The Neurospicy Bean

  While this book isn’t doing anything particularly new or unique, I thought that what it is doing, it does well. In particular, it’s an effective, if not particularly subtle, critique of the true crime genre obsession. It’s set at a true crime podcast’s competition to find the remains of a serial killer (this doesn’t seem like it can possibly be legal for a recent case, but whatever), and over the course of the novel we watch the competitors slowly unravel. Whether it’s a desire for power or romanticizing the killer, the distance between the competitors and the subject of their obsession slowly narrows, and although there’s a supernatural element at play, the reader is left to wonder how much of that unraveling is because of the supernatural and how much is simply the consequence of a culture that idolizes murderers. Balancing this out somewhat, though, is Caroline, who uses true crime as a processing mechanism for her very real trauma. This book does a nice job of walking the lin...

  This was a perfectly entertaining, pleasant romance, but it didn’t land for me quite the way the author’s other books have. Eddie in particular I really struggled to wrap my head around as a character – why he behaved the way he did and so on. I also really wish that the rest of the baseball team had played a bigger role – I always talk about how one of the highlights of a really well done romance is the relationships the characters have with people outside the primary romantic interest. That was a little bit lacking here, I think because so much of the focus ended up on Mark’s journey. That said, it’s still a well-written book that was emotionally engaging. In particular there was a scene towards the end about queerness and acceptance and society that really broke my heart. Absolutely worth picking up.

  Okay, I’ve been agonizing over this review for literally months. Pulley’s writing here is absolutely beautiful, her characters compelling, her world intriguing. She makes things that absolutely shouldn’t make any sense – talking mammoths anyone? – feel entirely natural. I was captivated from beginning to end. And yet. I have seen some legitimate criticisms of the way the book approaches its subject matter. The idea is that Mars is a human colony, specifically Chinese (although there are several cultural influences). Mars-born humans, being born in lighter gravity, are taller and generally more delicate than Earth-born humans. Earth-born humans (Earthstrongers) are comparatively extremely strong, enough so that a mere touch can pose a threat to a Martian, so they’re segregated from Martians. Our main character, January, is an Earthstronger refugee, while his love interest, Aubrey Gale, is a politician running on the platform of mandatory Earthstronger naturalization. There is a LO...

  There’s nothing special about Chin’s writing, necessarily, but the stories, anecdotes, and culture that he shares in this memoir more than make up for it. This book drew my interest because my brother goes to school in Detroit, and I’ve actually seen where Chung’s – the Chinese restaurant behind the title of the book – used to sit, near downtown. The Chinese community in Detroit has a really interesting backstory, which Chin goes into extensively. And of course as a gay Chinese American he has a specific experience to share. I found it really interesting to read about.

 

Unfortunately it’s been a few months since I read this, so I just don’t remember it as well as I would have liked to (though that’s in part because some of the stories just aren’t terribly memorable). So I can’t do a detailed review of each story. The three that I remember most clearly are “Kushtuka” (Mathilda Zeller), “Navajos Don’t Wear Elk Teeth” (Conley Lyons), and “Snakes Are Born in the Dark” (D.H. Trujillo). Each one carried a nice eeriness to it, each in a very distinct way. But oddly, I actually think the major highlight of this book was the foreword by Stephen Graham Jones. I don’t really have the words to describe it, but it is easily the part of the book that has stayed with me the most. There’s an intensity to it, a really excellent take on the horror genre, and a fascinating connection between Indigenous history and horror. All the stories were fine to read, but the introduction is the absolute most important part. If you don’t read anything else, read that. Otherwise, wh...

  This was actually more enjoyable than I expected it to be. I was anticipating one of those meandering, plotless books that middle aged white women seem to love, and it certainly wasn’t that. Instead, it was a perfectly pleasing mystery with plenty of clues and even a bit of action. Seemingly unrelated details were smoothly woven together in a satisfying way, and there were nice little relationships that got nods throughout. I did have a few gripes, mainly to do with the various perspectives the author was trying to weave together. The main thing is just that there was no reason to have so many different POVs. At the beginning, I think we heard from almost every single major character, and a couple of characters that seemed like they’d be major but then got shunted off to the side a third of the way in.  One example of this was I believe KJ (yeah, he was presented as a main character in the first several chapters and then became so sidelined that I hardly even remember his na...