Genre: Science Fiction/Space Opera

My Review - 5 Stars

I owe Aarya a debt because her enthusiasm over this book is the reason I read it. It wasn’t previously on my radar—for shame!—and it absolutely blew me away.

This is a Mahabharata-inspired space opera and maybe you’re not entirely sure what that combination of words means but trust me: you need this book in your life. I wasn’t familiar with the Hindu myth beforehand and I did fine but I definitely want to read the source material now to know how it compares. (I encourage you to read Aarya’s review for more particulars about the myth and how it compares to this story.) 

There were so many good twists, right from the beginning. I loved how the story developed. I knew very little going in and I think the book is best experienced that way.

But what you should know is Esmae has all kinds of complicated family dynamics and that’s before she sneaks into a competition and ends up winning, thus enabling her to return home to Kali for the first time since she was a baby. She’s such a great heroine and I loved seeing how her expectations didn’t always match reality and the way this changed things for her. I didn’t entirely understand why Esmae still wanted to see her mother and I had a bad feeling about her allegiance to Alexi. And not just because I was rooting for his cousin Max the whole time.

But Max was pretty wonderful, even if he’d been misunderstood his whole life. (Hello, catnip.) His parents the king and queen adopted him and he feels like he’s not the kind of son they wanted. Except he is a fantastic strategist, level-headed, and all around great and it broke my heart to see the way they reminded him he was not related by blood. (Heads up for those in the adoptive community that some of the language and treatment of adoption may be triggering.)

Besides Max and Esmae, I also loved Titania, the sentient warship. I loved that she wasn’t bloodthirsty despite being a warship. Every scene with Titania was top-notch and had such great humor. And I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention the wonderful inclusion of gods and goddesses and how this mythology is woven through the story.

King Elvar’s complexities were so richly developed. He is in part kind but thoughtlessly dismissive of his adopted son. Plus the whole stealing the throne from his teen nephew thing! He’s blind, which is why he was overlooked for the throne previously, but he’s proven he can rule. And yet we see his weaknesses as well, such as his misplaced faith in Lord Selwyn. It was interesting/concerning that his wife becomes blind herself out of some sort of misguided solidarity with her husband. They were such different rulers because of Elvar’s disability but more so because of his anxiety and paranoia.

The ending sets up some major things for the next book. Esmae’s rage gave me so much life. I’m also hoping Lord Selwyn will get the comeuppance he deserves. There’s going to be a big shift in Esmae’s family dynamics and I cannot wait to see what happens.

CW: toxic family members, abandonment, violence, betrayal, grief, adoption

Synopsis

In a universe of capricious gods, dark moons, and kingdoms built on the backs of spaceships, a cursed queen sends her infant daughter away, a jealous uncle steals the throne of Kali from his nephew, and an exiled prince vows to take his crown back. 

Raised alone and far away from her home on Kali, Esmae longs to return to her family. When the King of Wychstar offers to gift the unbeatable, sentient warship Titania to a warrior that can win his competition, she sees her way home: she’ll enter the competition, reveal her true identity to the world, and help her famous brother win back the crown of Kali. 

It’s a great plan. Until it falls apart. 

Inspired by the Mahabharata and other ancient Indian stories, A Spark of White Fire is a lush, sweeping space opera about family, curses, and the endless battle between jealousy and love.

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Genre: Nonfiction, Memoir, Essays

My Review - 4 Stars

The first few chapters were more academic in tone, which can be harder for me as a reader. But then Bernard delved more into her story and I was blown away.

This is not a linear memoir and the stories aren’t always connected in obvious ways. But they do have power and I’m very glad I read each essay. Towards the end, Bernard notes: “In every scar there’s a story. The salve is the telling itself.” And I think that sums up this book rather well. It’s not just Bernard’s story but that of her mother and grandmother. She explores her and their experiences as Black women, as well as her perspective as a professor of African American Studies. I tend to favor more intimate stories compared to an academic approach but I still learned from the more clinical chapters.

