This is a story where the side characters, the children, stand out more to me than the adult leads. We do get the points of views of all but it is obvious who our main characters are. Rowan, she is our star, the woman who washes ashore to a remote island. I did not understand why she did some of the things she did knowing the situation that she was in. It did not make sense to me. Also, the romance was unnecessary. I did not feel any chemistry and it was jolted upon. For a good chunk of the book we are going through cycles with the character arcs and I even believe after the events of the book the same thing will be happening. I did like the aspect of not knowing who was in the right and how that changed day in and day out or quarter to quarter while trying to unravel the mystery of the book. 

The atmosphere was my favorite part. Shearwater Island becomes a character itself rather than just the setting. I was so vividly immersed onto this Antarctic island in a world being ravaged by climate change, rising sea levels. All your senses are invoked, even your emotions are by how stunning the wildlife and scenery are that will come to your mind while reading. It’s such an ancient, eternal feeling. The island, the story, could be thousands of years ago when in reality it is in the near future.

Now let’s get to where it is confusing, the writing. I do vibe or gel well with McConaghy’s writing style itself. The words are so blunt and matter of fact but at the same time can read as lush as she builds this world around you. I do want to recommend reading this on ebook or having a dictionary nearby as some of these words are quite hefty and pretentious. There was a lack of consistency in the pacing. Rowan’s chapters could be up to thirty pages, while the others might only get one to five. It really dampened how I usually read a book. This book is short in page number but it took me a while to get through. Moving along with the pacing, the stakes would get really high and my adrenaline would be pumping and then we would wait another quarter for something to happen again. It was uneven. 

I always love when a thriller is more than just that. More than a basic plot but going into themes and ideas as well. This is a looking glass, at what could possibly be to come with the rising sea levels that we are seeing in our world. The mystery was good as you never knew who to trust. Tides are constantly changing. This is a story of grief, and how everyone’s experience with it is a different journey even if it all stems back to one event. Grief can fully take over a person. At the same time we see the lengths that love will go. Everyone’s experience is different. The feelings and emotions are different. Love can fully take over a life. Love and grief are so intertwined. 

 There are some smaller themes like where we are born and raised can shape our beliefs, our view on the world. How home is so much more than something physical. As I wrote before, this is a piece of climate fiction. This is a survival story. Surviving the battle with grief, with love, physically surviving climate change. ‘Wild Dark Shore’ has a lot going for it in these regards. I was on the edge of my seat for this one. Even if the author reused themes from ‘Migrations’, a woman with a shady past, man who also might not be as he seems, a climate ravaged world. It is similar. I thought this book was just alright as it did lack consistency.

3.75 out of 5 stars.

“I Gave You Eyes and You Looked Toward Darkness by Irene Solà is a haunting, polyphonic novel set within a single day in a remote Catalonian farmhouse called Mas Clavell, where a dying matriarch named Bernadeta lies surrounded by the spectral voices of her female ancestors . Spanning centuries, the narrative weaves together folklore, witchcraft, devil’s bargains, wars, and curses linked to a pact struck by Joana, an ancestor who traded her soul for a husband—only to discover he was physically imperfect, dooming her descendants to bear birth defects the-tls.com+5kirkusreviews.com+5ft.com+5. Through surreal time shifts and vivid, earthy storytelling, the novel explores the resilience, suffering, and defiant humor of women who have survived brutal histories, as ghosts and living voices echo the landscape’s darker legacies goodreads.com+3ft.com+3theguardian.com+3.”

I really enjoyed these characters, with Joana being my favorite. They are campy and quirky, but not in a cringe-worthy way; they almost remind me of the witches in “Hocus Pocus.” However, I want to remind you that this is a horror novel. While these women might be comedic and the story may have humorous moments, at any moment, things could snap and become creepy. It was fun to see how different bits of history, as well as the present, are reacted to by different generations. 

We see these characters through all stages of life, and as I mentioned, they can be comedic or creepy, but they also have their flaws. They are all still people. These flaws can be mental or physical; they aren’t perfect characters. In fact, I would say they are quite imperfect, which makes them all the more enjoyable to read about because I never really knew what these women would do next.

