Love doesn't die, people do.
Paraphrasing Coppola's Dracula movie tag line apparently.
Well, all righty then.

So, why is there a lighthouse at the edge of the world or, more specifically, at the edge of Chicago? Why, to guide the souls to the afterlife, of course. Naturally. The plot of this novel borrows very, very heavily from the TV show Kaos, but then puts its own, trendily sapphic spin on it.

The Juliet and Juliet romance involves two young women from very different worlds. Nera was raised among the dead, while Charlie is very much alive, although terribly unhappy and grieving her dead sister.  And then Charlie realizes that perhaps she doesn't have to grieve as she can just find her sister again in the land of the dead and bring her back, and who better to help her than the woman whose father is in charge of the entire place.
But then sparks between Charlie and Nera begin to fly - very, very slowly, one might add - and it complicates everything, as sparks inevitably do.

Is this a romantasy? It seems like one. A genre I intensely detest in concept and wanted to check out in execution. To my surprise, it wasn't actually terrible. The author did a lot of interesting things with her world building, so that it works both a unique depiction of an afterlife and a love letter to Chicago.
There are a lot of fun, interesting side characters of two- and four-legged variety. And also an interesting exploration of duty and free will.
But the romance, which takes up the bulk of the novel, is very emotionally young and sort of twee. Or at the very least, overwrought and overwritten. 
So it's a bit of a mixed bag, but a surprisingly readable one at that, even for someone who doesn't care for the genre. Presumably genre fans will go wild for it. Thanks Netgalley.

This was meant to be a sort of mindless, fun read from the author who specializes in such things. Well, he also specializes in a particular cutesy quaintness, and here it seems to be the prevalent thing.

The plot revolves around the titular odd couple: a woman who thinks the end of the world is coming and a man who doesn't care about such things. (What he does care about is preparing a good meal.) Their paths cross, and they end of a road trip together, during the course of which ...you guessed it ... they will bring out the best in each other: he will teach her to enjoy life, and she will teach him that he isn't the idiot his brother has always told him he was.

Which brings us to the next question: how did the ever-vigilant PC police let this one slip? I thought idiot was an entirely uncouth and rather offensive way to describe someone like the protagonist of this novel, who mostly just seems sheltered and on the spectrum. Nevertheless, the author has great many jokes at his expense ... although the character is much too good-natured to notice or care.

The main thing, though, is that the jokes aren't that funny.  They almost strategically have no edge to them, so that's it's some kind of a gee-haw of the blandest variety. 
I think this is just what happens when the book's goal is quaintness. 
The author tries to do more with it, but introducing a convoluted intrigue of global politics, but it's uneven at best. (If you want good and funny political satire, give Christopher Buckley a story.)

Also, George and Amal Clooney got married in 2014. Do you research, authors and publishers. These are easy things to look up.

So, in the end it's a rambling, mildly amusing at best, and much too long (although it reads rather quickly) book.  User mileage may, of course, vary, as it does with any road trip. Thanks Netgalley.

​The news getting to you? Social media got you addicted and spinning out?
Well, amplify that a thousandfold, and you'll get the plot for Chapman's new novel in which he destroys the country with an apocalypse straight out of the headlines.
It's timely - Chapman is clever enough to incorporate current sociopolitical trends and sharpen their claws to draw blood.
It's dynamic - Chapman's trademark choppy style makes for a very immediate, in-your-face sort of narrative, which makes nearly 400 pages go by rather quickly.
But is it good? Well, that's where opinions will likely vary. 
For me, there were too many snags that prevented the overall rating from climbing higher. 
1. For all its heavy-handed messaging, the novel can't seem to decide what exactly it wants to say. This is especially noticeable in the end, which I found rather disappointing. 
It seems that despite taking an apparently strong position, in the end Chapman decides to strike for some kind of balance, and I'm not sure it works. Between the self-righteous conservatives and the self-hating liberals, it's difficult to say where, if anywhere, his sympathies lie, or what exactly he's trying to say.
2. The book is gross. It just is. And I know a lot of horror fans are into that sort of thing, and they will probably love it, but I found it distracting at best and off-putting at most. Sure, some guts and gore are inevitable in an apocalypse, but Chapman seems to revel in it, going for the amounts that can be best described as gratuitous.
3. Chapman's trademark dynamics can often come across as gimmicky. The unnecessarily chopped up sentences, the repetitions, the same phrase repeated over 5 kindle pages. It's a neat trick to bulk up the book - his novels always have the lowest word to page ratio.

Overall, it's an interesting read. It's striking and conceptually compelling. It's partisan and has a ballsy quality of trying to piss certain kinds of people off. It nails a lot of the psychological aspects of spiraling into abyss very nicely. It reads quickly. For that alone, it's better than a lot of formulaic genre books out there. And above all, it'll certainly keep you awake!

