NetGalley Archives - Page 20 of 47

Yzabel / October 16, 2016

Review: Curioddity

My rating: [rating=3]

Blurb:

Will Morgan is a low-budget detective after quitting his job and hardly ever has any work. When one day a mysterious man named Mr. Dinsdale, curator of an even more mysterious Curioddity Museum (a museum that houses legendary relics of history), visits him and asks him to find a wooden box made of teak, with a mother of pearl inlay that contains the world’s largest sample of levity, Wil thinks it is all a joke. He accepts the task and before long finds a worthy substitute to meet Mr. Dinsdale’s specifications. What Wil soon learns, however, is that there is a whole other world out there, a world he can only see by learning to un-see things, and in this world there are people who want to close the Curioddity museum down. With the help of his new girlfriend Lucy, Wil will do everything he can to deliver on his promise to help Mr. Dinsdale keep the Curioddity Museum in business.

Review:

[I received a copy of this book through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.]

Hard one to rate… I found it full of good ideas, but the pacing threw me off, except after the 70% mark or so, when it really picked up.

The beginning was tricky: slow and “dull”, which was fitting as it perfectly reflected the daily drudgery that is Wil Morgan’s life. So in a way, it was perfectly adequate, even though it made it difficult to get into the story fast. Wil is, simply put, a man who used to dream when he was a child, encouraged by his mother who taught him to look at the world differently; yet after his mother’s death, banality caught up to him, this time with his father’s support, the latter wanting a secure and normal life for his son. Of course, when the mysterious Mr Dinsdale waltzes into Wil’s bleak existence, everything starts to change…

There is no blatant revelation here, or very complex world building with a whole underground, supernatural society and its many rules and denizens. As far as urban fantasy goes, it’s relatively light, with the magical/unexplained side of things more touched upon than delved into. In itself, it’s not bad at all: it has a quaint charm, that also makes it easy to discover all those strange occurrences at the same time the main character does. It’s all about little things, and perhaps they’re not even so extraordinary, just less mundane than we’re used to, and able to become fascinating if we decide to let them do. Crates that move only when you’re not looking at them. Perpetual Motion artefacts. Machines rumoured to have been created by Da Vinci himself. Weird contraptions and items that “do stuff” as long as you don’t worry too much about it. The Museum of Curioddities has a lot of such objects, and every addition contributes to making Wil’s life more and more unusual, little bit by little bit. (Also, the Evil Swiss Clock.)

And even though it seems like nonsense, all of this, this little world, has a logic of its own. Nonsense ends up making as much sense as mundane life—perhaps even more, at times. So what if the villain is pretty wacky, and the light romance kind of predictable in a world full of unpredictability? Well, it doesn’t really matter.

What prevented me from enjoying this book more were mostly:
– The pacing: even after Wil’s life takes a turn for the oddest, it still felt somewhat… dull in places. I guess I had expected more in that regard.
– Although the writing in general is good, I thought there were too many “witty lines” and bizarre metaphors. A couple thrown in from time to time is all right, and fun, but too many will ruin the fun, so to speak. It was enough to pull me out of my reading; it may just be me, though.

Conclusion: apart from those (jarring enough for me, perhaps not for another reader), it was good in terms of whimsical/somewhat nonsensical magical realism.

Yzabel / October 11, 2016

Review: Knights of the Borrowed Dark

Knights of the Borrowed Dark by Dave Rudden

My rating: [rating=3]

Blurb:

Denizen Hardwick is an orphan, and his life is, well, normal. Sure, in storybooks orphans are rescued from drudgery when they discover they are a wizard or a warrior or a prophesied king. But this is real life—orphans are just kids without parents. At least that’s what Denizen thought…

On a particularly dark night, the gates of Crosscaper Orphanage open to a car that almost growls with power. The car and the man in it retrieve Denizen with the promise of introducing him to a long-lost aunt. But on the ride into the city, they are attacked. Denizen soon learns that monsters can grow out of the shadows. And there is an ancient order of knights who keep them at bay. Denizen has a unique connection to these knights, but everything they tell him feels like a half-truth. If Denizen joins the order, is he fulfilling his destiny, or turning his back on everything his family did to keep him alive?

Review:

[I received a copy of this book through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.]

An enjoyable middle-grade novel, even though not the most original ever. Denizen (not the best of names, to be honest) is an orphan, grew up in an orphanage, has never known his parents, and nobody has information about them. But on his 13th birthday, an aunt he was never told about offers to have him home for a few days… and perhaps more?

