Review: Six of Crows by Leigh Bardugo

★★★★★

source: e-galley from Macmillan

publication: October 6, 2015, Henry Holt

**all quotes are from uncorrected proof**

HERE IS A REVIEW WITH, LIKE, ACTUAL WORDS, I GUESS. [spoiler-free]

Here's something you should know about me: the number of playlists I have for a book is directly related to how much I loved that book. My favorite book, which I read for the first time more than two and a half years ago, has since claimed 182 songs and 15 playlists in my iTunes library. I should mention that some of those playlists and songs go with the sequels, because that is relevant to what I'm about to tell you.

Six of Crows does not have a sequel yet*. I did not read Six of Crows two and a half years ago; I finished it four days ago.

It already has 9 playlists and 57 songs.

If that does not tell you enough, here are some additional thoughts:

Six of Crows is an edgy whirlwind heartbreaker of a book. It's a fantastical, gritty, emotional story about not one, not two, but six three-dimensional characters, every one of whom feels like a real person. It's a heist story, a resilience story, and a story about the vanishing line between human and monster. (I can already tell you that one of the most popular quotes of the book will be "We're all somebody's monster.")

"When everyone knows you're a monster, you needn't waste time doing every monstrous thing."

The characters and their relationships were my favorite thing about this novel, but I don't want to say too much about them because I think the experience of getting to know them made me all the more attached. I will say that they're a bunch of Weebles, you guys. They've spent most of their lives wobbling in one way or another, but they refuse to fall down. Two of them are dealing with a betrayal that cost them everything. One of them is hiding severe PTSD after a traumatic and heartbreaking experience. One is tired of always being someone else's property. One is a gambler whose loose lips get him in trouble, and the last is a runaway from a life of privilege and secret pain.

There was no part of him that was not broken, that had not healed wrong, and there was no part of him that was not stronger for having been broken.

And they have not stopped fighting for what they want, whether it's revenge, freedom, love, or acceptance. It turns out that Weebles make for really gripping characters.

So, what brings this eclectic cast of people together? Well, Kaz Brekker, of course. He's assembled this talented crew for business purposes: a man came to see him about an impossible heist that will either get them killed or win them a life-changing sum of money, and who is Kaz Brekker to turn down a deal like that?

The heist has something to do with Grisha and brings about moral debates between some of our characters, but I won't go into detail because the synopsis is similarly vague. I will say it's a new side of the Grishaverse, because now we're in a part of the world where Grisha are something to be used, not revered or respected. The novel then takes us to another part of the world that believes they are monstrosities, that their existence is wrong and must be corrected. This is the central conflict between two of the protagonists, one of whom is a Grisha and one of whom was conditioned to believe all Grisha are evil, and it's a beautiful Jongritte-esque situation if I ever saw one.

There's not quite as much magic in this one as there was in any of the original Grisha books, but that's okay because when it is used, it's used perfectly. Alina Starkov's journey was, in a way, defined by magic: when she found her magic, she found her power, but losing her magic was ultimately how she kept her power**. In Crows, magic and power are inversely linked; characters who have magic must choose how to be powerful despite it, which is a really interesting flip of the dynamic, and I actually think the unconventional approach made for more nuanced character development.

Another thing I loved about this book (okay, I loved everything, shut up) was the strategy behind everything that happened. Kaz is like a male, criminal, slightly more underhanded version of Kestrel from The Winner's Curse, so he's always ten steps ahead of everyone else and he uses any information he can get (thanks to Inej) against someone if he has reason to. He can usually think of a reason to.

Kaz cocked his head to one side, his eyes focused on something distant. 
"Scheming face," Jesper whispered to Inej. 

God, I love him. Kaz is the antihero I think everyone wanted the Darkling to be (or is still pretending the Darkling was). I could talk to you about Kaz Brekker for days without interruption. But while he may be the one I feel strongest about, he is by no means the only one who had me basically writhing with emotions. Hence, the playlists. 57 songs in 4 days. You do the math.

When I finished the book, I was all

and Leigh Bardugo was all

So congratulations, Bardugo, you have ruined me. In the best way possible.

*at least not one I have read because, hi, this book isn't even out for another 5 months.

**by which I mean, her power over her own life, which is the only kind of power Alina actually wanted and the only kind that's relevant to the main six in Crows.

Review: Illuminae by Amie Kaufman and Jay Kristoff

★★★★½

source: galley from Random House

publication: August 4, 2015, Knopf

**all quotes are from the uncorrected proof**

Told via a dossier of files documenting three central intergalactic events—the destruction of the planet Kerenza, the takedown of space freighter Copernicus, and a...nother incident that happens at the end that I won't spoil—Illuminae is essentially the story of Kady Grant and Ezra Mason, teenage exes on separate ships who are trying to figure out what the heck is going on. At 600 pages, this is an expansive, imaginative, and at times heartbreaking tale filled with characters you can't help but feel for. Even the would-be villains will capture your heart in these documents. It's real weird, chum.

I hadn't really planned to read this book when I did. I was between books and picked it up, expecting the format to make it easy to put it down and pick up something else. I thought there was no way I'd be able to get into all the different types of documents and that I'd end up skimming some of them, thereby making myself confused about what was going on. This was a miscalculation; every single page of this book is interesting and necessary, either for the characters' personal stories or for the larger story of, like, spaceships and war and disease. You know. Because just one of those things was not enough.

The characters in this book are my new best friends, you guys. I love them. I want to hang out with them and be their lookout when they're doing illegal things. Even though they do pretty well without me, I think it would work out. Kady is sofrickinawesome. She hacks systems and sasses authority figures and saves, like, hundreds of people, all while she's basically an emotional wreck because she thinks she only has one person left in the entire universe. Her journal entries are heart-wrenching; her conversations with people will put a satisfied smirk on your face; and the surveillance video reports on her show you what a badass she is. The best part might be that she lets everyone underestimate her, because if they didn't underestimate her she could never get any of it done. All of the awesome crap that she does depends on people not knowing she can do it, not paying attention to her because she's small and a girl and seventeen years old. Not only does she refuse to let being a tiny young female stop her, but she uses it to her advantage. Kady Grant is a master manipulator; just watch and learn, grasshopper. It's marvelous.

They don't need this girl in neurogramming, they need her in psych-ops, eyeball-to-eyeball with the guys who need to see things a little differently. Just saying. What she says must be an excuse, and it works. [...] As the door hums shut, subject is visible pivoting and blowing a kiss back toward the server room. I don't blame her. She just plundered that thing. 

It took twelve ------- minutes. And she's just strolling away.