The chapters exploring infertility and adoption especially stood out to me. Her perspective as Black American woman and her white husband adopting internationally is invaluable. The twins’ adoption story was wild! There were so many layers and they’re spread out through the book in a way that really works, honing in on the details as needed and then zooming out for a more global perspective. Bernard and her husband approach the adoption that stands out from many of the narratives out there. “Some stories about adoption emphasize poverty or lack; a child unwanted or abandoned, a lost history. The stories we tell our girls are about bounty. You are adored on two continents, I tell them.”

I also really liked the way she interrogated her choice to live in Vermont. What works, what doesn’t. The questions she’s asked herself for years. Vermont’s pluses, as well as it’s difficulties for her as a person of color. She also looks at the concept of home and as someone who is still figuring that out, it really resonated with me. I’ll be thinking about this book for some time.

A note of caution: Bernard does spend the first chapter discussing being stabbed by a stranger. It was not racially motivated. She does go into detail about what happened and the aftermath of her recovery.

Additional CW: racism, microaggressions, references to lynching

Synopsis

An extraordinary, exquisitely written memoir (of sorts) that looks at race--in a fearless, penetrating, honest, true way--in twelve telltale, connected, deeply personal essays that explore, up-close, the complexities and paradoxes, the haunting memories and ambushing realities of growing up black in the South with a family name inherited from a white man, of getting a PhD from Yale, of marrying a white man from the North, of adopting two babies from Ethiopia, of teaching at a white college and living in America's New England today. 

"I am black--and brown, too," writes Emily Bernard. "Brown is the body I was born into. Black is the body of the stories I tell."
And the storytelling, and the mystery of Bernard's storytelling, of getting to the truth, begins with a stabbing in a New England college town. Bernard writes how, when she was a graduate student at Yale, she walked into a coffee shop and, along with six other people, was randomly attacked by a stranger with a knife ("I remember making the decision not to let the oddness of this stranger bother me"). "I was not stabbed because I was black," she writes (the attacker was white), "but I have always viewed the violence I survived as a metaphor for the violent encounter that has generally characterized American race relations. There was no connection between us, yet we were suddenly and irreparably bound by a knife, an attachment that cost us both: him, his freedom; me, my wholeness."
Bernard explores how that bizarre act of violence set her free and unleashed the storyteller in her ("The equation of writing and regeneration is fundamental to black American experience"). 
She writes in Black Is the Body how each of the essays goes beyond a narrative of black innocence and white guilt, how each is anchored in a mystery, and how each sets out to discover a new way of telling the truth as the author has lived it. "Blackness is an art, not a science. It is a paradox: intangible and visceral; a situation and a story. It is the thread that connects these essays, but its significance as an experience emerges randomly, unpredictably . . . Race is the story of my life, and therefore black is the body of this book."
And what most interests Bernard is looking at "blackness at its borders, where it meets whiteness in fear and hope, in anguish and love."

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Last month I had to go to Atlanta for a few days for work. Once the plans were in motion, I wondered how far Thomasville was from Atlanta. You see, I've long wanted to visit The Bookshelf, owned by my internet friend Annie B. Jones, and I figured this might be the closest I'd get.

It's about a four hour drive from Atlanta, which is a little long for a day trip but I was up for it. I reached out to my friend Lindsay who owns Pen & Paint and lives about an hour away from Thomasville. If you follow me on Instagram, you know I'm obsessed with her mugs and totes. We hatched a plan for me to drive to Lindsay and then she'd drive us the rest of the way down. Should I mention this was the first time Lindsay and I met in person? It was no matter because we barely stopped to breathe during our conversation on the drive.

My day in Thomasville was all about the transition from internet friends to real life friends. While I'll argue that my internet friends and I have very real friendships even if we sadly never get to meet in person, there is something undeniably special about being face to face. It's freeing to no longer be limited by texts or Voxer or DMs. The conversation can spill all over itself and you can see the expression on their face as they laugh or cringe or tear up. Whenever I have the chance to get together with one of my internet friends, I take it and I'm better for it.

Ashley, me, Lindsay, Annie

Before I go into the particulars of The Bookshelf, I want to note Thomasville is a gem of a small town. There's a great vibe, fun shops to visit, and some great food. There's even a wine bar where you can do tastings! What's not to love? Lindsay and I had a great time exploring and then once the bookstore closed, Annie joined us and Ashley for dinner. It was such a treat to have the time together.