After this start somewhat common to a lot of books in this category, and somewhat slow as well, things picked up. Denizen is introduced to a new world, and the author isn’t shy of showing that world’s darkness, literally (the Tenebrous) as well as figuratively: the magic has its toll, and is of the kind you need to use scarcely, otherwise it burns its users. Granted, I found the world-building a bit shoddy in places—great concepts, like the Endless King, the Emissary and Os Reges (the latter were beautiful and haunting, in their own twisted, creepy ways), but the Knights seemed to hold little enough information about their own Order and history, which felt odd. I could sense there was much more to develop here, yet was unsure whether it’d be in a next novel in the series, or something that just… wasn’t too thought-out.

In general, the characters were enjoyable. The Knights all had their little quirks, and Grey especially was a character I warmed up to very quickly. Denizen, too, in spite of some childish-pouting moments (he’s 13, after all), was overall a lovable kid. He’s ready to fight for his friends and even for strangers, yet also as savvy enough to obey orders and not get in the way, not too much that is, where I would have expected too stupid to live moments. And when he does “get in the way”, usually it’s because someone’s life is at stake and there’s no other apparent solution, since trying to find help would take too much time. There was one specific moment when his decision felt stupid; this said, it was prompted by wanting to help someone he trusts a lot, so it makes it more… understandable? It wasn’t some silly reason like “wanting to impress the others”, it stemmed from a genuine desire to help.

I hope Simon will be more developed in the next novels, as he seems interesting too but obviously couldn’t be devoted much time to, being at the orphanage and all. Also, I feared some romance with Abigail, but for now she seems to be more the potential friend than potential love interest, and it’d be great if things stayed like that, because I can’t sense much between Denizen and her in terms of “romance chemistry”.

Where this novel fell flat for me, apart from the world building, was in how its characters, albeit sympathetic, weren’t given enough spotlight. Especially the Knights (Darcie, D’Aubigny, Fuller Jack). Getting to know them better would help in making me feel closer, more involved. Finally, some twists were of the expected kind, and not always handled as well as they could have been.

However, in general, it was a good read, that I went through like a breeze. I think that in terms of “fantasy, magic and adventure books for a middle-grade audience”, it will keep its intended readers entertained. 3 stars, going on 3.5.

Yzabel / October 6, 2016

Review: Eight Rivers of Shadow

Eight Rivers of Shadow by Leo Hunt

My rating: [rating=2]

Blurb:

Luke Manchett used to be one of the most popular boys at school.
That was before his necromancer father died and left him a host of vengeful ghosts that wanted him dead.
Now everyone thinks he’s a freak.
To make matters worse, the mysterious new girl at school is actually the daughter of his father’s deadliest enemy…
And she’s out for revenge.

Review:

[I received a copy of this book through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.]

Alas, I didn’t enjoy this second instalment as much as I did the first. It lacked the character dynamics, the spark I had felt at the beginning of this series.

I think the main reason is the way Luke and Elza are rather isolated from the others throughout the novel, even from their parents (who apparently don’t even care what their kids do?). Elza’s family pops in on one page only, Luke’s mother is faring better health-wise but still not very present, Luke’s former friends don’t talk to him anymore… So mostly it revolved around two, maximum three people at a time, and in turn, it shed light on the fact those characters weren’t that much developed. It would have been a great opportunity to do so, and it wasn’t used as such, and I found this too bad.

Another annoying thing was the magic itself: here, too, this book provided huge opportunities of developing it, more specifically of showing Luke growing into it and learning more. However, for the most part, he either didn’t want anything to do with it, or bumbled from one mistake to the other (when he was warned about what mistakes not to make!) while more savvy characters saved the day. Not unexpected, sure, but frustrating no matter what. Or perhaps it is my bias towards necromancy speaking?

On the other hand, the novel shows an actual foray into the land of the dead, which is definitely not unexpected where magic of the necromancy type is concerned! This catabasis was very welcome as far as I’m concerned. And ghosts fighting each other. That’s cool. (I would really have wanted to know more about the Widow!)

Also present in this second book: themes that make you think and difficult choices to make, especially when it comes to helping your loved ones vs. the sacrifices you may have to make. Again, this is about necromancy, not kittens and giggles, right?