And then there's Ezra. He is, for all intents and purposes, your average teenage boy. Maybe a little smarter. He doesn't take anything too seriously, he's loyal to his friends, and he loves Kady (because, let's be real, who wouldn't love her... except maybe authority figures). I was completely sold on him by page 41, wherein Ezra writes a wonderfully drunken email to her (and thank you, Jay Kristoff, for being method enough to actually roll your face across the keyboard). But let me tell you one thing, I have rarely, if ever, been so entertained reading from the perspective of a teenage boy before. His dialogue just makes him so lovable and in addition to that, he's competent. That's ultimately what makes his relationship with Kady believable; ain't no way she would be with someone she had to carry all the time. They are each good at different things and we get to see them shine at those things independently since they're apart for the entire book, but it never really feels like they're on their own. Their relationship keeps them going when planets explode and ships crash and disease takes over and everything else seems hopeless.

The secondary characters somehow manage to catch my attention as well, which is a feat considering, again, this book is a dossier of files. I cried over their deaths and then wondered if the fictional corporation the dossier was meant for cried over them, too. Probably not, those coldhearted -------s. Go die in a black hole, BeiTech.

If you're wondering whether this format will confuse you, like I did, just don't even worry about it. Trust me, I'm not big on space books or generally anything with "high-octane" in the synopsis because I find them ridiculous or confusing or just uninteresting, but Illuminae is none of the above. You might feel like you don't know exactly what's going on or what everyone's motivations are at first, but it becomes clear by the end of the book—certain information is purposefully withheld. It makes the reveal more intense and satisfying. The last 25% or so of this book was nothing short of mindblowing. The most beautifully written passages are—get this—from the point of view of the battlecarrier Alexander's artificial intelligence system AIDAN, who which had previously killed hundreds of people and tried to kill hundreds more. But they're thought-provoking and poetic and unbelievably powerful:

I cut the feeds to spare him the sounds his people make as they die. Am I not merciful? 

At the apex of callousness, she finds only ones and zeros. And with no hope to hold it in check, grief finally steps out to take its place on the stage.

Why did they give me this sense of self? Why allow me the intellect by which to measure this complete inadequacy? I would rather be numb than stand here in the light of a sun that can never chase the chill away.

I still cannot fathom her pattern. My brain the size of a city, and still she is beyond me. They are beyond me. These humans. With their brief lives and their tiny dreams and their hopes that seem fragile as glass. Until you see them by starlight, that is. 

Oh, AIDAN. You smooth talker.

AND THEN THAT PLOT TWIST AT THE END HELLO YES EXCELLENT now run

Anyway. It's become pretty clear to me that books blurbed by Marie Lu are usually a solid bet, and this one is no exception. I cannot wait to get my hands on a finished copy*... and also book 2.

*don't even THINK about getting this on your e-readers, guys. Buy the hardcover. For reals.

Review: Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda by Becky Albertalli

★★★★½

source: ARC from HarperCollins

publication: April 7, 2015, Balzer + Bray

Gonna try to keep this short and sweet.

Simon is one of my favorite narrators I've ever encountered. I found him and his high school experience more relatable and realistic than any contemporary novels I've read lately, or maybe even ever. There were certain passages in this book that I read twice because I couldn't get over the fact that someone had actually said it. I couldn't get past how believable these characters were; who among us hasn't kept a secret for fear that it would change how people saw us? Who hasn't had that friend or been that friend who gets jealous when they aren't the first person to be told a secret, or when their friends hang out without them?

While steeped in the realities of suburban high school, the book also has a delightfully ridiculous element to it: the school blog, where students can post something anonymously and everyone will know its content the next day. This is what brings Simon and his secret pen pal, Blue, together, and it's what puts their relationship at risk the most. The mechanics of the Tumblr are not explained very well (probably my most severe criticism of this book), but I assume people could submit posts on anon and wait for them to be published by the admin? I wish the identity of the admin had been explored further, because honestly. Everyone at that school would no doubt be curious about it (like in Sarah Ockler's #scandal).

Albertalli doesn't stop at depicting a realistic setting with realistic characters; she also raises questions and addresses heteronormativity with Simon's mixture of romanticism and cynicism. Why don't straight people have to "come out"? Why will his "coming out" change the way people see him, when he's been gay all along? As Simon says (ha), there should be no default. And he says it so simply and beautifully.

The romance was adorable. I totally called who Blue was and found myself wishing that they'd met sooner and had that romantic tension in person rather than just via email, but I loved reading their correspondence. It was all light and fun and then heavy and emotional and yes. Ugh. Connection.

This is definitely going on my shelf of comfort books, to be reread when I finish books that destroy me just a little too much.

Review: The Wrath and the Dawn by Renée Ahdieh

★★★★★
Source: galley from Penguin
Publication: May 12, 2015, Putnam

Well, I figure I should write an actual review instead of just lamenting the fact that the book had to end. [note that all quotes are from the uncorrected galley.]

"It would not be a welcome dawn.

Already the sky told this story, with its sad halo of silver beckoning from beyond the horizon."

Now THAT is how you start a book. Don't you just want to eat those delicious sentences? Don't you just want to keep reading? Do it. Keep reading, because this book is just as mesmerizing as its first sentences. It's a wonder of writing and character, of magic and politics, of love and hate. Mesmerizing, luminous, romantic, heartbreaking, lyrical, beautiful, dangerous, funny, feminist (!!!!), endearing, and so many other adjectives that I thought of and then replaced with others when I turned another page. To be honest, I haven't felt this particular way about a book since I first read The Scorpio Races, which is a high compliment indeed. They're not similar at all except in the most important way: how they make you feel. 

Shahrzad is the heroine of heroines. She's fierce, stubborn, and good with a bow & arrow, yes, but she's also sentimental and "girly" and jealous and flawed. She doesn't let anyone think that being a girl means she isn't strong, and she doesn't let being strong stop her from being a girl. Girls have to put up with a lot of crap, and Shahrzad isn't afraid to call the world out on it. 

"Is that kind of disrespect . . . normal?"

Shahrzad lifted a shoulder. "It's not normal. But it's not unexpected. It's the curse of being a woman," she joked in a morose manner. 

Basically Shazi is fantastic and everyone should be more like her.

Khalid. Okay, so here's the thing about Khalid. Somewhere between pages 1 and 115, I kind of fell in love with him and I couldn't put my finger on why. I mean, the dude has killed dozens of women. That is not a thing that usually works for me. But something about him had me swooning harder than I've swooned in a long time. Before Khalid, I wasn't even sure I did swoon anymore, having become accustomed to dreamy male characters, especially of the let-me-hug-you-and-keep-you-happy variety. I've got plenty of characters who hold my happiness inside theirs—if they aren't happy, I can't be either—but not many who are distinctly unhappy and somehow manage to make me happy anyway. That was what Khalid did.
By page 200, I had figured out the secret ingredient that made me love him.
He's a feminist. A raging, vocal feminist who respects women not because they are women, not because they are someone's mother, wife, sister, etc., but because they are people. While he often wants to stand up for Shazi, she can stop him with a single hand on his chest or arm, because he knows that she can fight her own battles. Heck, he knows that she can fight pretty much anyone's battles.

