Steve Wheeler--retired cop and widower, now small-town private investigator--likes his routines. He locates lost cats, joins his pub quiz team on Wednesdays, talks to his late wife via dictaphone on her memorial bench at the local park, and sometimes texts his daughter-in-law (estranged son's wife) non-sequiturs. Said daughter-in-law, Amy, is an extremely proficient bodyguard-for-hire currently assigned to guard prolific thriller writer Rosie D'Antonio on Rosie's private island, as she's been getting death threats from a Russian oligarch. Unbeknownst to Amy, she's being used as the patsy in a money smuggling-murder scheme, and the puppetmasters are now trying to tie up the loose ends by having her murdered. Reluctantly, Amy embarks on a globe-trotting adventure to solve the mystery and clear her name, with two octogenarians--her curmudgeonly father-in-law for his investigative acumen and blithe spirit Rosie for her deep pockets.
Same author as Thursday Murder Club; though i haven't read them yet, i have heard of them, so I decided to take a chance on this one. Tone-wise it's something akin to a mystery version of Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: it's breezy, sarcastic, and very fun. It's both a strength of the story because it goes by very fast. But it's also something that prevents it from getting any deeper in substance. The characters don't really struggle or gain any deep development, and because so much of the dialogue is quippy, there's a certain emotional detachment that prevented me from getting attached to the characters. I liked them all right, but they felt like devices rather than people. It's possible that was intentional: a lot of the POV characters use humor to deflect because they're admittedly uncomfortable with emotion. But what could have had emotional weight--like, say, the scenes between the estranged father and son--were just awkward and glossed over.
Overall, I'm not sure if this was the best representation of the author's work given the hype around Thursday Murder Club. Like I said, it's a fun read, but the mystery, despite the death count, didn't feel very imminent or thrilling. Who the killer ends up being also felt out of left field for me. We spend a lot of time with red herrings and when the actual killer characters appear, there was a lack of foreshadowing or "ah ha" clue moments that you can look back on in hindsight. I'm sure I'll check out TMC at the library soon.
Jolie has never been the same since her mental episode at a swim meet, ostracized by her friends. And with her grandfather, once a respected fortune teller (thay boi), having his reputation crippled with what seems to be early onset dementia, she's never been more alone. Then popular transfer student Huong takes an interest in her and brings her into the popular crowd. But it's not long before Huong reveals their true connection: that they are the reincarnations of the Trung sisters, the original warrior queens of ancient Vietnam, imbued with god-like powers.
This was a pretty fun reincarnation fantasy take on ancient Vietnamese history, which I haven't read too much of. I believe the Trung sisters are historical figures, so I think knowing the history would have added to the experience, though the book does a pretty good job in painting the folklore version of their story which is all that is needed to understand the book. Because it's YA, some of the high school drama can get a little frustrating because it seems so petty to the epic dragon fight, but I did end up appreciating how it frames the sisterly rivalry. My one critique might be that the final fight felt a little disorganized. I had a hard time keeping track of what was actually happening, and I think it's because the rules of their magic seemed amorphous without many rules. Overall it was an engaging read, and I'm interested in reading the second book to see how it ends.
Romeria Watts, a thief-street urchin, thanks to her parents having abandoned her due to going inexplicably crazy, is recruited by a mysterious woman, Sophie, to steal an artifact that will revive Sopie's husband. Only, the object is in another realm, full of magic users called elementals, lorded over by vampire kings and elves, and oh yeah, Romy has to die in order to get there. Whoops.
Thus Romy finds herself transmigrated into the body of a Princess Romeria, who up until Romy awoke, was in the process of sabotaging her own wedding day by poisoning the King and Queen of Islor, her would-be husband's parents. With her fiancee now king Zander ready to kill her for retribution and Romy quickly realizing that she's not in Kansas anymore, and in fact is way in over her head thanks to the political coup she was unceremoniously dropped into, has to pretend to be the Princess whose body she now occupies, convince her fiancee that she is innocent and figure out how the hell to steal the item for Sophie.
It's funny because lately I've been getting into Webtoon and all the isekai/reincarnation romances I can handle. This story is basically that, with a lot of world-building and political intrigue (and a touch spice) thrown in. At 500 pages, it's a hefty romantasy, but unlike say Fourth Wing, I think it justifies the real estate a bit more, spending more time on the world-building and the political background of Islor. There's also quite a bit going on in here since it's simultaneously an isekai, identity confusion, vampires, elves, elemental magic, civil wars--more tropes than you can shake a stick at. It did feel a tad overwhelming at times, but like I said, there was some conscious effort to flesh out this world and the various magic and political systems to tell the story.