Conclusion: Still interesting, only I didn’t feel invested much in the characters, and Luke disappointed me both with his magic and with his borderline stupid decisions.

Yzabel / September 27, 2016

Review: The Screaming Staircase

The Screaming Staircase by Jonathan Stroud

My rating: [rating=2]

Blurb:

When the dead come back to haunt the living, Lockwood & Co. step in . . .

For more than fifty years, the country has been affected by a horrifying epidemic of ghosts. A number of Psychic Investigations Agencies have sprung up to destroy the dangerous apparitions.

Lucy Carlyle, a talented young agent, arrives in London hoping for a notable career. Instead she finds herself joining the smallest, most ramshackle agency in the city, run by the charismatic Anthony Lockwood. When one of their cases goes horribly wrong, Lockwood & Co. have one last chance of redemption. Unfortunately this involves spending the night in one of the most haunted houses in England, and trying to escape alive.

Review:

[I received a copy of this book through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.]

An entertaining book, even though it didn’t blow my mind as I would’ve expected from the author of the “Bartimaeus” series.

In a United Kingdom where the dead tend to come back fairly often as ghosts—whose touch is lethal to the living—agencies have sprung up. Gathering all kinds of young people with the ability to see or hear spectres, under the supervision of adults, these groups patrol cities at nights and investigate various hauntings, in order to send ghosts back to the grave. Lockwood & Co. is one of such agencies. And so, when young agent Lucy Carlyle finds herself looking for employment in London, she applies for a job there… an unusual one even for her line of work, since Lockwood’s doesn’t have any supervisor, and his two other youth are a little on the reckless side. Well, especially Lockwood himself.

This trio of characters follows a typical dynamic (2 boys, 1 girl), with banter and sometimes tense relationships. Lockwood tends to act before thinking, and appears as too easy-go-lucky at times; George is the librarian, the one who remembers they should do their research before investigating; and Lucy, the only one of the three with the ability to hear ghosts and potentially communicate with them, is somewhere in between: more thoughtful at first, yet possessed with instincts that sometimes cause her to make strange decisions. All in all, this dynamic highlighted potential flaws in the team (Lucy didn’t tell them immediately why she went to London, Lockwood doesn’t talk of his family or why there are no adults supervising his agency…) as well as room for growth (learning to trust each other, among other things).

The descriptions of ghosts, places and hauntings are vivid enough, and it’s very easy to picture every happening. They convey an idea of a darker London, whose mists may not only be mere pollution or weather-related, but also announce the coming of ghosts. The story as a whole, a bit like in the Bartimaeus series, has a semi-Victorian feeling: the time is now, yet readers may find themselves forgetting this since the era itself isn’t so important (and the use of rapiers and iron filings could go well in a historical setting). This may or may not be a problem; personally, I quite liked it. The atmosphere throughout the novel, though, wasn’t exactly horrific for me; I’m not sure if I could consider it the right amount of “scary” for a ghost story presented as such.

On the downside:

– The plot felt too disjointed when it came to its two main parts. I’m not sure why exactly, nor what could have made it better, but I got this feeling that the cause-and-effect relationships were forced together, instead of one appearing as logically following the other.
– I could have done without the fat-shaming (towards George). I don’t know if this was supposed to make Lockwood (tall and thin) look better, or Lucy appear superior, but it achieved neither. I really don’t see any point to that.
– I mentioned the characters’ dynamics and room for growth, however by the end of the book I thought this was lacking a bit, and the team didn’t feel like a team as much as I had expected after all the “surviving together” (the fire, the burglary, the Red Room…). The relationship between Lucy, George and Lockwood remained a wee bit… flat?

Conclusion: 2.5 stars. I enjoyed it on the surface, as light reading, but I’m not particularly eager to pick up the second book either.

Yzabel / September 26, 2016

Review: Golem

Golem by Lorenzo Ceccotti

My rating: [rating=2]

Blurb:

Set in a future, post-Eurozone Italy, entrenched in a bizarre form of hyper-capitalism, GOLEM follows a young boy kidnapped during a political protest gone sour, who learns that he has the power to not only change the city, but reality itself. This intensely imaginative political-sci-fi graphic novel is a visual tour de force, created by contemporary design icon Lorenzo Ceccotti, better known as LRNZ, whose design-influenced illustration is a lush, fluid blend of manga masters like KATSUHIRO OTOMO with western comic icons like JOSH MIDDLETON, creating a style that is wholly unique and absolutely breathtaking.

