Worst Books of 2017!

And then, we have the worst book list. I had the opposite problem making this that I had with my best book list. I couldn't think of just 10 books. Goddamn, this was a bad reading year for me. Also, you may notice that one genre is very heavily featured. Yes, my thriller kick April through August did not help matters much.

10. The Revolution of Marina M by Janet Finch (4/10)

My Review

  Something I've noticed about this list is that quite a few novels on it haven't angered or, God forbid, offended me, but they are on this list because I really have a hard time finding anything redeemable about them. The Revolution of Marina M is one of them. Sure, there are good things about this book, and I originally wasn't going to put it on this list, but in the end I just... couldn't. Everything about it was just so overwrought and amateurishly done and not good at all. This was a torture porn romance disguised as a serious historical fiction novel with an unbearable main character. I mean, there is some good about this novel, mostly the Russian historical parts, but the amount of bad just overwhelms all good, no matter how much it pains me to put Russian historical fiction on this list.

9. Pointe, Claw by Amber J Keyser (4/10)

My Review

  Frankly, I did not think I hated Pointe, Claw enough to make this list at first. And then, I started to dwell on it and I realized that I really hate this novel. In fact, I really did not like this book so much that I think I kind of hate the author because of it, which is something that I try to avoid. It takes a lot of ego to write a book like Pointe, Claw, and if there's one thing I can't stand, it's ego. I know that a common refrain in the art world is that expertise excuses you for being a pretentious asshole, but that's something I've never bought. But I'm being a hypocrite here, because I've always stood by the idea that one should never judge a work by the creator, it's how I've been able to justify loving Woody Allan films or listening to the Smiths. The reason Pointe, Claw is on this list is not because of my perception of Keyser, it's because this is just a heinous novel with heinous characters, horrible "literary" writing, and just the stink of pretension that covers this entire novel. Ultimately, I think the only reason why Pointe, Claw, isn't higher on this list is because, well, in the end I just didn't care enough about it. Until I really began thinking about the book, I didn't care and could barely remember it. Even writing this snippet, the novel didn't incite the anger in me most of the other entries did. Also, my ratings are relative. In a better reading year, this book probably would have received a 2/10 or 1 star and would have ended up my worst book of the year. This year, no, there are worse dragons to slay.

8. A Good Idea by Cristina Moracho (4/10)

My Review

  A Good Idea was tied with This Is Our Story for the coveted 8th spot on my worst list, but in the end the apathy I felt for This Is Our Story during most of my reading experience and also the fact that I can barely remember it spared it. On the other hand, I was bitching about A Good Idea for like a month after I read it. The main character was just horrible, her relationship toxic but any acknowledgement of how horrible it was for both parties was brushed off. If I had an award for the worst couple of the year, it would be given to Finley and Serena. After reading this book, I came to the conclusion that perhaps revenge thrillers aren't for me, not because I don't like the idea of revenge thrillers, but because most of the ones I read are A Good Idea clones as opposed to Daughter of the Deep Silence.

7. Silent Child by Sarah Denzil (3.5/10)

My Review

  This is my most viewed review of the year. My only explanation for that is that a lot of you hate this book as much as I do. I actually had a weird reading experience with this novel, because it was okay at first, and then after the first chapter I realized that I kind of hated it, but then it took a turn of the comically bad during the climax and I realized that I kind of love to hate this novel. Perhaps this book should be not as low as 7th on this list, especially since I put Pointe, Claw at ninth and I hated that novel, but eh, I guess I should stop acting like the ratings really mean anything. Anyway, the point is that Silent Child is not a very good novel and one that I can't believe received so much hype this year. I mean, why is this book getting nominated for thriller of the year awards? It blew. End of story.

6. It Takes One by Kate Kessler (3/10)

My Review

  This novel gets the distinction of being the first book this year I really hated. It seemed like a good idea on paper, being about a forensic psychologist accused of murder, but it just blew. The main character, Audrey, is a complete and utter bitch. She's obnoxious, full of herself, and, just to piss me off all the more, Kessler did that thing where all characters that hate her are evil and all characters who love her are fantastic. Not only that, the story went in a place that I... disagreed with, to say the least. Well, if there's one good thing about It Takes One, it is that it stopped me from having to get into another book series.

5. Don't Look Back by Jennifer L Armentrout (3/10)

My Review

  The success of Armentrout baffles me. I've read two books by her at this point and I have no idea why people like her work. I mean, sure, I haven't read her best-selling Lux series, but I can't imagine it being any better than The Problem with Forever or Don't Look Back. Don't Look Back is just a painful novel to read. This is a bloated, badly written novel with horrible characters and a plot line straight out of a soap opera but with none of the fun cheese. If this book was written by Natasha Preston, I'd probably love every minute of that disaster. But it's written by Jennifer L Armentrout, and because of that it's painfully bad. And it's only number five on this list! God, this was a bad year for me.

4. The Rattled Bones by SM Parker (2.5/10)

My Review

  And the award for the most poorly written novel of the year is... The Rattled Bones by SM Parker! This is another book I have a hard time finding anything redeeming, worth recommending about The Rattled Bones. Sure, it does have an intriguing plot line, but the writing just kills anything good about it. Of course, it's not like the characters are anything special either. Four months after reading it, I can barely remember any of the characters, because it was obvious that they were constructed out of various common YA personality tropes. I just didn't enjoy reading it at all. It's not fun bad it's just bad bad.