But maybe because of that, the last quarter of the book starts to feel like a slog. I suppose it's when the relationship between Zander and Romy finally hits its peak (heh), but it takes a while to get there for sure and I think I was more intrigued by the political plot so much more that when Romy finally gets freedom to move around to uncover some stuff herself, it seems like she didn't take advantage of it enough. I do appreciate that Romy did feel like a realistic "fish-out-of-water" type character, despite being blessed with basically every Sue power in this universe. She makes what she thinks are good enough choices given her desperate situation and a couple of them blow up in her face big time, nicely raising the stakes. But I wish it got balanced out a bit earlier with her chosen maiden status a bit -- maybe she could've found out the truth of her mission earlier?
As far as romatasy fare goes, it's very readable but kind of an investment. On the fence on whether I want to explore book 2, but can definitely see myself getting to it at some point.
Now a major motion picture! I actually committed the cardinal sin of readers by watching the movie first, but then my screening gave us copies of the book on our way out, so we got there eventually. Spoilers for the book + movie abound.
While technically characterized as a historical fiction, I see this book more as a melodrama, and I do not mean that as a pejorative. There are two major halves of his book: the first when Hamnet contracts the disease and dies, the second after his death and the way his family tries to move on. There's not much in the way of the plot, otherwise.
It is, however, extremely dreamy and evocative writing. If the characters are allegories for those that exist in the play, then Agnes (possibly better known as Ann Hathaway) is likely Ophelia, with her almost wiccan knowledge of natural remedies and hints of precognition. As our POV character, the atmosphere and tragedy are felt because it's how she's experiencing it. As the mother and caregiver, this is her story, not the story of her unnamed husband, despite there being a healthy heaping of hints that rely on the cultural capital so the reader can say, "ah, yes, William Shakespeare," the sharp resistance to give him his name as if to resist giving him the same importance that he's already predisposed to receive in modern western literature.
And since I did see the movie first, I was making constant note of the differences in the adaptation. For example, the film tells the story in a linear manner, whereas the first half of the book jumps back and forth in time, not hitting the linear stride until the second half, as though that's where the story actually begins. Hamnet's death also felt much more pronounced as a choice, with several scenes (superbly acted by Jacobi Jupe) showing his consciousness over his actions, where Hamnet's actions feels less meditated, more desperate. Definitely some interesting choices that I wish Chloe Zhao had been around to explain (instead of calling out for illness) but I do think the film did a good job at replicating the lushness of the prose and the devastating emotion of the book.
Finally got around to reading this! I know that Collins tends to write when there's something to say, and given the state of the country, it obviously feels topical. But I think I'll just focus my thoughts on my impressions as a fan of the series.
Generally, I enjoyed the structure of Before the Games, the Games, and the Victory Tour. I like that we spent so much time getting to know the other tributes and the Newcomers Alliance, because I really liked all the new characters, and frankly, the Games only have meaning as a narrative device if we care, if it feels like a tragedy. Maysilee Donner was my favorite, but I also felt surprised by how attached I got to Wyatt given how comparatively little focus he gets. I also liked the subplot with the nascent rebellion attempt. It makes sense that it fails, it makes sense why they try to make Haymitch their proto-mockingjay since he's supposed to be a dead man walking. The only contrive coincidence I thought was the token Haymitch happens to take off the dead tributes, especially Maysilee. If it weren't for this subplot, I honestly would've thought the titular Games section was way too long since we more or less know what happens in a Hunger Games.
I think the part I liked the least was the Victory Tour section, mostly because of how insubstantial it felt other than to showcase the Capital's cruelty, and we already got that. I would have preferred an expansion on the growth of the rebellion over the years and Haymitch's involvement with the other tributes we meet in Catching Fire, especially since Snow got his moment. Give us a grain of hope in the face of fascism, Collins!
My other major complaint was that this was essentially Collins' songfic. Her prose is strong enough to stand on its own without a full recitation of The Raven. Really wish she had chosen to allude to the poem instead of quoting it so often and so much. Same with the songs that she takes from the films. I'm also a fan of those, but it felt off. Like I know she can tell me the story better than that.