My favorite thing about this, though? His feminism is learned. It is actively achieved; he hasn't always been this way. He was raised by a father who thought of women as property, and I can't tell you what impact that had on Khalid as a husband because it's a major spoiler, but trust me when I say that he had some poor, ingrained behaviors to outgrow. And he did outgrow them. Which is a beautiful thing.

"You are—remarkable. Every day, I think I am going to be surprised by how remarkable you are, but I am not. Because this is what it means to be you. It means knowing no bounds. Being limitless in all that you do."

"Shahrzad al-Khayzuran! You are not weak. You are not indecisive. You are strong. Fierce. Capable beyond measure." 

Naturally with these two awesome characters (who are both supposed to kill each other haha oops), the romance is off-the-charts amazing. It doesn't sneak up on you the way some of my favorites do, but that doesn't mean it isn't well developed and believable. If anyone tries to claim instalove on this one I will personally fight them on it because it was so slow and steady it was almost torturous. You just want to smash their faces together, to be honest.

Oh, and the side characters are great. I love that Shahrzad could have so many enemies in this book, considering her position on both the inside and the outside of two warring systems, but nobody was unnecessarily cruel to her. She made friends tentatively but easily, and Despina was such an asset to both her and the story itself. Jalal was an asset to Khalid. Everybody loves each other and nothing hurts okay some things hurt, but you'll like it. When people were cruel to Shazi, absolutely nobody was having it, least of all Shazi herself. God, I love her so much.

I've provided a few samples of how flawless the writing is, but what you can't tell from those samples is that the entire book is written that way. The whole book is earth-shatteringly stunning, with descriptions and lines and emotional punches that will knock you over repeatedly. Allow me to flip to a random page and find an example: "He smiled a smile to shame the sun." WHAT IS THIS WORD-SORCERY?

I love this book so much. Good luck finding a copy when it comes out because I'm going to buy all of them.

Now, you say I have to wait HOW LONG for the next one?

Review: A Darker Shade of Magic by V.E. Schwab

I HAVE COME TO TALK TO YOU ABOUT AN ADULT BOOK.

I AM VERY EXCITED ABOUT IT.

★★★★½

Source: galley from Macmillan

Publication: Feb 24 2015, Tor

HERE IS A SUMMARY:

Kell is one of only two magicians who can travel between four different Londons—parallel Londons, three of which feature magic as a regular part of life. Kell's London is Red London, the only one that has both magic and order. He is a ward of the Red crown, an adoptive brother of sorts to the prince, and secretly, he's also a criminal. Kell has a bad habit of smuggling artifacts between the different Londons because it turns out that people from non-magical London are fascinated by magical things, and people from magical Londons are fascinated by mundane things. On one of his travels to White London, where there are a lot of shadows and two evil monarchs, Kell finds himself in possession of a powerful relic from Black London, and he knows he has to return it to where it came from—except that Black London has been permanently closed off because its magic became too dangerous.

Enter Delilah Bard, thief and aspiring Grey London pirate, who wants nothing more than adventure and renown. After picking Kell's pocket and finding the Black relic, she gets caught up on his situation and insists on coming with him to return it. Cue obstacles and enemies and magic.

HERE IS A REVIEW:

The more I think about this book, the more I love it. I don't understand. While I was reading it I liked it just fine for the first half, much more for the second half, but I wasn't prepared to shout my love for it from the rooftops. But now I sit here, having finished the book two days ago, and all I want to do is tell people about it.

Right from the start you can tell that this is going to be a solid novel, because the prose is very sure-footed and consistent. Schwab knew what she was doing when she wrote this book. She explains the world without dumping giant piles of information onto the page; she gives her characters personalities and traits primarily through their actions; and she keeps the plot going while also allowing her characters both reflection and forethought. 

If you like fantasy but struggle to get into those big, sweeping high fantasy worlds, this is the book for you. It's not really set in our world, but our world does play a part in it. You don't have to familiarize yourself with a map or strange names of places that don't exist, and the magic feels entirely organic to the Londons that have it. You won't find yourself flipping back a few pages to recall something that you had already been told, hoping to find an explanation for something else later on. Reading onward becomes a natural state of existence with this one.

If you like quirky, epic, mostly moral characters with penchants for crime, this is also the book for you. Lila Bard owns my soul right now; she's a fully fleshed-out character with a lot of hardness and a little vulnerability and enough spark to start a forest fire (good thing she doesn't live near a forest). You don't really get a sense for Kell until you see him through Lila's eyes—at which point you realize he is kind of a socially inept dork, but somehow he's full of charisma at the same time. And magic. He's really good at magic. Which comes in handy when you deal in dangerous magical artifacts that are wanted by dangerous magical monarchs. What also comes in handy: a thief who trusts no one. These two do so much saving each other.

Now, I know what you're thinking. Two main characters, one male and one female, you see each of them better through the other's eyes... must be a romance, right? WRONG.

Which, of course, is my favorite kind of romance.

You see, there is ostensibly no romance between Kell and Lila, but it is painfully, beautifully clear that there could be. That there should be. The respect and admiration for each other that they develop from enemies to not-quite-friends to okay-sure-we're-friends, all the way to fixed-points-in-each-other's-worlds, are the qualities that I look for in fictional [also real] romantic relationships. I love me a slow burn, and this is the slowest of them all—the kind where you're not even sure anyone sees it but you. But authors do these things on purpose, and trust me, you'll all see it. I know because this is exactly how I felt about Blue and Gansey — right down to the possible alternate-romance Blue/Adam or in this case, Lila/Rhy — and we know how that's going. [Aside: When I tell you a relationship reminds me of Blue/Gansey, you better take note. That is basically the highest compliment I can give.]

The main characters are the life of the party here and they could easily carry the story on their own, but as if they weren't enough, the side characters are interesting as well. I found myself attached to them despite the fact that they don't get nearly as much screen time. Rhy is the perfect foil for Kell: trusting where Kell is not, socially adept where Kell is not, and unsure how to be cynical where Kell is nothing if not cynical. I do declare that this shall be a bromance for the ages. And then there's Holland, Kell's almost-enemy, who I really just wanted to hug even though he's pretty terrifying. We've also got Barron, Lila's father-figure-person who she keeps at arm's length because she's Lila, but he is consistently there anyway, and Parrish and Gen, Rhy's guards who totally did not need to become actual characters but they totally did. Every character is a character, whether they needed to be or not.