​The world loves Rachel Kushner's work. Well, the world of critics, anyway, because her books don't exactly get stellar ratings on GR. Yet, they consistently make it on all the "best of the year" lists, get nominated for awards, etc. A curious disconnect.
I read her also hugely acclaimed Flamethrowers some years back and didn't much like it at all. Still, I was curious to see what this Booker-nominated one was all about. Plus, it dealt with a cult-commune situation, which I usually enjoy.
And yet, Kushner is still Kushner. I've just revisited my review of Flamethrowers and realized just how much of what I said about that book can be applied here.  With the main point being, and I quote myself here: So very unengaging. So very dramatically overhyped.
There's no question that Kushner is a talented writer (which explains my rounded-up rating), but she writes at a distance, in dense dispassionate prose that tells but seldom shows.
The protagonist here, much as in Flamethrowers, is someone you never really get to know or come to care about. She's presumably edgy because she drinks too much, sleeps with the wrong men, and uses people. But that's about all you can say for her.
There are some nice descriptions of scenery and a TON of discourse on the Neanderthals which the cult/commune leader is obsessed with. And there's presumably some suspense there as to whether this group of people may be dangerous, but it's too buried under all the (over) narration.
It's easy to see how this book is a critical darling, but I didn't care for it. And after two dud-ish, will likely stay away from Kusher's writing altogether.

I'm a huge fan of dystopias and post-apocalyptic fiction, which is what drew me to this book. 
Fun fact: it was inspired in part by a personal favorite, Alan Weisman's brilliant The World Without Us.
That one was nonfiction that had the dynamics and engagement of a fictional narrative. 
The Afterlife Project was the opposite. 
The density of Weed's narrative, the near total absence of dialogue, the propensity for overwhelming panoramas made for a rather solid but also stolid at times read. Frustratingly so, because it's a very well written and intricately plotted novel of the depressingly plausible future.
Weed's descriptions are stunning - there are just so many of them. The characters spend so much time being nothing but cursors, it seems, moving through the barren topography of a bygone world. 
They do have plotlines to follow and an emotional connection that plays out in the end, but it seems very minor, compared to ... well, all of the afterlife.
If you like a description-heavy, slow, meditative end of the world, this will definitely do the trick.
Personally, I appreciated this novel on an intellectual level much more than I engaged with it on an emotional one. But this is likely the sort of thing where user mileage will vary.
Thanks Netgalley.

​There's a blandness to the title that doesn't do this book justice. But I wanted to read it based on the strength of the author's other work, and it did not disappoint. 
despite some genre cliches, including women in peril, alternating timelines, etc., the novel features a strikingly original take on a traditional ghost story. Weaving together myth and history, it tells the tale of a fate so tragic, so devastating, so horrific ... that it continues to echo through time.
It took me until 80% to figure out the plot, which is likely too long, given the clues along the way. I blame it on the writing - it was so brilliantly vivid, so wonderfully descriptive without ever veering into overwritten, so immersive, that it completely swept me along, shutting off the detective side of the brain.
And even after ai figured out what was going on, I still couldn't wait to get back to the book and finish it to see if the author gave her characters the ending, they deserved. She did!
Very good read. Hauntingly good, I'd say. Recommended. Thanks Netgalley.

This book has been brought to you by #MeToo, (The Final) Girl power, and a number of other thriller genre cliches.
So why did I read it? Well, I'm a sucker for books about movies and a fan of slashers movies. Why specifically slasher movies? Because as this book can amply attest to, slashers work better on screen.
Does that mean this book was a dud?
Well, no, not exactly, but it did get more and more trite and obnoxiously overexplained as it went on. The movie slashers usually have the decency to wrap up under 120 minutes or so.
Also, they are usually more fun. And, as the case may be with all the Scream movies, infinitely cleverer.

This book didn't quite hit those marks, but the genre seems to thrive on mediocrities, so it'll fit right in. 
This is a story of Ella, a washed-up actress pushing forty, who gets a second chance at stardom when she is invited to the twenty-year reunion of the slasher flick that put her on the map. And also, the one that led her to eventually quit the business.
Why? Because something went wrong during the shoot, though the author really takes her time revealing what that something may be. I think the idea there is to pump up the suspense, but it veers into roll-your-eyes silliness instead.
So in the genre-standard alternating timelines of then and now, interspersed with the original movie script, the reader gets to slowly find out what happened, who died and why and how, etc.

This is the kind of book that makes up by easily digestible readability what it doesn't have in depth or originality. It's fine, it's entertaining, it passes the time, but it doesn't even try to say anything interesting or new.
Just about all the male characters are evil. Most of the female characters are virtuous. The past reveal is hugely underwhelming. The present reveal is overwrought to the point of convolution. But it's an easy, mindless read of more-of-the-same variety that is sure to find its audience.
Thanks Netgalley.

​For me, a new Dan Chaon book is always an event. I requested this one on Netgalley the moment I saw it, without even knowing what it was about. That it is about a circus (one of my favorite subjects) was the perfectly juicy cherry on top.