Jessamyn Teoh, unemployed Harvard graduate and deeply in the closet from her parents even as she and her girlfriend are struggling to make a long distance relationship work, follows her parents, who suffered from the slow crumbling of their own American dream and her father's bout of cancer, as they move back to their extended family in Malaysia. It's at this crossroads, literally and figuratively, that she wakes up to hearing her late maternal grandmother's voice in her head. But despite the fact that she might be teetering on depression, she's not crazy. She's possessed by her grandmother's ghost, and thanks to that as well as her grandmother's choices in life, her life becomes entangled with the vengeful spirit--or god--the Black Water Sister.
The book starts off slow, but by the mid point we find out that ol' Ah Ma, who in life had been Black Water Sister's spirit medium, by virtue of her affinity to channel spirits, a quality both her son and Jess inherited, her side of the family became a kind of spiritual gang. And I do mean gang, in the LA sense of the word, in that they have members to rough up even the scion of the island's oligarch Ng Chee Hin to protect their outdoor temple where the Black Water Sister's altar resides from redevelopment.
It was such a swerve, if I'm being honest. I think in my head, when I heard "returning to her homeland," "reconnecting with her roots," and "discovering about her family," I was expecting some sort of sentimental story long the lines of Joy Luck Club, not a sordid tale of mafiosos and Yellowstone-esque attempted murders over land. As a result, the novel became perhaps unexpectedly funnier often than I was expecting with just how out of left field some of the plot points were. It was also hilariously relateable in the little details, like how Jess realizes she has no idea what her grandma's name is because she always just calls her Ah Ma and the casual integration of gods amongst mortals.
But I suppose at the heart of both stories is the generational trauma-bonding and healing narrative. It's because of her grandma's sordid past that Jess is estranged from her maternal family and, combined with her closeted relationship, feels unmoored from her place in her extended family. Her lack of knowledge on what it means to be in the family business of being mediums causes her to make a ton of mistakes, and it's only after Ah Ma finally tells her all their secrets that Jess moves anything towards a resolution. And because of just how fucked up everything got, there isn't a really big cathartic moment for Jess and her family to reconcile (Jess is even bummed that Ah Ma left without saying a word) but there is a measure of closure with Jess ready to accept coming out to her parents.
In the end, I think it was an unexpected read, and I enjoyed a great deal of it. I'm not sure if the emotional through line got to me well, but I appreciated it for its uniqueness.
Baek Hyeon is an esteemed palace nurse, who rose to the position from her contemptible position as a nobleman's illegitimate daughter largely through her own merits. And though her biological parents have not been supportive, her own mother a concubine who tried to compel Hyeon into a similar path, she had a mentor in Nurse Jeongsu for whom she still holds the deepest filial gratitude. So her shock at stumbling upon a grisly murder in the same nursing school from which she arose, and the very same Nurse Jeongsu as the accused, raises a fire in her to investigate the truth and prove her mentor's, who is so much like a mother to her, innocence with the help of the youngest police inspector prodigy, Seo Eojin.
In a nutshell, this is a murder mystery that takes place in ancient Korea, which was a fun experience reading it concurrently with my Apothecary Diaries watch. But of course Hyeon is not as quirky or weird as Maomao, though they both utilize their medical expertise to help solve crimes. There's also a greater sense of urgency thanks to the darker nature of the novel, based on the true crime story (!!) that inspired it. It makes for a quick, compelling read and I sped through it. I also appreciated the amount of cultural references and clear respect and research that went into the history of the time period, though I thought it was an interesting choice that the author chose not to include a glossary for some of the vocabulary. Even though I understood the language, I wasn't sure I would've been able to get it if I wasn't a speaker. That is, of course, a different debate for another time.
If I had to say what the weakest part of the book was, I would probably say the romance between Hyeon and Eojin. I didn't feel any particular chemistry, and most of their interactions are too clinical or fraught to really build up any romantic tension. Maybe if we could've seen some yearning from his side, but Hyeon is our only POV character. Honestly, it would've worked out the same if they ended up with just mutual, platonic respect for each other by the end of the story. That being said, it doesn't distract from what makes the story good, so really a minor critique at best.
Best-selling book series that's the basis of series of animated films (now on Disney+!) following the school year of middle-schooler Greg Heffley as chronicled by his diary--I mean, journal entries, accompanied by his helpful illustrations.
It's pretty fun and straightforward book, with really simple but expressive and distinctive illustrations. I can see why it's so popular among kids. I mostly read it to familiarize myself with the franchise that I'm working on, and I appreciate how the animated movies we're producing emulate Jeff Kinney's art style so well. Greg is kind of a jerk though -- I get that he's a kid, but are all kids that mean? I can't recall if I was like that as a kid. He comes off as a little more redeemable in the film. Maybe that's an effect of the adaptation? You do still feel bad for him with all the bad luck and disappointed hopes, and I think that's really relatable, even now.