The villains were maybe not my favorite thing about the book, but I get the feeling they were not the real villains of this story. Astrid and Athos Dane were evil, no question, but their evil didn't make me shiver. It didn't make me ponder what it means to be human, or give me nightmares—though surely they would be terrifying to look at, what with those black veins and all. All the two of them really did was prepare me for something much, much worse in the next book. Or the book after that (is this a duology or are there going to be more? SOMEONE TELL ME NOW).

And wow, I can't wait to see where Kell and Lila go next time.

Now I'm off to read the rest of Victoria Schwab's books, because strangely this is the first one I've read.

Review: Crown of Midnight by Sarah J. Maas

✭✭✭✭½

I'm starting this review at 12:27am. This is a bad idea for several reasons:

1. I'm at my most emotional when a) I've just finished a book, or b) it's past midnight. So, double whammy.
2. A book like this, my review is going to be long and rambly and I probably won't finish it until at least 2:00 if I do the whole thing now.
3. I was totally ready to start another book, and if I keep dwelling on this one I'm going to have such a bad book hangover that I won't be able to do it. I just won't.

Crap, guys.

Crap.

I wasn't prepared for this book. It beckoned me to float into the sky and then it beat me down, and beat me down, and beat me down some more.

Right, this is supposed to be the part where I tell you how much you'll enjoy Crown of Midnight. Lucky for you, "beat me down" in my vocabulary tends to mean "got me emotionally invested to the point where I cry when the characters are sad, I cry when they're happy, I cry when their full names are used in butt-kicking, odds-defying moments, and I cry when their expectations of each other are just a little too high." Because that's what happens when you love someone: you expect too much of them. You get hurt, and you hurt them right back.

Let's talk about Celaena Sardothien, the King's Champion, for a second.

Celaena, whose family was slaughtered, whose best friend and first love was murdered, who spent a year in a salt mine prison and then whose one chance for freedom involved a tournament to the death. This girl isn't just followed by death, she is death. Psychologically damaged to the point where you're on edge constantly, waiting for her to break, Celaena is not your average Strong Female Character. And I'm not talking about the padded-room-with-a-straitjacket kind of break, or the eat-your-sorrows-and-cry-in-your-bed kind of break. I'm talking about the kill-now-think-later kind of break. There are a lot of kickass female protagonists that could make you regret being born, but Celaena wouldn't even give you long enough to do so. She's an assassin, and you do not want to cross her.

It's not easy to forget how deadly Celaena is, and yet a few people have managed to see past it. Chaol, Dorian and Nehemia haven't forgotten what she is, but they're more concerned with who she is. Her relationships with each of them are extremely different, but they all ring true-- and that is why I loved this book. Through all the court drama, politics, fighting and magic, it shines with authentic humanity, with connections that sometimes break and can't grow back the way they were before, but they do grow back.

I spent a lot of time in this book arguing with myself. Part of me was mad at Celaena for the way she acted, how quickly she could turn on the people who cared about her, but then the another part of me was constantly reminding myself that she had a history of being betrayed-- and that she's suffered horrible trauma at the command of the king she now serves. And she's a teenage girl. All things considered, I think she's allowed to be irrational, spiteful and reckless. Not even halfway through the series, we have reason to believe that she's not irreparably damaging herself by being this way. Even within this very book she realizes her mistake and admits it. In the next one, maybe she won't be so impulsive or see things in such black and white terms.

Now, moving away from Celaena to talk about the book in general, I thought it was just brilliant. The transition from romance to friendship with Dorian was extremely well done and I didn't find myself doubting for a second that they could be friends. Dorian Havilliard, the Crown Prince of Adarlan, could pretty much have any girl he wanted. He wants the King's Champion, but she is the one person it seems doesn't want him back-- and what does he do? He handles it with such grace and dignity that I grew to love him even more than I already did (and I swear to god, Sarah J. Maas, I'm keeping him locked away in my room until you promise not to hurt him. I have a lot of books he can read). Dorian Havilliard is who Adam Kent should have been, but was never a decent enough human to be.

Celaena's relationship with Chaol-- Chaol Westfall, Captain of the Guard, loyal servant to the king he suspects Celaena wants to see dead-- comes naturally. The stakes are high and you could cut the tension with a knife, but one thing is always abundantly clear: Celaena and Chaol will always choose each other. They are natural enemies who learn to live in the space between right and wrong. Emotional punches left, right, up and down; don't ever get used to things going well. This book doesn't want you to be able to stand. 

You might notice that I'm talking more about the characters and relationships than anything else about the book, which may seem like a normal thing for me as those are what I usually care about the most. Honestly, though, I'm not talking about the other stuff because I slogged through it. The action scenes were compelling enough, but the magic/dungeon/exploring the castle scenes, not so much. They felt redundant and were often too long to keep me interested. I still don't find the magic the most interesting part of the series. Luckily, it's worth reading for everything else.

The writing in Crown of Midnight is leaps above what it was in Throne of Glass. Any chapter- or section-ending sentence that started with "Celaena Sardothien" or "The King's Champion" or "The Captain of the Guard" was like an emotional bomb being dropped on the page. And that final sentence? Like I said: Crap. The whole final page? Holy. Crap.

I need Heir of Fire (the revelation that explains that title? Oh yes. Yes yes yes.) right now. 

Review: These Broken Stars

A cover that is actually 100% true to an actual scene in the book! Le gasp!

*I received a copy of These Broken Stars from Disney Book Group in exchange for an honest review.

Summary: Lilac is an heiress, a socialite, the privileged daughter of the protective founder of a company that explores and develops space. Tarver is a war-hero soldier from a modest but close-knit family, who is all but unaware of the ramifications of smiling at the pretty redhead across the room. When the spaceship in which they're hurtling through space suddenly breaks down and everyone aboard must flee to their lifeboats ("pods") a la Titanic, Lilac and Tarver end up in the same pod, crash-landing on a seemingly abandoned but strangely developed planet. They're the only humans in the entire world, but strange things begin to happen and secrets about Lilac's father's company are slowly revealed while the two of them struggle to survive.

Review: You guys, this book is what Beautiful Creatures should have been. What?, you're saying to me, Beautiful Creatures is not science fiction.

Yes, I know. That's not what I'm talking about. I'm talking about the written-by-two-authors-with-two-equally-important-protagonists thing. This book does it right. Why, you ask? Because Amie Kaufman and Megan Spooner understand that with two authors and two leads, it makes so much more sense to tell the story from two points of view. I don't know how they broke it down, if one author wrote Tarver and one author wrote Lilac, or if they split it a different way, but I don't care-- because it's obvious that they worked together on this.

The chapters alternate between Tarver's point of view and Lilac's, but you don't have that sense of constantly being jolted between the two, right when you were getting into the flow of one character's narration. It's done cohesively, and the scenes are written such that it makes sense for Tarver to narrate this scene and for Lilac to narrate that scene, or vice versa. There are no chapters where you go, man, I wish I were in the other character's head for this part, the way I did for oh, 95 percent of Beautiful Creatures, wherein every chapter is all-Ethan-all-the-time despite the fact that Lena is by far the more captivating character.