The atmosphere was definitely my favorite part. This story feels so ancient; it seems like it could have been told around a fire pit hundreds of years ago, yet it could also be told in 2024 when it was published in English. It has that fairytale, folktale vibe, and I love that because there’s always something to be learned from that kind of story.

The writing is definitely unique. It’s somewhat confusing, and I found myself puzzled while reading at times. In some instances, this style is definitely an acquired taste. Normally, I’m not someone who enjoys descriptive, long, stream-of-consciousness writing; that’s typically not for me. However, when the book is less than 200 pages, I can manage it without issue. 

Something I did notice about the writing, which might be attributed to translation, is that there were a lot of big words I wasn’t familiar with, which caused some confusion for me as well. However, I loved the allegories and metaphors used, especially at the start of a chapter where a house is used to describe the human body and how our souls and lives are contained within that body, with the body being the house for our soul. I know that sounds confusing as I worded it now, but it’s truly incredible to think about.

There are a lot of themes in this book that are prevalent, such as motherhood, religion, and the powerful influence of religion itself. You really have to be careful about how you approach and handle these themes, as you could end up cursing your legacy and everyone who comes after you. However, I think the main theme here is that everything in life has blurred lines. Reality is a blurred line. Before I read the book, I didn’t check the back cover, but this sentence on it describes the story perfectly: “A novel in which the line between the dead and the living, past and present, story and history are blurred. In it, Irene Sola draws on oral tradition as well as art, literature, and fairytales to tell a completely new kind of story.” This description captures the essence of the book perfectly. Irene Sola hit the nail on the head with that.

If that was the kind of book she aimed to write, then it’s a perfect description. We would not be here in the present if it weren’t for history, and history wouldn’t be history if it weren’t for the present. This book felt like a fever dream, and while it can be a lot to take in at the moment, as I’ve done with her other work, the more I think about it, the more I realize how impactful and thought-provoking the author’s work can be.

Now, would I recommend this book? Yes, I would. I’d like to do some comparisons: if you like this book, then you might enjoy works by authors like Mona Awad or Otesha Moshfegh, as they often explore themes of “weird girl” literature. This book made me realize that if bodily fluids and bodily functions are a part of the narrative, it’s probably going to be a “weird girl” book. For other books that remind me of “Northwoods” by Daniel Mason, which explores how a plot of land holds so much history and influences the ambiance around it, I also think of the iconic classic “One Hundred Years of Solitude.” The village in that novel reminds me so much of the house in this book, with all the little mystical things happening to the family. 

Yes, I really did enjoy this book from one of my favorite authors.

3.75 out of 5 stars

“Every Rising Sun by Jamila Ahmed is a richly imagined, feminist reimagining of One Thousand and One Nights set against the real historical backdrop of 12th-century Persia. It centers on Shaherazade—recast not just as a storyteller staving off death, but as a clever, morally driven woman confronting betrayal, wielding her narratives to influence a powerful, unruly ruler and ultimately challenge empire-sized conflicts like the Third Crusade and Oghuz invasions. Balancing sweeping historical intrigue with the magic of folklore, the novel offers both interior depth and grand political vision as Shaherazade fights for redemption, agency, and the power of her own story .”

Before we dive into the nitty-gritty of this book review, I want to state that I’ve never read “One Thousand and One Nights,” and this book is a retelling of that story. Now, let’s talk about the characters. I liked the ideas behind these characters, but I don’t think the proper work was done on their arcs. Shaherazade is our main character and the POV we follow throughout the book. It makes a lot of sense for a woman who grew up at the court of the Malik to be observant and gain power throughout the story. However, we don’t actually see that development taking place.

The whole middle of the book lags, with not a whole lot happening when the proper character work could have been done. Yes, this is about a massive journey from Persia to Palestine, covering miles and miles of land. Once we get to the last quarter of the book, there’s a sudden shift, and Shaherazade emerges as this powerful woman. While I think that transition is understandable, we, as readers, don’t see that growth unfold in the text; we have to fill in those gaps ourselves. I don’t believe that’s how books should be written. Again, I like the idea, but I just don’t think it was properly executed.