3. Mosquitoland by David Arnold (2-2.5/10)

My Review

  Mosquitoland is the worst of the John Green knock-offs flooding the shelves since The Fault in Our Stars came out. The Fault in Our Stars is probably the worst book I ever read, but at the end of the day I'd rather have the original pretentious ass than anyone trying desperately to be him, that's for sure. I mean, in defense of this novel I knew I wasn't going to like it and I read it anyway, and I am not the target audience for this novel, but what I figured was that it wouldn't offend me nearly as much as it did. This is the worst kind of debut novel, the kind that makes me never, ever want to read anything by David Arnold ever again. 

2. Little Deaths by Emma Flint (2/10)

My Review

  The best way I can describe Little Deaths is if someone sucked all the unintentional comedy out of Silent Child, leaving behind only the half-assed social commentary. My least favorite element of the story is Ruth, who was so innocent and downtrodden and had such a hard life that she couldn't possibly have done anything evil, oh no, why would she? One of my least favorite tropes is the idea that women, and especially mothers, could never commit crimes without having some kind of excuse, whether they were abused or controlled by someone, usually their boyfriends or husbands, whereas when men commit crimes, they never are allowed to have the same excuses women pull out. If there's one thing I learned from watching way too much of the ID channel, it's that both sexes have the capacity for absolutely heinous things and most of them don't even have a reason for what they do beyond a custody battle or an affair. Enough of that rant, though, Little Deaths is just a horrible novel, and I wish I never read it.

1. Missing by Kelley Armstrong (2/10)

My Review

  This is an awful, awful novel with a horribly contrived plot line, soap-opera twists, bad writing, and characters that have nothing redeemable about them whatsoever. This is a third rate horror film disguised as a serious mystery novel, like a fantasy book without any of the fantasy. Nothing in this novel makes realistic sense, and Kelley Armstrong has such a lack of talent writing mysteries that I hope I never see another thriller title under her again. I can't talk about this novel anymore, or else I'll get angry all over again.


We got five dishonorable mentions this year, because I can't narrow it down to three if I tried. In fact, I would put 10 dishonorable mentions, but that seemed excessive. I said it before and I'll say it again- God, what a bad year it was for reading!

The Midnight Dance by Nikki Katz (4.5/10) (my review)- I don't even think Nikki Katz herself knew what she wanted to do with The Midnight Dance. Good idea, horrible execution.

Manhattan Beach by Jennifer Egan (4.5/10) (my review)- This is a hot mess of a book, but I didn't feel strongly any which way about it.

Violet Grenade by Victoria Scott (4-4.5/10) (my review)- Honestly, due to how badly this book is written, it probably should have made this list. But I just had so much fun reading it that I feel too badly about hating it.

Simon vs the Homo Sapiens Agenda by Becky Albertalli (3.5/10) (my review)- I was seriously considering putting Simon on the list, but in the end, I can't hate this book the way I really want to.

The Cabin by Natasha Preston (3/10) (my review)- Another book that amused me too much to truly hate. If it was a better reading year, though I'd probably put it on.

So, what are your least favorite books of the year? I'd love to hear about what you think about any of these books/what your choices are. Let's commiserate together!

The Revolution of Marina M by Janet Fitch Review

WARNING: THERE MAY BE SPOILERS BELOW

“Petrograd. The sound is bronze, and this is a story of bronze.”- The Revolution of Marina M, Janet Fitch 

St. Petersburg, New Year's Eve, 1916. Marina Makarova is a young woman of privilege who aches to break free of the constraints of her genteel life, a life about to be violently upended by the vast forces of history. Swept up on these tides, Marina will join the marches for workers' rights, fall in love with a radical young poet, and betray everything she holds dear, before being betrayed in turn.

As her country goes through almost unimaginable upheaval, Marina's own coming-of-age unfolds, marked by deep passion and devastating loss, and the private heroism of an ordinary woman living through extraordinary times. This is the epic, mesmerizing story of one indomitable woman's journey through some of the most dramatic events of the last century.

This has been a good year for spectacularly underwhelming historical fiction and The Revolution of Marina M is no exception. 

First, I want to talk about the prose. I'm sure some would love the way this book was written, but I come from the less is more school of thought and, well, Fitch's writing style is not that at all. The word overwrought comes to mind a lot. It's so purple, so simile-stuffed that reading it makes me tired. Sometimes, I just wanted to rip that laptop away from her and do some hard backspacing. Purple is beautiful in small doses, but when your 800 page novel is written like that it's going to feel a lot longer than 800 pages. 

And no where is that purple prose more obvious than in the goddamn sex scenes. My God. Fitch writes sex scenes like something right out of a dime store romance novel.

Also, the main character got on my nerves constantly. As some other reviews pointed out, she has no thoughts or opinions of her own and constantly parrots others. She's always on the side of the morally good and just, and when others aren't as perfect as she is, they immediately get dropped by her. She can't see the forest for the trees. And for God's sake, does Janet Fitch think we care at all about Genya vs Koyla when there's a fucking revolution going on??

The only real way to enjoy The Revolution of Marina M is to only care about the plot and not try and figure out any of the characters. Why are they acting like that? Because the plot demands them to. Why is this happening now? Because the plot demands it. Why is Marina acting like this and this never happened? Because the plot demands it. The best example I can think of is when Varvara shows up drunk and tells Marina's father that she (Marina) helped the Bolsheviks overthrow the Provincial Government, causing Marina to get thrown out of her house. Why Varvara does this is never actually explained, and, bafflingly, Marina is still friends with the bitch. With friends like that...

But then again, Fitch's characters aren't really the best. They're very one-note, and any attempts at devolpment are usually heavy-handed and transparently point to whether or not Fitch wants us to find them sympathetic or not. If she wants us to like them, they become saintly, and if she wants us to dislike them they become a devil. 