But I digress.

These Broken Stars is not your average science fiction novel. It sparkles. It's sparkly. I don't know how else to describe it. And, boys, if you're reading this, stop making that face. Sparkles do not a girly book make. There are spaceships and aliens and soldiers and vast amounts of sarcasm here, too. The girl in the dress on the cover is just that: a girl in a dress. I've never known a boy to hate girls in dresses in real life, so I'll never understand why they avoid books with girls in dresses.

The characters in this book are few, I will say, but they are vivid and dynamic and they have so many facets that you don't need any more characters. Lilac is privileged and occasionally shallow, yes, but she is also whip-smart and fiercely protective of the people she loves. She knows more about the technology of her world than just about anyone, and she's an equal match for Tarver, the war hero who knows more about survival than just about anyone. Tarver is sarcastic; he doesn't respond well to stupid questions, and his mental quips about Lilac will get you through the first half (maybe less) of the book while the two still mostly dislike each other.

My favorite thing about Lilac is that she could have been entirely selfish, having been raised in a privileged environment where she was coddled by everyone who dared to get to know her, but she isn't. She is, for the most part, selfless-- and not in that Bella way that makes her entirely useless. She has intelligence to back up her selflessness; when she needs to help someone, when for any reason someone is counting on her for their survival, she knows how to handle the situation. Girlfriend gets things done.

My favorite thing about Tarver is that he can be both amusing and serious. After Lilac treats him like he doesn't deserve to breathe the same air as her, he thinks, "Duh, I should have known," but then he thinks about it some more and decides she does not have the right to treat him that way. He's respectful to her, but condescendingly so, which I love. Not knowing her motivations for her cruelty, he has every right to mentally complain and make jokes about being stuck with this girl on a strange planet with nobody else around. But at the same time, he expertly balances the fact that she saved his life before they got here with the fact that now it's up to him to keep her alive too.

As for the plot, well, honestly there's not much of it. It's a subtle thing that creeps along and builds tension and then explodes in your face (it's a contained explosion), but for the most part of the book it's a whisper in your ear. It's something that demands your attention, but you can't really say why. All you know is that you want to keep reading. And the romance? Not really a slow-burn, but not really an insta-love situation either. Tarver and Lilac just work. They're a good team, and once they get past the I-hate-you, I-hate-you-more stage, it's actually endearing that the majority of the book focuses on their relationship.

I don't know where the next book is going from here, but I'm sure it will take me with it. I hope it shines with the same subtle intensity as this one, and I hope we get some more awesome characters like Tarver and Lilac. Sparkle on, Starbound series.

★★★★½

Review: Untold by Sarah Rees Brennan (spoiler-free)

A little story about the cover: I like my covers to match.
I was upset when I found out it would not match the first book.
I still like the original cover of Unspoken better, but am happy to accept this one.

Oh, lawd, this book broke me.

And put me back together.

And broke me again.

Several times.

What is there to say about Sarah Rees Brennan's writing that I didn't already say in my Unspoken review? The woman is hilarious. This book may be even funnier than Unspoken. But the woman is also evil, and Untold may also be even more heartbreaking.

Characters

I'm a sucker for a good character. Any good character, really. But these aren't just any good characters. You're going to wish you had a Kami Glass, Lady Sleuth, in your life. Kami is not only witty and entertaining, but she has the endearing quality of being so objective that she sees both the best and the possible worst in everyone. She's no damsel in distress, but she's not an invulnerable stone either. You're going to simultaneously want your own Jared Lynburn and hope that you never, ever get one. He's a bad boy but he doesn't really know why. He's full of anger and despair but also lightness and vulnerability similar to Kami's. You're even going to love the overly-boy-friendly Holly, who most other books would have turned into a teenaged nemesis in a frenzy of girl-hate. She's wide-eyed but also logical, friendly but also lonely. All of the characters are so beautifully complicated, I could go on and on, but I'll spare you. Just. Yes. Good.

The above is a direct quote from my Unspoken review. Every single sentence of that still applies, but this time I won't spare you. Because now I have to talk about Angela, Rusty and Ash too. I love Angela because she's a total badass without even trying-- no, really, she does not try. If there's something that Angela has to try to do, she does not do it (I had a kind friend point out that Angela and I are spirit sisters in that way). That's the Montgomery way. People are scared of Angela because one glare says she can end you and then immediately take a nap-- not because it took so much effort, but because being awake isn't really her thing. Angela likes having people scared of her, because it means they won't mess with the people she loves. Rusty is similar in that if you make him do a thing, he will request a snack and a nap. He takes exactly two things seriously: Angela and Kami. If you make one of them cry, he will punch you. And then he will make a joke about his dashing good looks and irresistible charm.

As for Ash, I was never quite sure how I felt about him before, but I know now. He is a beautiful squishable puppy dog. He is the non-Lynburn Lynburn, where Jared is the Lynburn non-Lynburn. Don't make that face at me! I am making sense!

Pacing, plot and all that good stuff

Well, I stayed up until 3:30a.m. to finish it. So.

The hacky sack

I already mentioned the breaking and the putting back together and the re-breaking. The hacky sack is back. Literary masochists, I call upon thee to preorder this book right now! You will not be disappointed! You'll laugh (a lot), you'll want to strangle some people (mostly Jared, "the most infuriating idiot in all the land"), you'll dance with glee and throw imaginary sparkles into the air because finally everything seems good and right, and then you'll realize there are too many pages left. Too many pages. TOO MANY PAGES.

And once again you'll be lying on the cold, hard ground, shaming no one but yourself because you knew SRB was trouble when she walked in. You let yourself hope for too much, and then she did that thing she does, because she gets her lifeblood from your tears.

But it was fun, and I'd do it again. And not just for the part where Jared and Ash both decide they want Rusty.

★★★★★

Review: The Dream Thieves (!!!!)

Hi, Ronan. Looking super tormented there, aren't you?

★★★★★

I'm still a little bit in shock that I got this ARC, but I will put forth a valiant effort to make this review coherent (and spoiler-free... we'll see how that goes).

Only, it's not going to seem so much like a *review* as an enumeration of the things I love about this book, this series, and these characters. Yeah? Yeah.

The Dream Thieves starts off a little bit after where The Raven Boys ended, though it doesn't specifically say how long it's been. It's summer in Henrietta and the search for Glendower is still on, though it seems all of its participants have a different reason for wanting to find the Welsh king. Adam wants to find freedom, Gansey and Blue want to find something more, and Ronan's just along for the ride-- he's got his own demons to face, anyway, related to that thing? That thing that happened? At the end of the first book? Yeah, that.