By day, Missy Go and her cat Gizmo are intrepid inventors (even if no one appreciates their inventions) and pickled-egg connoisseurs, and by night they are Mischief and Mayhem, upcoming supervillains out to create, well, mischief and mayhem for the hapless citizens of Idleville, the most boring town where the only fun occurs during the annual festival honoring superheroes.
The graphic novel details Missy's not-so-dark origins on why she felt she had to pursue supervillainy in her path for acceptance, as well as meeting with her very first friend and mentor in villainy, the mistress of disguise Melvira and her sidekick chicken Claw. We see Missy try to find her tribe among the kids in superhero training and flunking out of superhero camp. And when Melvira's plot to rid the world of all things "super" with her de-super-fying gun, Missy realizes that there are some paths she just can't follow. For a middle school graphic novel, it's pretty fun and surprisingly plot heavy.
The art is also cute, simple, and distinctive. It should be easy for younger readers to follow along and keep track of all the characters. And it's nice that Missy's Asian American identity is something that's a present part of the character, but not something that's necessarily called out. It's just pieced together from her last name and her love of pickled eggs that others seem to find weird. It's a fun read for kids.
A story where a young woman named Violet Sorrengail enlists for the most dangerous but honored branch of government, its military corps, the dragon riders. This is despite having an incredibly frail constitution and being more academically inclined that would have made her a perfect fit for the scribes, the official record keepers and creators of the history and going-ons of Navarre. And even without her physical limitations, everything about the dragon corps is trying to kill her: from the fatal tests to weed out those who can't handle the nature of dragon-riding, to needing to interact with the inherently dangerous dragons that owe humans--even the ones who are allowed to ride one of them--no loyalty, to the fact that the rider corps are teeming with the children of a purged rebel faction and have every reason to want her dead given her mother helped round up and kill all of their parents and conscript said children to the one job that limits their freedom and will most likely kill them. So Violet must muster her wits, train her gumption, and hone her skills to even make it through her first year. And fight off her intense attraction to Xaden Riorson, the son of the leader of the rebellion.
This book was everywhere already, so of course the plot points are all fair game at this point.
I know this book is polarizing, and I think that's a fair assessment. I definitely didn't get the hype around it, but I also didn't hate it. I think if you read it as a frothy romance book that just happens to have take place fantasy pastiche, it becomes fairly readable. The weaknesses of the book really rear its head when the author tries to actually have plot, and that when my suspension of disbelief was strained the hardest. For one thing, there was absolutely no reason for Violet to "prove" herself by joining the dragon riders, and I couldn't figure out why she was willing to risk so much just to stay even if her mother supposedly ordered her to do it. And I say that as an Asian with a compulsion to please my parents. And boy, they never let you forget that literally everything is trying to kill her. For a supposed "honored" group, they sure as hell don't blink when their numbers are decimated. You would think that having that much fire power, there would be less an inclination to treat them as cannon fodder. Or maybe I'm just too jaded to not see any political favoritism in any kind of para-military setting a la Attack on Titan, which felt like it could actually happen in real world settings.
But hey, dragons. I'm shallow enough to admit that as far as wish-fulfillments go, dragon riding, dragon telepathy, channeling thunder is pretty high on the list. And the insanely hot, dark brooding and preternaturally talented at everything man who only has the hots for you and ends up pseudo married-slash-bonded to you? Turn your nose up all you want, but this definitely hits a certain market that would make this book a very normal and maybe even popular fanfic.
I would be inclined to check out the other parts in the future, but probably not immediately.
The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo by Taylor Jenkins Reid
Monique Grant, junior writer for the fashion magazine Vivant, is requested out of the blue, personally, by classic film star, Evelyn Hugo, to do an exclusive interview after years of seclusion. What's more Evelyn is insistent that no one but Monique be allowed to conduct the interview. But how does she even know Monique, who has no ties to The Industry and little renown as a writer, other than a right-to-die think piece?
Given how big this book was on BookTok a few years ago, it goes without saying that there's spoilers under the cut.
Somehow, I managed to avoid spoilers for it before getting into it. Part memoir, part mystery, there are essentially two driving questions in the novel. The first, for the perennially married Evelyn Hugo, having had seven husbands, who was the love of her life? This feels like a question that would drive the public's insatiable fascination with real life stars like Marilyn Monroe, but surprisingly this is answered relatively quickly. We find out that while all of the husbands play an instrumental part of her growth, the greatest love of her life is her acting contemporary, Celia St. James. As a bisexual woman in the 50s to 80s, when coming out as queer could tank the career she ruthlessly fought for, much of the drama of their relationship is from the tried and true tension of wanting to be true to their loves and wanting to survive, both professionally and literally, during the time period.