I once read a review on Goodreads describing a book as being tragedy porn (I believe it was an Ellen Hopkins novel which, yeah, makes sense) and that phrase is perfect for this book. Marina is this beautiful woman whom everyone falls in love with and whom goes through so many hardships, most of which have some kind of sexual component. She's such a lovely victim one can't help but fall in love with her struggle. And so much of her struggle is unnecessary and takes away from the main Russian Revolution story-line- I mean, what does her kidnapping by the Baron in the middle or the cult at the end have to do with anything? It's just filler to endear us to Marina.

I mean, I did really like the Russian history parts. Those were very well done and well researched and were also engaging. I think the fault, though, entirely rests on the character of Marina, even though she doesn't have enough personality to carry a book. 

Unless you really love books that put their characters through unnecessary hardships, I wouldn't recommend this book. I'm not even sure who this novel is meant to appeal to- this isn't women's historical fiction a la Kristin Hannah, a Russian historical fiction lover would be bored by it. The only people I could see really getting into it would be the Oprah Book Club types who love this kind of Mary-Sue level tragedy. 

4 out of 10

If you liked this book, you may also like:

Sashenka by Simon Sebag Montefiore

Your Mouth Is Lovely by Nancy Richler
The Bronze Horseman by Paullina Simon

Little Deaths by Emma Flint Review

WARNING: THERE MAY BE SPOILERS BELOW

“...but when tragedy strikes, there’s a tendency to assume that someone is different. Special. That there’s something about them that makes them the kind of person bad things happen to. Because the alternative—that bad things can happen to anyone, at any time—is unthinkable.”- Little Deaths, Emma Flint

Inspired by a true story, Little Deaths, like celebrated novels by Sarah Waters and Megan Abbott, is compelling literary crime fiction that explores the capacity for good and evil in us all.

It's 1965 in a tight-knit working-class neighborhood in Queens, New York, and Ruth Malone - a single mother who works long hours as a cocktail waitress - wakes to discover her two small children, Frankie Jr. and Cindy, have gone missing. Later that day, Cindy's body is found in a derelict lot a half mile from her home, strangled. Ten days later, Frankie Jr.'s decomposing body is found. Immediately, all fingers point to Ruth.

As police investigate the murders, the detritus of Ruth's life is exposed. Seen through the eyes of the cops, the empty bourbon bottles and provocative clothing which litter her apartment, the piles of letters from countless men and Ruth's little black book of phone numbers, make her a drunk, a loose woman - and therefore a bad mother. The lead detective, a strict Catholic who believes women belong in the home, leaps to the obvious conclusion: facing divorce and a custody battle, Malone took her children's lives.

Pete Wonicke is a rookie tabloid reporter who finagles an assignment to cover the murders. Determined to make his name in the paper, he begins digging into the case. Pete's interest in the story develops into an obsession with Ruth, and he comes to believe there's something more to the woman whom prosecutors, the press, and the public have painted as a promiscuous femme fatale. Did Ruth Malone violently kill her own children, is she a victim of circumstance - or is there something more sinister at play? 

In my Silent Child review, I mentioned that I hate a certain type of literary mothers I like to call the "martyr mothers". Books with martyr moms in them are usually told from their point of view and the reason why I hate them is because they are always so beautiful and pure and innocent and they're always long-suffering and it seems like the only reason they have children is to make themselves look like even more of a martyr. The only use their children have in the plot is to make themselves look better. And oh boy, do we have a case here in the form of Ruth Malone. Her life is so hard, she has to deal with two young kids all by herself and has to work long hours as a cocktail waitress and also has to do with the police going after her when her children turn up dead. I couldn't really blame the police for doing so, since she was the last person to see them alive and she always seemed like she was hiding something, like when she was protesting about the police searching her apartment and got annoyed when they pointed out the amount of booze bottles in the trash, or when they talked about how much she was drinking or how many guys she brought home. I don't know about you, but drinking and men coming and going a) isn't a sign of a good mother and b) means that there is very good chance that either she did it or one of her boyfriends did. That's just common sense.

I was also annoyed by the reporter, who became convinced she was innocent, why? Because Ruth was so bewitchingly beautiful that she couldn't have committed such a heinous crime and besides, she was a mother. How could a mother kill her own children? Andrea Yates, anybody? I mean, it doesn't happen often because, you know, nature and hormones and all that, but still, is there any reason why Ruth couldn't have killed them? 

Flint is absolutely horrible at fleshing out her characters, by the way. I mean, the detective was so transparently evil that it was obvious he was the bad guy right from when he ate spaghetti without closing his mouth. It's just plain bad writing and also kind of offensive to use someone's appearance or manners to show that they are the antagonist, just as bad as it is to use beauty to show how good and pure someone is. The only time one can get away with that is in fairy tales meant for children. 

But the thing that pissed me off the most, made me think of the godawful Silent Child the most, is the ending. So here we go:

WARNING: MAJOR SPOILERS BELOW

It's revealed at the end that Frank did it, which I kind of figured because at some points it's fairly obvious- it annoyed me because Ruth couldn't have done it because she was a mother, but Frank sure as hell could have killed them even though he's a father- but I digress. It's why he killed the kids that really got me going, since it's revealed that he killed them to get Ruth's attention. Jesus fucking Christ, the death of two small children was all because Ruth was so beautiful and enchanting. The kids were never anything more than a way to show everyone how great Ruth was and in the end, were nothing more than a fucking plot point. This is worst than Emma's "friend" helping kidnap Aiden because of how jealous she was of Emma. What the actual fuck, Flint?