The Bookshelf was as dreamy as I thought it would be. It's a well curated store and there are so many fun details. You can see Annie's handprint all over it, from the design elements to what's stocked. 

I browsed the store to my heart's content, debating about which book to buy. And then I landed on the best idea: I asked Annie to recommend me some literary fiction. About a week before I visited, Annie and I had been voxing about the definition of literary fiction vs genre fiction. She reads more of the former; I read more of the latter and I was curious about what she thought I might like. I told her a few favorites: A Prayer For Owen Meany, Americanah, and Homegoing. She wandered the shelves and handed me a stack of books to look over, which all sounded promising.

But then our conversation turned to Taylor Jenkins Reid, whom I hadn't read before, and what genre her latest release Daisy Jones & The Six belongs to, which was fascinating. Annie's enthusiasm over the book made me even more intrigued so that's what I ended up buying. About a week later, I read Daisy Jones in one day. I inhaled it and I couldn't have loved it more. (Read my review.)

If you're ever near Thomasville, The Bookshelf is well worth the stop. Tell Annie I sent you.

Genre: Memoir

My Review - 5 Stars

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Ruth Reichl’s books are among my favorite food memoirs. I regularly give away my copy of Tender At The Bone (Amazon | Barnes & Noble) to friends but Comfort Me With Apples (Amazon | Barnes & Noble) and Garlic And Sapphires (Amazon | Barnes & Noble) are right up there too. After finishing Garlic And Sapphires, which goes into her experiences as the New York Times food critic, I fervently hoped her next book would be about her time as the editor in chief at the now shuttered Gourmet magazine.

Save Me The Plums was worth the wait. Reichl gives a no-holds-barred account of her transition from food critic to EIC, her coworkers, the triumphs, and how it all came to an end. She was a very unconventional choice for Gourmet and we get to see very clearly how it played out. She had quite the learning curve but what a marvelous ride she had. It made me a little bummed I never read Gourmet, at least not that I can recall. But given her account of what the magazine was like before she took over, I can understand why I would have written it off as “not for me” and never taken another look.

Reichl changed the culture of the staff and that in turn led to vibrant years together. I really enjoyed hearing about the risks they took, the way various people left their imprint on it, and the various writers they hired for articles, including Junot Díaz, Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, and David Foster Wallace. The behind-the-scenes on DFW's piece Consider The Lobster was especially fascinating. She also admits where she messed up and what about the role worked for her and didn’t.

She also shares luminously about 9/11, both the personal impact and how the magazine staff came together to feed the rescue workers. It made me tear up, thinking back to where I was that fateful day and how we’ve changed as a nation since then.

Several recipes are included and I’ve bookmarked a few, including Spicy Chinese Noodles and Thanksgiving Turkey Chili. The love of food permeates the pages and while Reichl has a more adventurous palate than I do, she excels at making her readers love the journey as much as she did. Save Me The Plums is a marvelous addition to the food memoir canon.

Synopsis

Trailblazing food writer and beloved restaurant critic Ruth Reichl took the risk (and the job) of a lifetime when she entered the glamorous, high-stakes world of magazine publishing. Now, for the first time, she chronicles her groundbreaking tenure as editor in chief of Gourmet, during which she spearheaded a revolution in the way we think about food.

When Condé Nast offered Ruth Reichl the top position at America's oldest epicurean magazine, she declined. She was a writer, not a manager, and had no inclination to be anyone's boss. And yet . . . Reichl had been reading Gourmet since she was eight; it had inspired her career. How could she say no?

This is the story of a former Berkeley hippie entering the corporate world and worrying about losing her soul. It is the story of the moment restaurants became an important part of popular culture, a time when the rise of the farm-to-table movement changed, forever, the way we eat. Readers will meet legendary chefs like David Chang and Eric Ripert, idiosyncratic writers like David Foster Wallace, and a colorful group of editors and art directors who, under Reichl's leadership, transformed stately Gourmet into a cutting-edge publication. This was the golden age of print media--the last spendthrift gasp before the Internet turned the magazine world upside down.