The second question is Evelyn's connection to Monique, which is answered in perhaps the final 50 pages of the book, and I admit I didn't see it coming (though I think more eagle-eyed readers would have): that her father was the lover of one of Evelyn's former husbands, and most dedicated friend, Harry Cameron, whose kinship with Evelyn began at starting her career but extended to also being a closeted gay man during the 50s. More egregiously, Evelyn made Monique's father the fall guy to protect Harry's reputation, leaving Monique to grow up believing her father (who didn't drink) died after crashing his car under the influence.
This second point is apparently the most controversial part of the book, as some felt it should've been sufficient for Evelyn to seek out Monique solely based on her "right to die" article. As for me, the twist felt true to Evelyn, who built her career out of using people, especially her husbands, it makes sense that she would use whatever she had at her disposal to help save the reputation of someone she favored. It was a selfish, human reaction, and while she's never claimed to be a good person, the story makes clear she's always been a human being who felt things deeply and truly.
Overall, I really liked this book. The perfunctory way in which Evelyn relates her story belies a smoothly woven narrative and it was easy to get lost in it. It felt like we were seeing the whole picture, particularly with how Evelyn's recountings are interspersed with replicated gossip articles that tell us how it looked. Because as an actress and storyteller, Evelyn excelled in that and we can see it, as clearly as Monique does. I can definitely see why TJR has her share of fans. I thought this was a really approachable first read, and I would be interested to try more from this author.
Annie and Verti meet at a convention where Verti photographs Annie's cosplay of Sailor Venus, and the two decide to team up and make a series of videos they could edit into minisodes. The book is a series of vignettes from their misadventures of going to cons, making amateur films, meeting fellow geeks, and of course, cosplaying.
Despite the book being self described as an "ode" to cosplay and cosplayers and a purported celebration of its beauty and awkwardness, it leans a lot more into the "awkward" instead of the beauty. Annie is the stronger personality of the duo and comes off as a pretty unlikeable character, and Verti is a lot more sympathetic, she nonetheless follows Annie's lead in most things. Perhaps it's to highlight that both of the girls are socially awkward and that's why they find an outlet in cosplay and film making, but it also makes it seem like everyone who has these hobbies are socially inept. The professor in one of the chapters is just so....sad. And though this is a minor point, for the focus in anime, it was weird that the colors were so muted and sparse for a genre that gained notoriety with bombastic art, and none of the characters are Japanese or even Asian. Despite being a hardcore geek myself, it's hard to find this a relatable read.
A mysterious tome that suddenly turned up in my hands! It promises glory and unlimited power to its readers in exchange for a few drops of blood! What a steal!
But seriously though, this book was so freaking well done. Obviously, a companion book to the Gravity Falls TV series told from the perspective of the main villain that picks up from when the series ends. The attention to detail is cray-cray and there are hours and hours worth of Easter eggs when you combine it with the accompanying website. I do think it's tailored towards Gravity Falls fans, but horror fans might also enjoy it even if they miss the context.
Also, heed that warning that it's for teens or older: some of the images and passages are kind of gory.
The world of the book exists where shadows are discovered to have certain abilities and the ones who control them are emerging magicians in a little understood magical study. It means that secrets and discoveries are jealously horded and that tomes written by these few practitioners that document their findings are some of the most valuable items in the world. To have the books is to have the power, and to have the books, one needs a thief. A thief like Charlie Hall, who unfortunately for her, is very good at what she does.
This is Holly Black's first adult book, and I think she was still in fine form here, but it did take a while for the plot to get going. A lot of the set up was not dedicated to Charlie herself, namely her messed up upbringing and how she got to stealing, and also, relatedly how much she hates herself -- seriously, in every chapter break is Charlie's intense self-recriminations (we got it the first time, girl). I actually wish Black would've devoted a little more world-building to the magic system, though because no one understands the magical system, there is a certain novelty for understanding exactly what the characters in the book do instead of having an omniscient POV. It also means that the titular book we've been chasing turns out to be a literal MacGuffin since it doesn't even purport to do what the characters believe it can, however, that is the nature of a heist book, which this ultimately turns out to be and why I enjoyed it the most.