MAJOR SPOILER SECTION OVER

The worst part about this book is that the writing is actually kind of decent, which means it's not even enjoyably bad the same way Silent Child was. It's just straight up bad and even offensive. It's also somewhat historical fiction- in the 60s- but there's not really much done with that. In the end, it's a feminist thriller, which means I probably shouldn't have picked it up in the first place, but it will definitely make my least favorites list at the end of the year. I hate you so much, Little Deaths, that you may replace Missing as my 1# least favorite book of 2017

2 out of 10

The Rattled Bones by SM Parker Review

WARNING: THERE MAY BE SPOILERS BELOW

“But I think this island holds more history than the university could ever uncover. And there are endless ways for secrets to slip out into the world.”- The Rattled Bones, SM Parker

Unearthing years of buried secrets, Rilla Brae is haunted by ghostly visions tied to the tainted history of a mysterious island in this haunting novel from the author of The Girl Who Fell.

Maine-bred, independent Rilla Brae is no stranger to the deep. She knows the rhythms of hard work and harder seas. But when she experiences the sudden death of her father, the veil between the living and the dead blurs and she begins to be haunted by a girl on a nearby, uninhabited island. The girl floats a song over the waves, and it is as beautiful as it is terrifying. Familiar and distant.

Then Rilla meets Sam, a University of Southern Maine archeology student tasked with excavating the very island where the ghostly girl has appeared. Sam sifts the earth looking for the cultural remains of an island people who were forcibly evicted by the state nearly a hundred years ago. Sam tells Rilla the island has a history no locals talk about—if they know about it at all—due to the shame the events brought to the working waterfront community. All Rilla knows for sure is that the island has always been there—an eerie presence anchored in the stormy sea. Now Sam’s work and the ghostly girl’s song lure Rilla to the island’s shores.

As Rilla helps Sam to unearth the island’s many secrets, Rilla’s visions grow—until the two discover a tragedy kept silent for years. And it’s a tragedy that has everything to do with Rilla’s past.

Normally, when I dislike the book, I dislike all sorts of things by it, the plot, the characters (especially the characters), hell, usually the writing is the thing I have the least problem with. Not in this case. Okay, the characters weren't the best, but the writing was just... bad.

The annoying thing about the writing is that it could almost be actually kinda good. And I tried to see that. But there's just something about it that just grated me. The writing is, well, a lot of things. It took me quite a lot of reading to figure out exactly what offended me so much about it. And then it hit me. I think the problem is that Parker doesn't know how to transition from one action to another, so it sounds kind of stilted and choppy, and that combined with the elaborateness of the sentences she's writing makes for a very debut-y writing style. This would be fine, EXCEPT SHE'S NOT A DEBUT AUTHOR. This is kind of a good example of what I'm talking about: "I'm grateful when the doorbell announces Brenda Sherfey on the step offering tuna casserole and condolences. I abandon Brenda's food to the counter because the fridge is already crammed with sorrow."

I also got a bit of a paranormal romance novel vibe, though I'm not quite sure why, especially since I've only ever read a grand total of one paranormal romance novel. 

Parker also does little annoying things, like narrate every action, make everything sound overly dramatic as if every little things has a deeper meaning, and, the most annoying thing out of all of it, stating the obvious. Like in this case: "His words confirm that he's 'from away'- a transplant to our state." No shit, I got that because the sentence before he commented about the directness of Mainers. If I said I like how nice people from the Midwest are, would you think I was from the Midwest? No, of course not. I despise it when people waste words. 

In fact, the writing reminds me of a point and click game, or more specifically, one of those Her Interactive Nancy Drew games. I was have expecting some sentence like "I jiggle the door handle. It's locked." to turn up at one point. Actually, if I'm mimicking her writing style, it'd probably be something more along the lines of: "I jiggle the door handle. It won't open. It's locked.". Look, okay, I have a strong nostalgic connection the those games. My sister, best friend at the time, and I all used to crowd around my sister's laptop or one of our two old desktops on some Saturday afternoon back in middle school and play them. I think we only ever actually finished one or two of them, but we still loved them. But that doesn't necessarily mean the narrative style of the games translates well over to print media.

One last point about the writing. I think Parker really needs to stop adding over the top metaphorical imagery to every goddamn sentence. Like this one: "I felt a shiver crawl up the ladder of my spine". Sure, if it had just said "I felt a shiver crawl up my spine" I might have thought it cliche, but I wouldn't hate it. For some reason, the addition of the ladder just irritated me. It still doesn't make it original, and just adds unnecessary weight dragging the sentence down. She really can't leave well enough alone, can she?

So what else is bad about it? The characters are extremely unoriginal. Rilla is your typical Strong Independent Womyn, who comes from a long line of Strong Independent Womyn- including her grandmother, who somehow managed to be a voluntary single mother despite growing up in a time where voluntary single motherhood was not a thing. Sam is like a watered down Augustus Waters, one who doesn't have a romantic attachment to Rilla. He's passionate about things, gives long, poetic speeches, and has quirky exchanges with our main character. He's also basically the personification of the male version of the much-hated Not Like Other Girls trope. Rilla constantly reminds us how he's Not Like Other Boys, he apologizes for interrupting her, he doesn't sit too close to her, he's smart and driven, and forgive me for saying this, but it seems very sexist. Like, a lot of people complain about how sexist the Not Like Other Girls trope is, because it puts down other women or whatever. The Not Like Other Boys is kind of like that, but in a different way, painting men as being idiotic, macho pigs, but not Sam because he's a gentleman. If you are going to condemn one, you must also condemn the other. 