Dreams and nightmares collide with reality in The Dream Thieves, making it everything I ever wanted and feared in a book. The series takes an unexpected turn-- monsters-- but does so in a cohesive way that, instead of seeming totally out of the blue (sorry, Blue), feels right. I mean, of course there's going to be bigger magic in the second book. The first book was largely setup for this one: a small Virginia town with complicated characters who have distinct histories and personalities, with a dash of magic sprinkled in to tell you where it's all going. Book two is about taking you there and playing out the consequences of what happened in book one. And oh, are there consequences.

Dream Thieves centers much more on Ronan than Raven Boys did, and I wouldn't have it any other way (okay, perhaps I'm hoping the next book is more about Gansey. But I have a soft spot for Gansey that is currently controlling all of my thoughts). That's not to say the other characters didn't play just as big a role as they did in the first book, it's just that it's Ronan's turn for some character development. Ronan has been steadfastly Ronan, no hesitation to express his feelings with fists rather than words, and a self-hatred that ran so deep you'd need a pickaxe and a flashlight to actually see it.

If you're a Ronan fan, this is your book. He is essentially the main character this time around, and while he doesn't change so much as learn like the rest of them, his character development is staggering. Plus you learn A Thing about him that might make you go WHAT? (but if you're like me, you'll love the Thing).

Oh, and since the bad guy in Raven Boys died at the end of that book, we need a new one. And we get one. A few, actually, but I'm going to focus on the one. Because I actually love him, and not in a love-to-hate-him-because-he's-the-bad-guy way. I mean he is not just a villain but a character, with emotions and a past. He's such a character that he's barely a villain. He's so not-really-a-villain that I just replaced the word "villain" with "bad guy" twice in this paragraph. Bad Guy Boy #2, by the way, seems like he came straight from Blue's head, as he is everything she hated about raven boys before she actually knew any raven boys.

Moving on. What's that? The masses want to know about Blue's prophecy? The vision tree visions? Are Blue and Gansey going to fall in loooove? Well, suckers, I'm not telling you *George Lopez voice* NOTHING! I'll just say that, yes, there is kissing, but no, it is not what you think. Remember. Blue is sensible. She's not going around kissing boys who could die because of it. I'll also say that there were parts that made me squeal and bury my face in my hands, and immediately following the squealing came collapsing in despair, yelling CURSE THIS UNFAIR WORLD.

Which is how I like it. 

Once again the writing, setting and tone are just flawless. You've never read books like these before and you probably never will again. It's a calculated mix of creepy, mystical, comedic and gothic, which is a gross oversimplification but it almost gets the point across.

Finally, I feel like the most important thing in these books is the friendship element. The characters are so complex that their relationships have to be pretty malleable to fit all of their pieces at the same time-- and sometimes they aren't. Sometimes something breaks and someone gets hurt. But they move on. They're those friends who are so comfortable with each other that anyone else feels isolated on the outside of the bubble, looking in. They have big, explosive fights when they can't see something from the same point of view, but they're too close and they need each other too much to dwell on it. That is something I find so rare in YA lit that I want to hug Maggie Stiefvater for making these characters act like real people.

I mean, when one eats around the fruit at the bottom of her yogurt cup because she doesn't like it, another one will say, "but that's the best part!" and finish it for her. When one of them can sense that another is feeling tense, he will make jokes about pigeons to make it better. Even when two of them don't get along 90 percent of the time, they have an unspoken understanding to be there for each other because the common enemy is anyone outside the bubble. That's how it works.

Basically, I love this book as much as the first book, if not more. I haven't decided yet if I like it *more* because I've now read the first book three times and I'm so familiar with it that it feels like a part of me, while I've only read this one once and it's still a strange alien entity. Here, have a chart:

★★★★★

That is actually one million stars, but it looks like five.

P.S. The Gatsby references are still relevant.

Review: Requiem by Lauren Oliver

I don't really know where to start with this review other than to just say right now, I worship Lauren Oliver. If she ever stopped writing YA books, it would be a loss from which I could probably never recover. I worship her so much I am actually probably going to read her adult book even though adult books are sometimes the bane of my existence.

Requiem is not perfect, but it is my perfect book-- and to be honest, my main problem with it is that there was not enough of it. It's right up there with Mockingjay (appropriate, considering they're both the last book in their respective heart-pounding dystopian/utopian trilogies). Bittersweet is my favorite kind of ending-- I mean, happily-ever-after is great for books like Anna and the French Kiss, but it hardly seems fitting for series in which death and destruction run rampant.

Now, to be clear, I was terrified of this book. I've been waiting for a month to get my hands on this ARC, hardly able to contain my excitement, but the entire time an evil fear lurked underneath the excitement. I had skimmed reviews from other people who had read ARCs, and the general consensus seemed to be "unimpressed."

Now I'd like to ask those people what in the world they want. Because if there is one word to describe how I felt after finishing Requiem, it was impressed.

Allow me to start, as usual, with the characters. I shall write them in open-letter format because after the amount of time I spent with them yesterday (and have, for the past two years), I see no weirdness in addressing them personally.

Lena Haloway:

Girl, you rocked this book. Remember at the beginning of Delirium when you were totally supportive of the cure and you were like "fight back?! Pshaw, yeah right"? Look how far you've come. As much as I resent the fact that your character development was basically the entire focus of Pandemonium, I have to appreciate what it did for you in Requiem. You've finally come into your own and learned how to balance fightin' Lena with lovin' Lena. You make all the right decisions for yourself and even when I started to go all NO LENA STOP, I understood why you had to make those decisions, and my NO LENA STOPs weren't so much for you as for myself. My shipper heart could not stand by and watch certain things without getting a little riled up. But in the end, you discovered the truth about yourself and your relationships and I stopped wanting to yell. Well, I actually still wanted to yell, but this time it was YES MORE OF THIS instead of NO LENA STOP.

Hana Tate:

In Delirium, I cared about Hana Tate, Lena's Best Friend. In Requiem, I cared about Hana Tate. Parts of me want to punch you in the face, and parts of me want to hug you. How can a cured character be so complicated? You're singing the praises of the cureds one minute, and the next minute you're risking your reputation-- and, consequently, your life-- to help the family of the best friend you betrayed. The measures you take to find out the truth, to still be Hana Tate even while the countdown to Hana Hargrove is on, are a reminder of who you once were-- that they can try to mute love, emotions, personalities, but the strong ones will never be silent. I refuse to believe that you do it out of guilt. You're a jealous wench who has no idea what she wants, but you're not heartless. You're cured, but you still love. They cannot take it.