Complete with recipes, Save Me the Plums is a personal journey of a woman coming to terms with being in charge and making a mark, following a passion and holding on to her dreams--even when she ends up in a place she never expected to be. 

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Disclosure: I received an advanced copy from Random House in exchange for an honest review.

Genre: Erotic Romance

My Review - 5 Stars

It should surprise no one that A Lesson In Thorns was everything I never knew I always needed. Sierra Simone’s talent is unparalleled and I love this new direction for her work. She explores the intersection of the sacred and profane in such fascinating ways. And her prose never ceases to blow me away. Symbolism galore and I ate it up with a spoon.

This had such a dreamy, fairy-tale quality and yet it was very much rooted in reality, albeit with a slight magical glaze. Poe reconnects with several friends twelve years after a memorable summer as pre-teens. She’s there to work as a librarian but also to see if she can find clues as to her missing mother’s whereabouts. Thornchapel, a remote manor with gothic vibes, holds the key to it all in true Sierra Simone fashion.

There’s a bibliophile mystery element and the group all has to read dusty old books for information. This is basically my dream. Send me off to the UK to organize someone’s personal library and if there are some hot men nearby, all the better.

Poe, Auden, St. Sebastian, Rebecca, Delphine, and Becket were such richly developed characters. While the story is primarily told from Poe’s perspective, we’re given interludes that allow us to delve into the others’ POVs so I had a great sense of who they were and what they wanted, as well as their hopes and fears. There’s also a range of diversity, which is always appreciated.

Sierra’s title of erotic theologian is firmly in place as the story delves into rituals and holy holidays, all with the lens of kink and sex. The story explores virginity as a construct, the meaning of sex, and the way we engender religion and God in some really interesting and thought-provoking ways. I wish everyone thought about sex and God the way these characters do. The context for all of this makes a world of difference. The group has to decide what they think about Imbolc and the ritual sex at its center; they have to imbue it with meaning and figure out what parts of the ceremony to keep or reclaim and what to make their own. And yes, let’s be honest: the end result is hot. Do I wish I had an Auden and Saint of my own? Absolutely.

The group is collectively and individually becoming themselves. They each come to an understanding about who they are, whether it’s a side they didn’t know they had, such as Auden’s dominance, or whether it’s the chance to finally be who they were meant to be, as with Poe. The sex scenes are incredibly steamy but they also serve the plot in some memorable and important ways.

Again and again we’re given this idea of “waking up.” This is contrasted with Poe’s narcolepsy without cataplexy and the way she manages it. In some ways, they have all been asleep. They are waking up to who they are but I suspect Thornchapel is also waking up, although we don’t yet know how or why. But change is coming.

The idea of place is really important. Thornchapel means something different to each person but they’re all inexplicably drawn there. And events at the end will certainly propel the story in some big ways. There was a good amount of angst and a good amount of satisfaction at certain developments. There isn't a cliffhanger at the end but there’s still a lot of story to tell. I, for one, cannot wait to see what happens next.

CW: parental abandonment, grief, references to abusive father, references to past rape

Synopsis

When librarian Poe Markham takes the job at Thornchapel, she only wants two things: to stay away from Thornchapel’s tortured owner, Auden Guest, and to find out what happened to her mother twelve years ago. It should be easy enough—keep her head down while she works in the house’s crumbling private library and while she hunts down any information as to why this remote manor tucked into the fog-shrouded moors would be the last place her mother was seen alive. But Thornchapel has other plans for her... 

As Poe begins uncovering the house’s secrets, both new and old, she’s also pulled into the seductive, elegant world of Auden and his friends—and drawn to Auden’s worst enemy, the beautiful and brooding St. Sebastian. And as Thornchapel slowly tightens its coil of truths and lies around them, Poe, Auden and St. Sebastian start unravelling into filthy, holy pleasure and pain. Together, they awaken a fate that will either anoint them or leave them in ashes… 
*** 
From the author of the USA Today bestselling New Camelot series comes an original fairy tale full of ancient mysteries, lantern-lit rituals, jealousy, money, murder, sacred torment, and obsessions that last for lifetimes... 

***A Lesson in Thorns is the first of four books in the Thornchapel series.*** 

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