Review:

[I got a copy through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.]

Some pretty good artwork in places, although I expected something more original, especially considering the length of this volume.

The basic idea in itself is, I’d say, typical enough of dystopian stories: country (here, Italy) in the not-too-far future, dominated by an apparent benevolent ruler (president Oudeis) who’s actually a tyrant, with “the masses” living day to day in blissful ignorance, smothered with all the latest technological toys and gizmos they could desire. Also a “terrorist”/”freedom fighters” group, because dystopian stories need that. All in all, terra cognita here, not bad, and not exceptional either.

The world depicted in this comics is interesting, and chilling, too, however it gave a strong Japanese vibe, and this felt a little strange. Lots of Japanese-sounding names (the Yoko brand, the Shorai “terrorist group”), aesthetics that clearly reminded me of quite a few cyberpunk/futuristic manga… Again, not bad per se, yet I couldn’t reconcile this vision with Italy. Not to say I expected stupid clichés here (nope, I didn’t want to see pasta everywhere, that’s just as bad as the French baguette as far as clichés go!), just… something that would’ve felt more European-centric?

The art was pretty good in some parts, though average in others, and most often dynamic: the fights looked and felt like fights, bodies in movement giving an impression of speed. As a work of art, as in painting/drawing, it was definitely interesting to look at.

The characters in general were sympathetic. Not unexpectedly at all, the rebels all have their quirks and cool tech and moves (cooking, hooked on computers, a sort of probabilities-projecting technology allowing them to predict their enemies’ moves by a couple of seconds…). However, I never got a real feeling for them, especially the two kids at the centre of it all.

Conclusion: In general, my impression was that of a story with good foundations, but not told as it would’ve deserved—both too long and too crammed considering its conspiracy aspect. The bland characters didn’t help.

Yzabel / September 23, 2016

Review: Gaslight & Grimm – Steampunk Faerie Tales

Gaslight & Grimm: Steampunk Faerie Tales by Danielle Ackley-McPhail

My rating: [rating=4]

Blurb:

Once Upon a Time, ageless tales were told from one generation to the next, filled with both wonders and warnings. Tales of handsome princes and wicked queens, of good-hearted folk and evil stepmothers. Tales of danger and caution and magic…classics that still echo in our hearts and memories even to this day, told from old, cherished books or from memory at Grandma’s knee.

Oh yes, tales have been told…but never quite like these. Journey with us through the pages of Gaslight and Grimm to discover timeless truths through lenses polished in the age of steam.

With tales by James Chambers, Christine Norris, Bernie Mojzes, Danny Birt, Jean Marie Ward, Jeff Young, Gail Z. and Larry N. Martin, Elaine Corvidae, David Lee Summers, Kelly A. Harmon, Jonah Knight, Diana Bastine, and Jody Lynn Nye.

Review:

[I got a copy through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.]

I found this anthology quite inspiring in general, and it left me with a better impression than anthologies generally do. I appreciated that most stories, while building upon the foundations of original tales, didn’t hesitate to stray from them at some point, instead of being “mere” retellings almost identical to their inspirations. For instance, the one inspired by “Rapunzel”.

The ones I liked best:
– “When Pigs Fly” (original story: The Three Little Pigs): airship and their badass captains, on a backdrop of Alliance vs. Rogues conflict. I was bound to like this one.
– “From the Horse’s Mouth” (The Goose Girl): a gritty retelling, that doesn’t shy away from the grim realities of a country at war.
– “The Giant Killer” (Jack the Giant Killer): with Jack being more of a Jane, with interesting devices and a tendency to get into trouble… but always with a certain style.

Remarks on a couple of other stories:
– “The (Steamy) Tale of Cinderella (Cinderella, obviously): set in a fleet gathered around the princely ship, where the fated ball is to be held. But the Prince isn’t just some charming vapid man, Cinderella is more interested in machines than in snagging a man, and there’s a nice LGBT dimension. I do regret, though, that the latter was presented a little abruptly, out of nowhere—there could have been so much more, instead of the (at first) traditional approach of shaming same-sex relationships. Fortunately Cinderella’s and the Prince’s decision is an interesting one.

– “The Hair Ladder”: I liked the different relationship dynamis between “Rapunzel” and “the witch”. I wasn’t convinced by the mother, however, as she was much too selfish and vain, and felt like a cardboard villain.