Molly Gray is a maid at the Regency Grand Hotel whom her colleagues describe as "special." She sincerely takes enjoyment out of her job and cleaning up after clients until their rooms are returned to a state of perfection. Nothing is more inspiring to her than the hotel manager's company talks, and she sometimes doesn't understand context.
Unfortunately, it's also the reason why she's pinned as a suspect when a high-profile regular client of the hotel ends up dead and she's the one to discover the body. Fortunately, Molly has more friends than she thinks she does, and they all band together to help her prove her innocence.
Truly a delightful not-quite mystery, not-quite crime novel. It's never explicitly stated, but Molly exhibits some symptoms of being on the spectrum, and it in turn invites the other characters in the novel, and admittedly, sometimes the reader, to underestimate her. The real twist is seeing that while Molly has a strong moral code, her problems picking up on context does not make her ignorant or innocent, and her moral code follows more or a blue/orange morality.
A feminist retelling inspired by the Ramayana, focusing on Rama's step-mother figure, Kaikeyi. Most of the novel focuses on Kaikeyi's early years as opposed to strictly following the story of the Ramayana, Rama and Sita don't even show up until the later half of the novel and explores what shapes Kaikeyi's character and drives her to do the act for which she is forever remembered in infamy.
I should preface that I don't know much of the Ramayana. I watched Sita Sings the Blues years and years ago, but it obviously took some liberties with the source material. And I'm cognizant of the fact that this story is akin to scriptures to some, so I was eager to read a take by a Hindi author.
To prep myself for the story, I just did a quick wiki search on the figure of Kaikeyi and was surprised to see that at the end of her story, Rama forgives her when he returns from exile, which is a marked departure from Western treatment of the evil stepmother figure in folklore. The book wastes no time in setting up that Kaikeyi is not an "evil" or malicious figure from the beginning to the end, but she's akin to a cosmic plaything so often found in classical mythology like Oedipus. Like Oedipus, she's fated to commit the horrific act of betrayal (the banishment of Rama) by the gods, who conversely withhold any blessings, help, or guidance from her precisely because she's going to betray Rama. The cards are stacked against her from the beginning, much like her own mother who was banished for failing her father's impossible test.
I also appreciated Kaikeyi is an ace protagonist, which I haven't really seen in much YA. It takes away the sexual dimension with which to malign her, and put emphasis on her mutual respect and friendship with her husband (until Rama's influences overtakes him, that is). And she's explicitly set up as Rama's mother, not his stepmother, as the sisterhood of Dashareth's sisterwives take equal ownership of each others' sons. You really do get a sense that she wouldn't have chosen to exile Rama without good reason to.
All-in-all, it's a fairly effective retelling from Kaikeyi's perspective that matches the beats of the original story but isn't afraid to add its own embellishments. A lot of the blame is placed on destiny and Rama's own divinity that he didn't know how to wield, but if there's a villain at all, it's the conservative religious figures who ignore the value of progress and maintain the status quo. Ironically, we're ultimately shown they are right, Rama is meant to cleanse the world of evil, but the blame rather lies in giving him such narrow instruction that he fails to see the world beyond his own perceived glorious purpose. We never do get to see Rama's return, but she's forgiven by the rest of her family save her husband.
The story centers around two women: Sara Glikman, who can sense when soulmates are meant for each other and who channels her gifts into being a matchmaker, first clandestinely given the pressure from the traditionalists and then professionally; and Abby, her granddaughter and a successful divorce attorney. After Sara passes on, she leaves Abby her notebooks documenting the matches she's made, leading Abby to discover that she might also share Sara's gift.
I should probably preface that I picked this book up simply because the cover of the book was so beautiful--a soft green with a moon and flowers, and symbols that I would come to realize were emblematic of the vignettes that narrated Sara's matches. But I also discovered pretty quickly that I was probably not the right audience for the book. I'm usually not a romance reader, but this wasn't even about romance really. Every single couple who falls in love does it because it's their destiny. It's either love at first sight, or if there is an implied romantic development, it happens off-page. So the books is about marriage, and not about a relationship because each couple's story ends pretty much after they're married (except for the one couple where Sara helps the battered wife run away from her abuser husband, which given the story was kind of a weird deviation).
Why did I stick with it? I guess given that there didn't have to be much to develop in the narrative, it was pretty surface level writing, so kind of perfect to read at work on my lunch break. And I did like the magical realism aspects that weave throughout the manifestation of the matchmaking gifts. I don't know -- it was all right to pass the time, but I'm struggling to have any real opinions about it.