There's other cliched characters, the wise, old, and spiritual grandma (where do all these wise old grandmas come from? Most of the sweet old ladies I know do things like go to church every Sunday, talk about their grandkids, and make sure nobody leaves before they've all gained at least ten pounds), and the old stodgy villain, who goes by the name of Old Man Benner because this is a bad mystery novel, we need a sexist old codger. There's also, in a nice change of pace, a dead dad and a missing mom instead of the opposite. This would be better if the mom's leaving wasn't excused. Interestingly, she seemed kind of unaffected by both. Frankly, if she didn't always explicitly always remind us how much grief she felt, I wouldn't have known at all that she felt any. In fact, the author is so bad at showing things she has to tell us things directly because if she didn't, I would think Rilla is either a robot or a sociopath.

All of this is a shame, because the plot really was a good one. The island of Maluga was an interesting place to set a book, and one with a fascinating history. If Parker had been a more original character creator or a much, much better writer, this book could have really shone. In fact, it probably would have reminded me much more of the Her Interactive Nancy Drew games. I kind of wish it was, called something like the Ghost Girl of Maluga Island because that would have been way more fun than this book ended up being.

2.5 out of 10

Pointe, Claw by Amber J Keyser Review

WARNING: THERE MAY BE SPOILERS BELOW

“I am far bigger than the skin that holds me.”- Pointe, Claw, Amber J Keyser

Jessie Vale dances in an elite ballet program that requires perfection to land a spot with the professional company. When she is cast in an animalistic avant garde production, her careful composure cracks wide open. Nothing has felt more dangerous.

Meanwhile, her friend Dawn McCormick's world is full of holes. She wakes in strange places, bruised, battered, and unable to speak. The doctors are out of ideas.

These childhood friends are both running out of time. Jessie has one shot at her ballet dream. Dawn's blackouts are getting worse. At every turn, they crash into the many ways girls are watched, judged, used, and discarded. Should they play it safe or go feral?

For some reason, I've always been draw to ballet. I've never danced ballet beyond a Parks and Rec program, but I find ballet to be so classically beautiful and, well, elegant, everything I love. Degas is one of my favorite painters, because of it. So I picked up Pointe, Claw, because it reminded me of several other YA ballet books that, well, I didn't like per say, but it seemed like a safe pick. 

Right away, I could tell that Keyser takes herself way too seriously. I got this impression from both the summary and the author bio in the back, in which she told us exactly what she was trying to do with the book, which was apparently trying to answer some philosophical question nobody really cares about. That struck me as a slightly narcissistic move, like she was trying to show off how smart she was even though she's writing a YA novel about sick kids and ballerinas, which is more common than you'd think it is (like Maybe One Day and Side Effects May Vary).

And the book does come across as a vanity project. The abstract prose and open, slightly confusing ending just came across as the author majorly feeling herself and her intelligence. I mean, the writing's very pretty, I'll give her that, but also screams of pretension. The narrative style and characters made me think Keyser was trying to be Wintergirls-era Laurie Halse Anderson, but Wintergirls was a more successful novel because Anderson seemed more genuine and like she wasn't writing the book because she wanted to show off her brain. I'm starting to also think Keyser really wants to be Anais Nin, what with the abstract and erotic nature of her prose.

I feel like a big part of what Keyser was also trying to do in this novel is shock people. She wanted to write a controversial novel involving female sexuality, and none of those parts honestly felt genuine either. The constant references to masturbation and sex and strippers felt like a little kid who just learned how to swear, so he drops f-bombs left and right to try and get a rise out of people. Eh. I suppose in that respect it's very avant garde of her. Shocking for the sake of being shocking, amiright? Seriously though, it got to the point where I could have a fucking drinking game for every time masturbation is brought up and it's mentioned in the oddest of places, like Keyser always has to remind us girls do it too. 

Actually, the avant garde ballet that's the center of Jessie's parts is a great metaphor for this book. It wants to be wild and animalistic yet also beautiful, yet when I read about it it comes across as an unintentional parody of the whole movement. It's funny in a way I don't think it should be because of how overwritten it is. And yet, no one wants to say it's bad, because then they will be accused of "not understanding it". So of course, the ballet gets a standing ovation and the book gets 4 and 5 stars from everyone, and I'm over here wondering if I'm broken because the emperor's naked to me. On a lighter note, the avant garde scenes also remind me of the "Choreography" number in White Christmas. I love that movie. 

Anyway, I also didn't really like the characters very much. Jessie had no personality whatsoever and Dawn was just so darned special. She wanted to find out what's wrong with her but rejected every fucking diagnoses all the "condescending" doctors gave her, dismissing them all as being sexist and often withholding information because she didn't want to get an answer she didn't agree with. Personally it sounded like most of her issues were psychosomatic- the mind is a powerful thing- but I'm far from a doctor. I think the thing that pissed me off the most was that she wanted to be a fucking scientist and she didn't even listen to any of her doctors. It seems like she just wanted to be miserable the rest of her life, and frankly it got to the point where I couldn't blame her stepdad for wanting to kick her out because who would want to live with a girl like that, a girl who you can't even say hello to someone without her telling him about all the parasites that could kill you. 

Also, I feel the need to discuss the scene in the book involving marbles. The fact that the girls were nine years old in that scene and doing those very adult things made me think something was seriously wrong. And Keyser described it in loving detail, making it clear she didn't think the two girls were doing anything wrong and that they were "making each other feel good" made me sick. She does realize that that's how a pedophile explains his actions to his victim, right? And then there's the fact that they were nine years old, too old to want to dance around naked. The parents were right in punishing their kids for that. Those kids should not have been doing that or anything else sexual at that age, and it made me wonder what happened in Keyser's past that she would ever think that was okay for a pair of kids to do, regardless of sex. 