But overall, these stories were more 3 to 4 stars each than anything really bad. “The Walking House” (Baba Yaga) is probably my least favourite.

Yzabel / September 21, 2016

Review: A City Dreaming

A City Dreaming by Daniel Polansky

My rating: [rating=4]

Blurb:

M is an ageless drifter with a sharp tongue, few scruples, and the ability to bend reality to his will, ever so slightly. He’s come back to New York City after a long absence, and though he’d much rather spend his days drinking artisanal beer in his favorite local bar, his old friends—and his enemies—have other plans for him. One night M might find himself squaring off against the pirates who cruise the Gowanus Canal; another night sees him at a fashionable uptown charity auction where the waitstaff are all zombies. A subway ride through the inner circles of hell? In M’s world, that’s practically a pleasant diversion.

Before too long, M realizes he’s landed in the middle of a power struggle between Celise, the elegant White Queen of Manhattan, and Abilene, Brooklyn’s hip, free-spirited Red Queen, a rivalry that threatens to make New York go the way of Atlantis. To stop it, M will have to call in every favor, waste every charm, and blow every spell he’s ever acquired—he might even have to get out of bed before noon.

Enter a world of Wall Street wolves, slumming scenesters, desperate artists, drug-induced divinities, pocket steampunk universes, and demonic coffee shops. M’s New York, the infinite nexus of the universe, really is a city that never sleeps—but is always dreaming.

Review:

[I got a copy through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.]

Quite a strange book, in that it didn’t exactly have a plot, more of a collection of “slice of life” moments. Well, moment in the life of a being able to bend reality to his will, or almost, surrounding himself, whether he wants it or not, with other exceptional beings.

After years, decades of wandering around, M is back in New York, where he gets reacquainted with old friends and enemies (not mutually exclusive), gets entangled in the local magic politics, finds himself facing strange worlds and creatures at times, all the while trying to remain “in good terms with the Management”—in other words, balancing feats of magic just right enough to live nicely, without getting much of backlash. And let’s be honest, M’s friends are often worse than his foes, considering the dire straits they take him into.

The New York M evolves in is definitely strange and enchanting in its own ways, mixing daily mundane places and events with happenings out of this world. Immortal mages trying to kill each others, the two Queens of New York trying to get the upper hand each int their own sly ways, revenge and curses, magical underground trains, apprentices coming out of nowhere, traders playing at human sacrifice… There are so, so many odd things in that city, in M’s world in general.

The major problem I see with this novel is the fact it’s a collection of mini-adventures, connected by a loose red thread much more than by any kind of solid plot. M meets some old friend who drags him on a crappy errand, or has to go and trick pirates to free another friend who got kidnapped, or finds himself in an alternate world whose rules may very well trample his own perception of reality… and so on. The blurb was misleading, in that its wording led me to believe there would be more of a plot (there’s no real war between the Queens, for instance, and some of the stories felt repetitive). Instead, the connectors are people and places rather than events leading to other events, and not in the way of a more traditional narrative. Which is an interesting thing or not, depending on how you perceive it.

While I wasn’t too convinced at first, in the end, this technique nevertheless offered glimpses into a magical world, and I found myself wanting to see which new adventure would unfold in every new chapter—not to mention that whenever connectors met, they still gave a sense of things tying together, but just a little, just enough, not as a series of convenient coincidences. (Because -that- can also be a problem, when a plot is too well packed and loose ends are too nicely tied.)

These stories also provide an interesting view on modern life: night scenes, drug addiction, poverty (so many people around you, who won’t see you as you’re being dragged down…), making and losing friends, art and pleasure, unpleasant acquaintances, wealthy lifestyle vs. a more subdued kind of existence, choices to make in the face of adversity, responsibilities, humanity… There’s a strong current of life to this New Work, carrying its people just as much as its people carry it, and the author pictures it funny, dark and loving tones all at once.

Conclusion: I can’t say I absolutely loved this book, however it contains a lot of imaginative elements, and the New York, the City with a capital C described in it, was such a vivid backdrop that it may just as well be called a character as well. 3.5 stars, going on 4.

Yzabel / September 12, 2016

Review: Smoke

Smoke by Dan Vyleta

My rating: [rating=1]

Blurb:

England. A century ago, give or take a few years.

An England where people who are wicked in thought or deed are marked by the Smoke that pours forth from their bodies, a sign of their fallen state. The aristocracy do not smoke, proof of their virtue and right to rule, while the lower classes are drenched in sin and soot. An England utterly strange and utterly real.