Alex Sheathes:

Poor, tortured baby Alex. I missed you so much in Pandemonium, and I still kind of miss you. I miss Delirium-you, who is in my head as full of life and hope, dashed with realism, with a sprinkle of perfect hair and a backdrop of sunlight making your entire existence glow. But alas, the worst things happen to those kinds of characters (here, ladies and gentlemen, we have another example of how similar Requiem is to Mockingjay), and Delirium-you has been buried by this new Alex with the scar on your face and the almost-black hair and the gloomy presence. And, ahem, I still love you. Because you're still Alex, you still know right from wrong, you still fight for what you believe in, and you still love Lena no matter what words come out of your mouth to contradict this. Because you understand how Lena feels and give her what she doesn't even realize she needs-- you sacrifice your own happiness for hers repeatedly (metaphorically, you let go of the baby when the other mother clings and agrees to cut it in half). Oh, and because you finally get up the nerve to look Julian in the eye when he won't even return the favor. [Spoiler: And then when you're fighting and Lena tells you to stop, you agree. Then Julian charges you off-guard and you take the fall for beating him up when he totally deserved it.] Alex Sheathes, moody looks good on you.

Julian Fineman:

Oh, Julian. I've said it before and I'll say it again: I don't like you. I didn't like you in Pandemonium and I don't like you now. But you sure did try, didn't you? You tried to make me like you. You gave Lena her space when she needed it, you gave her comfort when she needed that, and you tried to prove yourself a fighter time and time again. But you can't do these things and then prove yourself a coward time and time again, and still expect me to like you. When you refuse to look your "opponent" in the eye while he's staring directly at you, you're a coward. When you attack someone who's walking away and then go all wounded-puppy-dog when they retaliate, you're a coward. Go ahead and get offended when the rest of the Invalids still treat you like an outsider, but I don't feel sorry for you. You're a slightly less boring character than you were in Pandemonium, but the non-boring traits you've acquired are not helping your case.

Now, moving on to the plot. It was intense. Things move pretty quickly, and you don't get a lot of time to sit there and wonder where it's going. It doesn't focus too much on the relationships, and everything that happens brings the series back to the characters and setting with which it all started. Instead, the relationships are kind of a deep undertone throughout the entire plot, making all of the stakes higher than ever. This is the kind of thing that makes it my perfect book, along with...

The ending. My initial reaction was, WAIT. THAT'S IT? BUT I WANT MORE. There is easily enough room in the end for a fourth book. Not very much is actually resolved in a blatant way-- instead, it's riddled with symbolism. The future is unclear, but it no longer seems so hopeless. To me, this is the most realistic way to handle everything that's happened in the past three books: when you've got two books that end with serious clawing-at-your-eyeballs-WTF-moments, you can't very well end the third one with a neat little bow. All you can do is hope things are clear enough, and to me, they were.

And if you're wondering about the love triangle thing... Well, it was not so much a choice as a realization that one relationship just couldn't compete with the other. You could say Lena chooses, but really she just lets go of something that could not go anywhere (Again: Mockingjay, anyone?).

Oh, and the writing? I feel like thus far in my review I've been pretty good at not going all fangirly, but this is about to change. This is the part where I am 100 percent fangirl and not ashamed enough to hide it. Can someone explain to me how Lauren Oliver packs so much punch in such SMALL SENTENCES? How she uses such simple words to BREAK ME APART AND PUT ME BACK TOGETHER? THE WOMAN IS MAGICAL AND IT IS NOT FAIR. I would give examples, but it's so much better when you read them for the first time in context. WARNING: Do not stand while reading, for you may collapse. Keep sustenance nearby.

Overall Rating:

★★★★★ or 4.5/5 stars if I take away half a star because I want more of certain things. Delirium is probably still my favorite book in the series, but I feel like a good portion of my love for that book is pure nostalgia for the good ol' days in Portland with Alex and Lena and Hana and sunshine and 37 Brooks and parties and opening your eyes to good things instead of bad things.

Sometimes Jessamines make their own decisions

This post is in response to this post, which brings up some very good points.

source

But the thing is, I still mostly hate Jessamine. As a character study in the vapid and boring, she's great. (I'm being serious. She is the way she is for a reason). As a real person, even, who makes mistakes and has faults and sometimes wants the wrong things, she's perfect. But as someone that I can bring myself to like? Not so much. And that's fine. I don't need to like a character for him or her to be a good character-- that's not how it works. So let me get this out of the way: I'm not going to argue that you should hate Jessamine, or that she's a villain (she's not), but I am going to argue that maybe we're supposed to love hating her.

Jessamine is everything that was wrong with how women were viewed in the 19th century. She's got this badass streak a mile wide, and yet she pushes it down and gets more miserable every time she has to use it, because she wants to be a meek little kitten. She wants to be like all the regular women she envies because they don't have to get their hands dirty. Now, you may argue that she wants this because of society's conditioning in that time; she believes women are meant to be passive creatures because that's what The Man has taught her. But if you argue that, you're wrong. Jessamine has spent a good portion of her life in the Institute, being trained to kill demons and the like. With a parasol. She's spent all of that time with Charlotte, who has the kind of power that women so rarely saw back then, and who still manages to be a woman. Being a Shadowhunter hasn't turned Charlotte into any less of a female, so it's not like Jessamine legitimately has that to fear.

Jessamine's fear is not being accepted. And she lets it hold her back. And she judges other girls (read: Tessa) constantly for not wanting the same things as her, for wanting more than the life that's been given to them. Jessamine, she wants less than the life she's been given. She wants simplicity and domesticity and to have a man around to affirm her femaleness. Is there anything wrong with Jessamine wanting different things? No, but there is something wrong with her attitude toward it. She belittles everyone who isn't her idea of the perfect human specimen. She betrays the people who have cared for her since her parents died, the people who affectionately call her Jessie (which, you'll notice, I refuse to do), because she has it in her head that doing so will get her what she wants.

Yes, she was tricked. But at the same time, she knew what she was doing. If we pretend that she had no part in her own demise, that she was an Innocent Pawn in a Game of Evil, we're treating her exactly the way she wanted to be treated. As a passive 1878 girl who simply didn't know any better. But that's the thing-- that has never been who Jessamine is, because if it were, she wouldn't spend so much time fighting against her own life. She may not have known that Nate was never interested in her, but she did know that he was planning on handing Tessa over to Mortmain. Tessa had never done anything to warrant that, but Jessamine chose Nate anyway because she saw something in it for herself. She's selfish, and that's a quality that just does not fly with me.

And then, when Jem and Tessa go to visit her in the Silent City, she teases them. She mocks Tessa for having feelings for both Jem and Will, and she teases Jem-- Jem! Tell me, what kind of person teases Jem?!?*-- for not being able to keep his hands off Tessa on the way there. As if she has any right to talk, Miss I-Betrayed-You-All-For-A-Nefarious-Psychopath.

So yes, I do think Jessamine is a victim, rather than a villain. But I'm not just talking about what Nate did to her. She's her own victim because she brought this on herself, too.