So I did not like it. Sure, on the surface the book seems so seductively pretty, but once you look in deeper you realize the water's actually pretty shallow. There is nothing behind those pretty words, even though it seems like it at first.

4 out of 10

Missing by Kelley Armstrong Review

WARNING: THERE MAY BE SPOILERS BELOW

“Here I am, children. Right over here. Step off that safe, moonlit path and come meet me. You aren't afraid, are you?”- Missing, Kelley Armstrong

The only thing Winter Crane likes about Reeve’s End is that soon she’ll leave it. Like her best friend did. Like her sister did. Like most of the teens born in town have done. There’s nothing for them there but abandoned mines and empty futures. They’re better off taking a chance elsewhere.

The only thing Winter will miss is the woods. Her only refuge. At least it was. Until the day she found Lennon left for dead, bleeding in a tree.

But now Lennon is gone too. And he has Winter questioning what she once thought was true. What if nobody left at all? What if they’re all missing?

For some reason, whenever fantasy writers feel the need to branch out, it's always into the mystery genre. I don't really know why, but, in my opinion, it never really works. I'm sure their thought process is something like "I can write violence. I can write action. I can write a mystery novel" giving no regard to the fact that in order for most mysteries to really work, they need to be ground in reality. Sure, I'm not including books like Night Film, which include heavy paranormal elements, or other more supernatural based mysteries because those aren't trying to be realistic anyway. But fantasy writers, when they write mysteries, have a tendency to exaggerate reality while at the same time not include any fantastical elements, creating something that resembles real life but just... isn't.

I say this because, no matter how many mysteries Armstrong may have written, she's still a fantasy writer. I mean, when your heroine's name is Winter Crane, it's pretty obvious. Also, there was the whole bow and arrow hunting thing, to the point where I wrote down in my notes "is this The Hunger Games?". Because, being from a kind of hick corner of New England (it doesn't seem like it, but trust me, it is, you pull up to my old high school parking lot and you'll see an even mix of Audis and pick ups with Confederate flag bumper stickers despite being goddamn Yankees), I'm familiar with hunters. I also don't have an issue with hunters, as a whole. I love animals, but I ride horses and hang out around horses a ton and if you're around any kind of farm life for extended periods of time, even horses, some things stop bothering you as much as they used to. Like hunting. No, my issue with it was the fact that she was hunting with a bow and arrow. No one I know who hunts does it with a fucking bow and arrow. What is this, the summer between fourth and fifth grade doing archery at Girl Scout camp? Sure, some people use crossbows, but the majority of people who hunt do it with a good old fashioned rifle or shotgun. The reason for that should be fairly obvious. Who really wants to constantly stop and reload every time they make a shot? It loses precious time, and if Winter truly didn't want animals to suffer, she would hunt with a gun, because it's quicker than, again, stopping and reloading every time she wanted to take a shot. Also, a gun would have helped her a hell of a lot more when those feral dogs were attacking her, anyway.

Also, if the author is against guns she needs to get over it if she's writing a novel with a hunting character. Once you start killing anything, you've lost any moral ground in that area that you have to stand on. I would also like to take this moment to talk about the pack of feral dogs. First of all, what other book do we know of that includes a pack of wild dogs who repeatedly show up to almost kill the heroine? The Hunger Games, anyone? Also, feral dogs are rarely violent. We've done a pretty damn good job at domesticating dogs, and, with the exception of certain breeds- German Shepherds are pretty easily given into violence, as well as many guard dogs, because we've bred them to be- we've bred the violence out of them. However, even German Shepherds and the like have to be provoked to act violent, they wouldn't just attack someone out of the blue. Of course, the definition of provoke is up to the dog, some dogs, for instance, consider merely walking on their property a criminal act, others need you to actually lay a threatening hand on their owner. But even guard dogs wouldn't really be aggressive when strays, because they don't have anything to protect.

I'm going to come back to the name thing now, because it's one of the little things that get me mad. The two brothers are named Jude and Lennon. Winter gets the reference right away and Lennon is impressed. Apparently, few people- even teachers- get his name right. Winter attributes this to her mother's liking of old music, and I wonder when authors will understand that liking the Beatles or the Rolling Stones isn't some sign of the main character's quirkiness or intelligence. Especially because, even if you didn't get Jude, Lennon is as obvious as a slap in the face. I'm not even that big of a Beatles fan- I like them causally-, but I would have understood that both their names were Beatles references. Hell, even Jude on its own is fairly obvious, and I don't even really like the song Hey Jude. Or even John Lennon that much, for that matter (my favorite Beatle is the under loved George, because he was the cutest, but Paul was the genius behind the band, let's be honest here). And even if most of the kids didn't get Lennon, which is doubtful given that nobody I know doesn't know who either the Beatles or John Lennon are, the teachers at least should get it! I mean, come on now.

Also the mystery sucked. It was exactly who you thought it would be. Has anyone ever read Daughter of the Deep Silence? Because if you had, you know who the culprit was in this case. Not much risk taking here. And the book wasn't even that dark. I mean, sure, there's plenty of dog killing, deer killing, etc, but again, I'm not really that bothered by stuff like that, especially when the dogs killed haven't really endeared themselves to me in the first place. There was no real gruesome human murders, either. Maybe I've just let myself be colored by the recent books I've read, which had things like the hammer murders of 10 year old girls or an entire family being shot in a cellar or candy apples shoved up dead girl's vaginas to really be bothered by dog killings or girls who you just knew were going to live turn up, "tortured", but alive. As a result, I don't think the violence in this book was that bad, and it certainly didn't unnerve me or disgust me. I was more disturbed by the axe murders in Violet Grenade than I was by this supposedly twisted serial kidnapper/killer.