An elite boarding school where the sons of the wealthy are groomed to take power as their birthright. Teachers with mysterious ties to warring political factions at the highest levels of government. Three young people who learn everything they’ve been taught is a lie – knowledge that could cost them their lives. A grand estate where secrets lurk in attic rooms and hidden laboratories. A love triangle. A desperate chase. Revolutionaries and secret police. Religious fanatics and coldhearted scientists. Murder. A London filled with danger and wonder. A tortured relationship between a mother and a daughter, and a mother and a son. Unexpected villains and unexpected heroes. Cool reason versus passion. Rich versus poor. Right versus wrong, though which is which isn’t clear.

Review:

(I got a copy through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.)

I really liked the premise: sin and violent emotions taking on shape and scent, through a strange smoke people let escape in spite of themselves, in an alternate Victorian setting where, much like in real Victorian England, the “lower classes” are considered as sinful, while the “upper classes” are supposed to be their betters—and what’s best here than -not- displaying the dreadful Smoke, right? However, ultimately I couldn’t care about the story at all, nor about the characters. I partly blame this on the rhythm, and partly on the choice of narrative tense and voices.

The first chapters, albeit a little slow, had the kind of atmosphere I hoped the whole novel would carry throughout, involving a private boarding school, creepy students, and masters entrenched within their stinky moral rectitude. Lovely, isn’t it? There is so much one can do with such a setting (can you tell I like boarding school settings?). There was so much promise to the strained relationship between Julius, the apparently perfect, almost angelic student who submits others to his own rule on top of the teachers’, a monster in elegant disguise, and Thomas, a murderer’s son, openly convinced that he’s a monster and will end up like his father.

Alas, after that, or more specifically about the part where the boys go visit London, things went downhill.

I can definitely say the narrative style didn’t convince me: a blend of a first and third person, but also of present and past tense. Unfortunately, first POV present is difficult to properly achieve, and third POV present is even more difficult… and it just didn’t work here, bringing a constant jarring note to the story. I spent more time being bothered about the tense shifts and sometimes confusing points of view, than really paying attention to what I was reading. Not to mention that some of those narrators weren’t so useful, being brought in for one scene, then never again—in other words, I never got to get a feeling for these characters, not enough to care about what happened to them. This extended to the actual main characters, who could have had an interesting dynamics as a twisted love triangle, united in sin and darkness as they were uncovering a plot that may or may not destroy England as they knew it.

Another really bothering thing was how the Smoke was everywhere, permeating every stratum of society, at the heart of the mystery… yet in the end, there was no clue as to -why- exactly it existed, what brought it out of humans. Something supernatural? Something physiological? Nada. And since there’s no indication whatsoever that there’ll be a second volume, for now it looks like we’ll never know. (Also, because the origins of Smoke, its nature, are involved in the plot our three “heroes” unveil, the absence of revelation and information is all the more annoying.)

It took me weeks to finish this novel, and to be honest, had I not felt like I owned a review for NetGalley, I’d have DNFed it.

Yzabel / September 7, 2016

Review: Unf*ck Your Habitat

Unf*ck Your Habitat: You’re Better Than Your Mess by Rachel Hoffman

My rating: [rating=3]

Blurb:

Finally, a housekeeping and organizational system developed for those of us who’d describe our current living situation as a “f*cking mess” that we’re desperate to fix. Unf*ck Your Habitat is for anyone who has been left behind by traditional aspirational systems. The ones that ignore single people with full-time jobs; people without kids but living with roommates; and people with mental illnesses or physical limitations. Most organizational books are aimed at traditional homemakers, DIYers, and people who seem to have unimaginable amounts of free time. They assume we all iron our sheets, have linen napkins to match our table runners, and can keep plants alive for longer than a week. Basically, they ignore most of us living here in the real world.

Interspersed with lists and challenges, this practical, no-nonsense advice relies on a 20/10 system (20 minutes of cleaning followed by a 10-minute break; no marathon cleaning allowed) to help you develop lifelong habits. It motivates you to embrace a new lifestyle in manageable sections so you can actually start applying the tactics as you progress. For everyone stuck between The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up and Adulting, this philosophy is decidedly more realistic than aspirational, but the goal is the same: not everyone will have a showcase of a home, but whatever your habitat, you deserve for it to bring you happiness, not stress.