Chaon is a terrific writer, whatever genre he chooses. Not that I would put a genre on this book. It's something like dark literary fantastic, and it is very much all those three things.
The plot revolves around a pair of young twins who end up orphaned and sold to man named Jengling (not Ring-ling any bells?) who operates a wonderfully esoteric circus. This is 1915, when some things were done.
The boy twin takes to it like fish to water, his strong-willed sister doesn't. And then there is the matter of their self-appointed uncle, a psychopathic killer, who is after them, trying to take them back.

This is a genuine circus of a novel in the best possible way - colorful characters, fun, and magic in the air. It's a wonderful show you won't want to miss.
Full disclosure: I didn't love the ending all the way. I think I wanted more for the main characters. But it had a beautiful poignancy that i appreciated and was well suited to the book, which was in every way a great read. Recommended. Thanks Netgalley.

Ravening is rambling. It goes on for longer than it ought to, presumably to fit the Angry Robot 400-page limit. But at least the author knows what he's doing. Or rather, he knows how to write, so that this story of DNA gone wrong moves along at a nice clip and entertains throughout.

The protagonist of the novel is Jenna (somewhat overbaked) tough as nails, emotionally unavailable, bisexual, androgenous, sarcastically humorous Muay Thai practitioner who seems like something autogenerated based on a "what sells now" query. 
Jenna is psychologically scarred after witnessing her mother disappear in a rather unsettling matter right in front of her and therefore spends the next fifteen years keeping everyone at arm's length. Until she meets a woman of her dreams.

Tragically, this occurs at the same time as Jenna finding out she's pregnant and, more importantly, that people are really, REALLY interested in her babies.
Thus begins a complex chase of Jenna by multiple villains, across different setting, all after her precious eggs. What's so precious about them? You'll have to read to find out.

The story has a backstory, arguably its best part - it's creative and goes back all the way to Knights Templar.

Anyway, that's basically the novel - people are chasing after Jenna, trying to get her to make them babies. it's a bit drawn out, with dream sequences and all, and a bit too over reliant on action scenes for my liking, but whatever I may have detracted for that was balanced out by adding on for the rather courageous representation of a woman who just doesn't want to have kids.

Yey. Go, Jenna! In this day and age, such a sentiment is downright revolutionary. That one should dare to defy the norms and not wish to breed, breed, breed, and dedicate their entire life to producing and raising offspring ... wow, brazen!
Thanks Netgalley.
The Ravening
by Daniel Church


Bandit's reviewFeb 25, 2025  ·  edit


really liked it

Ravening is rambling. It goes on for longer than it ought to, presumably to fit the Angry Robot 400-page limit. But at least the author knows what he's doing. Or rather, he knows how to write, so that this story of DNA gone wrong moves along at a nice clip and entertains throughout.

The protagonist of the novel is Jenna (somewhat overbaked) tough as nails, emotionally unavailable, bisexual, androgenous, sarcastically humorous Muay Thai practitioner who seems like something autogenerated based on a "what sells now" query.
Jenna is psychologically scarred after witnessing her mother disappear in a rather unsettling matter right in front of her and therefore spends the next fifteen years keeping everyone at arm's length. Until she meets a woman of her dreams.

Tragically, this occurs at the same time as Jenna finding out she's pregnant and, more importantly, that people are really, REALLY interested in her babies.
Thus begins a complex chase of Jenna by multiple villains, across different setting, all after her precious eggs. What's so precious about them? You'll have to read to find out.

The story has a backstory, arguably its best part - it's creative and goes back all the way to Knights Templar.

Anyway, that's basically the novel - people are chasing after Jenna, trying to get her to make them babies. it's a bit drawn out, with dream sequences and all, and a bit too over reliant on action scenes for my liking, but whatever I may have detracted for that was balanced out by adding on for the rather courageous representation of a woman who just doesn't want to have kids.

Yey. Go, Jenna! In this day and age, such a sentiment is downright revolutionary. That one should dare to defy the norms and not wish to breed, breed, breed, and dedicate their entire life to producing and raising offspring ... wow, brazen!
Thanks Netgalley.

I don't much care for Westerns, but I was excited to read this book. Rountree's previous one was rather wonderful. Oddly enough, I had forgotten the plot of it completely, only that I really enjoyed it. I wish I remembered more of it, because these two books, while standalone, are connected and, moreover, set in the same world. The world of Weird Western. Which, so long as Rountree writes it, I'll be delighted to visit.

I described The Legend of Charlie Fish in my review as "Western Shape of Water." Well, this tale is a "western Frankenstein." It follows a sort-of-grieving, sort-of-widow, as she looks for the husband she had (perhaps in error) resurrected.  She finds him in the circus, performing under the titular name. But of course, killing the unkillable isn't without its challenges.

While the book tended to veer ever so often into the dreamy witch fantasy territory, it was ever so much fun to read. Great language, evocative of the time. Terrific characters. I very much enjoyed it. Recommended. Thanks Netgalley.