating and, for me, the additional insight often puts the fictional story in better perspective.  Prior to reading this book, I had heard about the evacuation and temporary relocation of China's universities during the war, but had not read anything substantive about it until now.  I appreciate that author Janie Chang decided to cover this largely overlooked historical event, though of course, I would've preferred for the historical aspect to be stronger as I had mentioned earlier.  But that's just me – overall, this was still a worthy read, one that I would heartily recommend, especially for those who enjoy historical fiction with quite a bit of fantasy (more along the lines of magical realism I guess) mixed in.

Received ARC from William Morrow (HarperCollins) via Edelweiss.

Wednesday, May 20, 2020

Review: These Women (by Ivy Pochoda)


My Rating: 4.5 stars

Six women from different walks of life.  A series of murders, fifteen years apart.  One particularly destitute area of South Los Angeles where chaos and violence run rampant. A society that collectively ignores the pleas of those women who are deemed to be of dubious moral character, based solely on preconceived notions, imagined or otherwise. A place where prejudice goes beyond merely the color of one’s skin, extending also to one’s occupation, the way one speaks, and overall way one lives their life.  This is the world where author Ivy Pochoda sets her heartbreaking yet masterfully told story, and in so doing, gives voice to women who are often forsaken, their thoughts and feelings usually dismissed, their words rarely ever believed. 

Though this is billed as a mystery / thriller, it is apparent very early on in the book that “solving the mystery” of the murders, while necessary, is not as important as letting the stories of these women be told, allowing their voices to be heard. As is expected, of course the perpetrator of the crimes is identified in the end — it was an easy guess, one already figured out a few chapters in, before the first narrative segment was even over.  The way he is found out though is anticlimactic, downplayed, sparse on details — we don’t know too much about him, his background, why he became the way he was, even the details of how he committed his crimes are not entirely clear.  But that is the beauty of how Pochoda structured the narrative — there’s no need to dwell too much on the killer because in the end, who he is doesn’t really matter.  What matters are the women — the victims of his crimes and the family members who get left behind to deal with the aftermath.  Especially poignant are the segments about the mothers — Dorian, Mrs. Holloway, etc. — whose only way to grieve is to make sure their children’s deaths are not ignored and brushed aside as though their existence never mattered in the first place;  their mission then, becomes making sure what was done is never forgotten.  

For me, despite having already figured out the “mystery” way early on, I kept turning the pages because I wanted to know whether justice would prevail in the end, and whether these women, ignored for so long, would finally be heard.  Reading this book made me reflect on a lot of things.  It made me think about family, society, the impact of individual actions and behavior, etc. — most importantly, it served as a reminder of the differences in each of our circumstances and the dangers of passing judgment, especially in those situations where there the understanding of those circumstances is lacking.

These Women is a powerful story, one that absolutely deserves to be read.  With that said though, this is not an easy read by any means — many of the scenes are dark, gritty, gruesome, violent, and there is profanity galore.  It can also be a frustrating read, at times even painful, especially in light of the blatant injustices that take place time and time again throughout the story.   But yet, there is also grace, hope, resilience, and most significantly, the steadfast courage of these women who, despite being constantly ignored, still refuse to be silenced.  A difficult read, but definitely a worthy one!

Received ARC from Ecco (HarperCollins) via NetGalley.