Review:

(I got a copy through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.)

Not exactly what I expected, but a definitely interesting book full of advice about how to keep your place clean (or how to take it from a “very messy” level to a “manageable” one).

I definitely appreciated the author’s light tone, and the fact that she acknowledges how different we all are, and therefore how different our circumstances as well. Looking at some “household” blogs and magazines, it’s so true that we’re shown perfect homes, without any clutter… yet when you have a full-time job, and children to boot… or when you’re disabled and cannot move like you’d like to… all these “perfect places” are more guilt-inducing than anything else. And there are so many other reasons why house chores aren’t or can’t be a priority for so many people. It’s difficult to care about your place all day long when you have to study for your exams, or are suffering from chronic pain—but this doesn’t make you less of a person.

This book helps by listing various tips and tricks, along with advice for basically everybody involved, whether that person is the one in need of decluttering their place, or the one who’s been asked for help. It tells you how it’s totally OK not to go on cleaning marathons, which are exhausting and can even leave you kind of disgusted (and not feeling like doing anything for some time, leading to more mess and to another marathon later). Besides, it also provides examples of what you can use to clean, ideas to start organising short cleaning sessions (start from the top, wash the floor last…)… Basically, if you don’t know where to start, it takes you by the hand.

As far as I’m concerned, though, I feel that the book may be more helpful to someone who really has to deal with a lot of mess, and not so helpful to someone who’s on the fence, a bit like me: I dislike housework, I’m lazy as hell, but my laziness also makes me instinctively clean after myself in order to avoid generating a lot of mess… so basically I was already applying a lot of the principles here, which fall into the realm of “common sense” for me. Well, I guess it’s still good to feel validated, so it’s not such a downside! Possibly I was just expecting something else, something that’d be more directly useful to me specifically?

Conclusion: Depending on how badly you’re struggling with keeping your place OK, this book can provide a pretty good starting point. Perfect homes are overrated anyway. 3.5 stars.

Yzabel / August 22, 2016

Review: The Vengeful Half

The Vengeful Half by Jaclyn Dolamore

My rating: [rating=1]

Blurb:

Olivia might look human, but she’s grown up with a heavy secret: her mother is a potion-maker from a parallel world, the Hidden Lands.

Alfred is the blind, charismatic young heir to the illegal potions trade. When Mom is kidnapped by the magic dealers with whom she once made a bad bargain, Olivia has no choice but to trust Alfred’s offer of help. They travel to a strange new world of bootlegged American pop culture, lifelike doll people, and reincarnation. Alfred finds himself putting his position on the line to defend Olivia against his family’s conniving plans. Maybe he has morals…or maybe he’s just falling in love.

When Olivia escapes from an attack by a curiously familiar sorceress, she learns that potion dealers weren’t the only thing Mom was hiding from. Dark secrets lurk in Olivia’s past, and now Olivia must kill or be killed by the girl with whom she once shared everything…

Review:

(I got a copy through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.)

This is one of those overdue reviews, since I’ve had this book on my tablet for quite a while. I remember requesting it partly because of its cover (the paperback one — by comparison, the Kindle cover on Amazon is pretty bland), which seemed quite ominous to me. What can I say, I’m weak when faced with a certain type of cover.

The plot was intriguing, for sure. A hidden world full of family secrets, alliances to be had, strange magic (the doll people and the potions), ancient feuds, revelations aplenty, and a hidden enemy who’s been bidding her time and is now bent on getting what she wants: possibly revenge… or something else? There’s almost too much going on at times. At first I thought it would be more a quest-like story, with Olivia going after her mother and braving danger to save her. It didn’t turn out like that, but that was alright, the kind of plot and intrigue it led to was pretty fine with me as well.

The characters: we have that girl, Olivia, who knows she’s from another world/civilisation, without having been brought up in it, which leaves room for showing this land to the reader, without necessarily having to explain *all* of it, since Olivia already knows part of it and we can dispense with. We have Alfred, rich heir and future boss to a crime family, who’s blind almost since birth and goes his way without whining about this—he’s used to it, he has trouble with some things but has found ways to cope. Alfred also has to constantly remind other people that he can do, not everything but a lot of things: a conundrum close, I think, to quite a few double standards going around disabled people (pitied and treated like children almost, or blamed for “not making enough efforts” by many, instead of being considered as human beings first and foremost…). There’s also Thessia, Alfred’s fiancée, who could have been a nasty bitch and/or a jealous whiner, especially since she fits the too-beautiful-to-be-true girl, and turns out to be an idealist, an activist, and, well, a fairly decent person to be around, even though she has her downside (Atlantean rich society seems to be hell-bent on having its girls marry rich heirs, and gods forbid they want to have a career of their own…).