Winter Crane was another fantastically cliche heroine with a fantastically cliche goal. She wants to be a doctor and get out of her hometown. She wants to be a doctor despite having no real bedside manner. Maybe she should be a medical examiner instead. Of course her mother is dead and her father is a drunk who beats her and she's a stone cold survivor who knows how to live by herself in Appalachia. She's also gorgeous, so gorgeous people feel the need to comment on it repeatedly. And she's smart, too. And it all relies on her to fix everything, because everyone, especially the sheriff, in her small town is stupid and corrupt. I'm impressed by how much judgement Armstrong passed on Appalachia, when she was probably trying to do the exact opposite. Look, my dad's family is from Pennsylvania. The Appalachian part of Pennsylvania actually. His grandfather worked in the coal mines when he was a kid and the railroad when he got big enough to get out of the coal mines. His dad never went to college. And yet, believe it or not, he wasn't so stupid he would have kept calling someone a governor if he was corrected the first time that it was a congressman. I never really found making fun of someone's stupidity, especially when that someone is from the most poverty-stricken area of the USA, funny. Instead, it comes across as mean and doesn't do much to endear little miss Winter to me at all.

And the love interest in Jude! Holy hell, Armstrong wasn't skimping on the cliches in him, either. He was the tortured rich boy, who heroically eschews his adoptive family's fortune and shames his younger brother for going along with it. I don't see anything wrong with embracing the circumstances of your birth or fate or whatever, just as long as you are aware of how lucky you are to be born in that specific bed or however you want to fit that saying to your specific circumstance. It's like how the beginning of Gatsby goes "...just remember that all the people in the world haven't had the advantages you have". You don't need to complete reject your family, no, that reeks of what wealthy Bolsheviks did during the Russian Revolution, and most of them ended up shot anyway. And, let's be honest here, it does no good to be spending most of your time tortured by how wealthy you are compared to others. If it bothers you that much, do what Carnegie did and put your money all towards public works. And besides, does anyone really want to be pushed through the foster system? Honestly, if Jude was that concerned about he got to his current position in life, he could easily assuage his guilt by, again, putting money towards foster programs or means to help kids whose parents were killed. My point is, rejecting your family and going to live in a dingy apartment with three roommates isn't really doing anything productive, is it?

It's also written in a not very good way. Too much fantasy influence in my opinion, theatrical in a way that doesn't work for me. I mean, read the quote above. It comes across as third rate horror flick as opposed to creepy serial killer drama. 

So, if you can't tell, I despised this book. There is nothing I could find redeemable about it. Hands down, my least favorite book of the month, and probably the year so far. It'd be a cold day in hell before I pick up another Kelley Armstrong again.

2 out of 10

A Good Idea by Cristina Moracho Review

WARNING: THERE MAY BE SPOILERS BELOW

“Loss is a strange alchemy that changes you forever, remakes you into someone, something else... It's the price of admission for this whole human experience.”- A Good Idea, Cristina Moracho

Can the right kind of boy get away with killing the wrong kind of girl?

Fin and Betty’s close friendship survived Fin’s ninth-grade move from their coastal Maine town to Manhattan. Calls, letters, and summer visits continued to bind them together, and in the fall of their senior year, they both applied to NYU, planning to reunite for good as roommates.

Then Betty disappears. Her ex-boyfriend Calder admits to drowning her, but his confession is thrown out, and soon the entire town believes he was coerced and Betty has simply run away. Fin knows the truth, and she returns to Williston for one final summer, determined to get justice for her friend, even if it means putting her loved ones—and herself—at risk.

But Williston is a town full of secrets, where a delicate framework holds everything together, and Fin is not the only one with an agenda. How much is she willing to damage to get her revenge and learn the truth about Betty’s disappearance, which is more complicated than she ever imagined—and infinitely more devastating?

I have two hopes for thrillers. One, that they're good, and two, if they aren't good, that they're so bad they're good. I'm talking either Tana French fantastic or Natasha Preston terrible, basically. Typically, though, I find most YA thrillers are bad, but not so bad they make it to fun bad. Most of them have annoying as all hell heroines with no detective skills who like to make things worst and still end up figuring out who did it, cliched settings, and oddly useless grown-ups. Enter A Good Idea, by Cristina Moracho.

Before we begin, a warning: the creepy old bathtub is totally coverbait. It's in the book for maybe a half a scene if that. 

I consider myself kind of an expert in small and rural New England towns. Probably because I am from a small and rural New England town in an area of small and rural New England towns. When most people think of New England they think of the seaside or skiing or those ridiculously wealthy old money WASPs, not really realizing that a lot of New England is in fact small towns with tons of farmland and lots of space between houses. Our towns have charming names and a relatively large town has a people count in the 10000s. I graduated from a school of 4-500, and my class size was considered large at 170 kids. We were actually considered to be on the larger side in the surrounding area because we had our own high school instead of going in with one or two other nearby towns. My point is, I know small towns. I also know that the town in this book is easily the most stereotypical town ever.

Seriously, why are all small and rural towns in YA lit the same? They all have the same tropes- corrupt mayor/sheriff, bigoted people, etc. This town reminded me of the one in It Takes One, which put a bad taste in my mouth. I don't think Moracho has ever been to a New England small town before. Or if she has, she just thinks that this portrayal is the only way to sell books. 