To sum up, there are reasons to like Jessamine:

1. She usually says what she's thinking-- especially if it's snarky. (her "perfectly reasonable fear of annoying idiots" quote is one of my favorites)

2. She's a fascinating character.

3. She's not a villain.

But my reasons for hating her are:

1. She wants to be the victim...

2. ...but that's not all she is.

3. She's selfish.

4. The things that come out of her mouth fill my feminist self with such disgust that I almost want her off the page completely.

5. I almost respect her too much to label her as "poor naive Jessamine."

*Other than Will, who is allowed.

Book Review: The Evolution of Mara Dyer

It's possible that I'm not ready to write this review yet. But I'm going to do it anyway because what is the point of getting an ARC if you don't review the book?

So I'm not one of those people who usually start a review by saying how I came to own the book. What  made me decide to buy it? Did I order it online? Did I go to a bookstore and hear it call out my name? No. Nobody cares. But for this one, I feel like I have to tell you the story. Because I was not expecting it. I had resigned myself to waiting another 15 days before I could get my hands on this book, and while I was anxious, I was fine with that. I mean, Michelle Hodkin is following me on Tumblr, so I already felt kind of awesome and important, you know? So why not just wait like everybody else?

And then on Monday I got home and there were three packages on the table. One, I was expecting. The other two were mysterious. They were both from Simon & Schuester, so I did the math in my head. Simon & Schuester... publishing... hey, The Unbecoming of Mara Dyer is from Simon & Schuester... oh hey, what if this is The Evolution of Mara Dyer?! No, it can't be. It must be something else. So I opened the first package, and there, in my hands, was this glorious unexpected book that I've been looking forward to for eight months now. I jumped around and yelled "WHAT!" at least 8 times. And then I opened the other package, having no clue what to expect because why in the world would they send me two?! Well, I don't know, but they sent me two. More jumping and yelling.

I was so excited I completely forgot about my dentist appointment (the hygienist called me 3 minutes after I was supposed to be there and asked if I was on my way). I flew out the door, went to the dentist, came back, and read.

250 pages.

Suffice it to say I was hooked. Well, we saw that coming, right? Considering my review of the first book?

The next day I woke up and read. Then I went to school. Then I came home and read until I finished it. And then I was sad.

Anyway. Review. That's what this is.

Everything I loved about The Unbecoming of Mara Dyer, I also loved about The Evolution of Mara Dyer. Mara is still the deliciously unreliable narrator-- you feel like you can trust her, but there are moments of doubt. At least for me, there were times when I was like, "What if everyone else is right? What if I only believe Mara because she's the one telling the story?" Which is, like, the BEST question to ask yourself while you're reading a book or watching a movie or, heck, even listening to one person's side of a story. Do you trust the narrator just because they're the narrator? Or do you trust her because she's the only one who can tell this story correctly?

Also, I love that Mara comes a little more unhinged in this book. I'm really going to try to avoid spoilers in this review because the book isn't even out yet, so I'll just say that, well, she kind of had a right to go a little bit nuts. When there's only one person in the world who believes a word that comes out of your mouth, and you're doing things you don't remember, and you can KILL PEOPLE WITH YOUR MIND, a little bit of insanity probably comes with the territory. I say "a little" because it's not like Mara is completely off her rocker; she does have that one person who believes her. Who's going through all of it right there with her. And that's all she really needs to keep her from completely losing it.

So, Noah Shaw, you've done it again.

Thank you for not changing in this book. You're still the bad boy who smokes and swears and fights and denies no incriminating factoid. Thank you for having more layers than anyone but Mara would give you credit for. Thank you for being good at being bad, but also for being good at being good. Thank you for getting along with Mara's brothers, even when she's not around. Thank you for your arrogant, devilish grin. And thank you for hiding your fear, for never doubting Mara no matter how much the two of you doubt yourselves, for always showing up when she needs you, and for helping her be the tiger that bites when you rattle its cage.

Seriously, guys. Their relationship in this book is SO GOOD. And every time it gets to the point where Mara feels like she can't do something without Noah, and I groan a little bit, she makes herself do it without him, and I sigh with relief. She doesn't let herself be that girl, and he doesn't let her be that girl. Which is perfect. They support each other and they're better as a team, but they aren't the kind of team that falls apart when they're not together. Mara constantly feels like he doesn't need her as much as she needs him, but he shows her that it's not true, and that gives her strength. Their relationship gives her strength, hardens up her edges a little-- while it gives his edges a much-needed softening. That's called BALANCE, people!

One relationship that is worse in this book than in the first book: Mara's relationship with her older brother, Daniel. I loved how close they were in the first book, and they're still pretty close, but they're kind of keeping each other at a distance in this one. Daniel because he's worried about Mara (understandably), and Mara because Daniel doesn't believe the truth, so she can't tell him the truth. They're still always on each other's sides, but I just wish he could've been one more person who doesn't doubt her. I understand why he does, but that doesn't mean I like it. Their relationship isn't as easy and relaxed as it was in the first book.

Oh, and then there's Jamie. Yes, Jamie's back! The same old banter between him and Mara. The same sense of humor and slight anger issues, but with all new depth to his character as a fatal flaw in his worldview is exposed and we get to learn more about who he really is. My blog needs some kind of bell for !!!character development!!! so I can ring it every time something like this comes up in one of my reviews. *happydancing*

Anyway. The plot this time around is much more intricate and requires a lot more dot-connecting than the first book, which is always fun. The scenes in Mara's new "school" were a little slow for me, but not so slow that I even thought about putting the book down. Ever.

I love the new developments in this book and I can't wait to see where they lead in the next one. And THE ENDING, WHAT THE HECK. No spoilers, but I didn't see it coming. I had to reread a certain part and then I felt like it was some kind of optical illusion or mind trick, because I definitely missed the most important thing the first time I read it. Just ONE WORD changed everything. I can't even. My stomach dropped, my eyes watered, and my mouth could not form words for the rest of the night. I'm in denial (no really, I don't believe it. I'm not intentionally refusing to believe it, I just don't). And the best part is that the same exact thing happened to Mara. She had to read it again. Her eyes watered and I'm guessing her stomach dropped. And, if I know Mara, she doesn't believe it either.

Which is another thing I love about this book. Maybe I'm more like Mara than I thought, but it is so easy to go through things with her, to understand her, even considering how much you wonder about her reliability as a narrator. One second you're like "Mara, that can't really be what happened, you're telling tales," and the next second you're like, "MARA, WE NEED TO DO SOMETHING ABOUT THIS."

Overall rating: ★★★★½

I deducted half of a star because 1) Certain chapters threw me off a bit (I won't say more than that because spoilers), and 2) Daniel. But otherwise I'M SQUEALING WITH DELIGHT AND ANGST. And wondering what changed between the ARC and the final version?