So, all in all, a lot of interesting things here. Unfortunately, a lot more annoyed me, causing me not to enjoy this story in the end.

From the start, something kept nagging at me, and it took me a while to put my finger on it. At some point, the author mentioned when the story originated (more about that later), back when she was still a child or teenager; I think this was what I “felt” about it, for having gone myself through the same conundrum of taking a story I first created when I was 12 or so, and trying to trim it and make it something worth reading. This was something I found extremely hard to do, because what we perceive as wonderful plot twists and concepts when we’re younger aren’t necessarily good things to leave as is… yet “upgrading” them is easier said than done. And so, I had that strange feeling that I was reading something I might have written when I was younger, and my reaction to it was a little similar. It’s hard to explain. I could sum it up with “this feels like a very early work, and it needs more editing.”

Another thing that bothered me, when it comes to this theme of parallel/hidden worlds, is how close to ours the latter was, when a parallel world could pave the way to so many other things. Let me develop a bit more by giving a personal example: I grew up in France, with a lot of dubbed TV shows originating from the USA, and at the time I had that fascination for the USA. If I wrote a story, I set it in some imaginary US town. Not my home country, no, it wasn’t “good enough”: it had to be like the USA, feel like the USA, whatever. Obviously it didn’t occur to me at the time that Stephen King, for instance, set his stories in his country because that’s what he knew, and that I was under the impression everything was better there only because I hadn’t been exposed to shows from other countries. (Bear with me, I was 12-something.) And somehow, the way Atlantis people lived reminded me of this: their world felt like it hadn’t been so much evolving as trying to mimic Earth’s, and more specifically, well, you guess it. “Everything’s better if it looks like our world.” Kind of like being promised a walk in quaint little streets with exotic market stalls, and finding yourself in a mall instead—Atlanteans driving Ferraris didn’t exactly impress me. I’d stand with Olivia on that one, who was expecting a high fantasy world at first and found a place with chocolate and soda cans instead.

(To be fair, though, all this might still hold more appeal to a teenage audience than it did to me: I also remember thinking “those are plot devices/themes I would’ve used myself, since I loved them, when I was in my teens.” I had that thing going for telepathy and psychic powers in general, and parallel worlds, and “aliens/people with powers coming from those worlds to live hidden on Earth”. I seriously doubt I was the only one.)

Third annoying bit: the somewhat sexist, somewhat dismissive way a few characters tended to act. Alfred disappointed me towards the end when it came to Thessia (pretty assholish move to make if you ask me, and then she’s left to go away with the equivalent of “kthxbye see ya later, ah women, they always need some time to calm down huh”). Or what I mentioned above regarding heiresses only good enough to marry—any female character with a position/job of her own seemed to be either a villain or a reject/castaway/fugitive, as if no “proper woman” could hold her own. Although was pointed as backwards thinking, I felt a dichotomy, a certain hypocrisy in how it was mentioned, yet the people mentioning it still kept buying into the patriarchal model nonetheless.

Fourth: so many tropes. So, so many. You’ve got it all: pretty boy with a beautiful fiancée against which the main character feels so plain (but still becomes a love interest fairly quickly); people who were supposed to be dead but aren’t; telepathy/psychic powers being used and thrown in in vague descriptions, solving things a little too easily at times; mandatory love triangle; elite school in which talking to The Wrong Person will turn you into a black sheep, instantly, just add water. It felt like a soap opera at times, and since I’m not particularly keen on those, it didn’t help.

On the fence: the drawings, comic strips and short inserts. I didn’t care about the style, but I can certainly understand the appeal, and who would fault an author for including those and being enthusiastic about it? Not me! However, I think they disrupted the flow of the story in some cases, either by revealing too much about the characters at that specific point or by just being there in the middle (did we really need pictures of the various soda brands?). More annoying though were the written inserts: in between two chapters, we get a bit (twice!) about how the story was born. Not uninteresting, yet… this could and should be put at the end, otherwise it’s either disruptive or meant to be skipped, which would defeat the whole point.

Conclusion: could’ve been for me, but… nope, sorry.