And the writing. Everything about it was just Moracho trying so hard to write a Southern Gothic, Harper Lee kind of story, a twisted rural noir with a main character the teens can relate to and get behind. Did not work for me. Finley's narration grated on me hard and so much just felt like it was there because it's trendy now. Again, creepy small town, "sarcastic" main character, setting the book in the 90s, drug use, excessive swearing, vintage clothing... I could go on and on. Moracho was also trying super hard to get a creepy, David Lynch/Twin Peaks vibe but it just didn't work, because nothing was ever actually creepy. The bits about the ghosts and the "curse" that Betty's death apparently inflicted on the town just felt underdeveloped and ultimately unsuccessful. I've been more creeped out by stories I wrote when I was six than I have been of this book. Also, her written characterization of Finley does not match up with how Finley is actually portrayed. We are told she is sarcastic and she analyzes people like she analyzes movies, always interested in the inner workings of their minds. With the exception of a few lukewarm one-liners, we see no evidence of either of the two in Finley's actual narrative.

And yes, there is an excessive amount of drug use, tons of (underage) drinking, and swearing. This is passed off as no big deal. That didn't feel particularly realistic to me. I mean, I never swear in front of my parents, even now, because it doesn't seem really appropriate. Also, Finley's dad seems perfectly fine with his daughter getting wasted and fucked by people she barely knows. Kind of odd, if you ask me. I'm no prude (well, depending on who you ask), but damn girl, you need serious rehab. 

But hands down the part of this book that just pushed this book over to hate for me was the main character. Are you seeing a trend? If I hate the main character and I know the author is trying to write a likable character, I can't stand the book. Finley is just so annoying and narrow-minded and hypocritical. She doesn't listen to reason at all whatsoever. She gets so many really great and reasonable points or scenarios as to what actually happened to Betty brought up by the adults she talks to and because they don't fit in her perfect little small-minded view of what happened to Betty she throws them out immediately. She couldn't ever actually admit that she didn't actually know Betty as well as everyone else in the town did. She makes so many claims- Betty would never overdose, Betty would never kill herself- and yet she has no idea that she doesn't really know the chick she calls her best friend at all. 

I'll touch more on her hypocrisy in the spoilers, but I just wanted to say that honestly I can't believe that she ever could have lived in this town. She just seemed like just because she lived in New York for four years she's so much more sophisticated than those, how did she put it, "provincial hicks" in her home town. And honestly? Speaking from someone who loves New York City dearly, YA novels are way too enamoured of the City. Take my sister, for instance. Now, ever since she was little, she's been a city girl. Lived for our trips to the City every couple of months or so, always told us that someday she was going to live there, counted down the months until she graduated and went to college in New York. She was home every weekend, homesick for New England and our small town. Sure, she loves New York, but she never looked down upon where she was from as being uncultured or hill-billy, unlike little miss Finley here.

I mean, the other characters aren't really great either. I really did not like Serena, and did not enjoy their relationship at all. Serena reminded me way too much of Eden from Paperweight. The difference here is that with Paperweight, Eden was throughout the whole novel portrayed as an extremely negative influence on Stevie, getting her into drugs, breaking apart her relationship with her brother, etc. all for the sake of drama. Serena, through the entire novel, is considered a good love interest, despite the fact that she's giving Finley highly addictive painkillers (how the hell is Finley never addicted to them, by the way?) and dragging her along in this insane and idiotic plan for revenge. They feed off of each other, and it's never shown as even a potentially bad thing until the last few chapters. Even towards the end, Finley brushes off any warnings she gets about how manipulative and not good Serena is. 

I think the only interesting character in this whole book is Silas. He's like a cross between Dr Jacoby and Leo, if you can imagine that. In fact, the entire novel is kind of like Moracho's trying to write a Twin Peaks. I mean, think about it. Finley's kind of like Donna, and maybe Maddy, too. I get major Laura vibes from Betty (oddly enough, I also get Audrey vibes). Serena's a strange gender-bent mix of James and Bobby. I guess Emily's meant to be a gender-bent Sheriff Truman. The setting is a small woodsy town. But the thing is, I was never that invested in the melodrama of the teenagers' storyline in Twin Peaks. I was always more interested in what Cooper and Truman were doing. And not to mention, I feel like Donna, James, and Maddy weren't so close-minded that they just decided who did it and then tried to make all the evidence fit into that neat little box. They genuinely just wanted to know who killed their friend. Sure, they did do stupid shit like break into people's houses and in one case inadvertently cause a death (I'm still mad at Donna for that), but this book reads like they all figured that, I don't know, Bobby is solely responsible for the death of Laura and then tried their damnedest to incriminate him. 

WARNING: MAJOR SPOILERS BELOW

This is one of the strangest mystery novels I think I ever read. It annoyed me how sure Finley was of Calder, and it was odd how it's not really a whodunnit. All I was thinking was that I'd really hate to have Finley on my jury. She's so deadset that Calder killed her that she can't believe any other points of view. And she's a fucking hypocrite because you just know that if Caroline had died from the drugs Owen gave her, then she would be screaming from the rooftops that Caroline wanted to die because she took the drugs herself and of course Owen wasn't responsible at all, but even though Betty literally begged Calder to kill her, Calder's still a murderer. And honestly, Betty's a fucking selfish bitch for even making him do it. If she wanted to die that much, she should have, I don't know, overdosed or walked into the ocean a la Edna Pontellier and spared the man she supposedly loved from having to deal with the guilt of giving her what she wanted most in the world. I don't know. What I do know is that this book just pissed me off.

MAJOR SPOILER SECTION OVER

So do I recommend this book? I don't know. I'm sure someone else would like this book way more than I did. I mean, I did think it was an interesting idea, but I couldn't stand the relationship in the book or the main character. Not to mention, we all know who killed her. I think the real mystery in this novel is why this book even exists in the first place.

4 out of 10