I did like the atmosphere, and I would say that was my favorite part of the book. Some of the world-building, especially in Baghdad, was very vivid and somewhat reminiscent of when we visited Essos in “Game of Thrones.” I was really intrigued by the settings, and it made me want to research all the names and groups of people that I was hearing about. However, that was also one of my problems with getting immersed in the story. I found it challenging to engage because I didn’t have a background in all these different cultures and terms. This could just be my ignorance, but I feel like a book really needs to immerse you in its world and build that world for you so you can understand it. Unfortunately, that wasn’t done here. 

On the positive side, the book did inspire me to research these cultures and this time period in the medieval Islamic world.

Let’s talk about the writing style, as it relates to my earlier point about being immersed in the story. I found myself really having to focus to grasp what I was reading in the main storyline. Shaherazade is portrayed as a storyteller, which makes sense since she tells stories that are woven into the narrative of “Every Rising Sun.” However, while trying to understand this world we’ve been thrown into, I found myself facing a fictional story within the story. I had to rearrange everything in my mind, questioning what is fiction in this world, what is real, and what important information I was supposed to take in. It was just very overwhelming for me to read.

Again, maybe if I had a better understanding of the Islamic world during medieval times, this book would have been easier for me to navigate. But I do think that the writing style could have been improved to avoid making me feel like I was being thrown from one story to the next and back again.

As I mentioned in the earlier paragraphs about the character work, this book starts out very fast-paced. It took me a little while to read because I was trying to adjust to the story, the culture, and the world-building. A lot was happening, and there was plenty of political and court intrigue, which I really enjoy in my historical fiction. However, once we reached the actual journey, it felt long, boring, and repetitive. The story was told over and over, with little scenes depicting the struggles of being on the road, such as dealing with plague, battles, and the inner turmoil between harems of women. You would think all of that would be intriguing, but the way it was written made it feel dull.

Then we get to the end, where things start to pick up again, but everything feels so sudden that it lacks the necessary buildup. All that time spent in the middle of the book felt like a waste. I felt like I wasted my time reading all of that when there could have been proper character work taking place. I do think this book lacks some logic; it makes sense how an observant girl could become powerful and how someone who immerses herself in stories and learns about the world around her could emerge as a strong woman. Yet, we don’t actually see this development; we’re just told that it happened.

This book didn’t do much for me, but I do think it could be a good historical fiction choice for those who enjoy young adult fantasy set in a desert, Middle Eastern-inspired world. If you like those themes, you might appreciate this one, but overall, I wouldn’t recommend this book.

2.42 out of 5 stars.

“A Little Life by Hanya Yanagihara is an emotional and harrowing novel that follows four college friends—Jude, Willem, JB, and Malcolm—as they navigate life in New York City. At the heart of the story is Jude, a brilliant but deeply traumatized man with a mysterious and painful past. As the years pass, the novel delves into themes of friendship, love, suffering, and the long shadows of abuse. With its unflinching portrayal of trauma and resilience, A Little Life is a devastating and profoundly moving exploration of what it means to survive.“

As always, let’s start with the characters first and foremost. I really enjoyed two of these characters: Harold, who is Jude’s somewhat mentor, and Willem, who is one of the four friends. I would absolutely have devoured this book if it had only been about Willem; I loved his story. One of the things I think this book teaches is that empathy needs to be directed towards everyone, not just a select group of people. To make the world a better place, you have to show compassion and empathy to everybody around you. That was something great about this book. Even if I didn’t necessarily love all of these characters, I could see a little bit of myself in their relatability.

Now, what did I not like about the characters? The side characters were very interchangeable, and I didn’t think they had a significant role in the story. I’m thinking of characters like Richard, Kit, Lucian, and so many more that I can’t even remember the names of because they were so underdeveloped. I don’t understand the purpose of having them in the story. Additionally, two of the college friends, JB and Malcolm, just kind of got pushed to the side. It almost seemed pointless to have these long chapters dedicated to them at the start of the book if we’re not going to follow their whole story in the same manner.

My biggest gripe, though, was that I was not immersed in the shoes of these characters. We have Jude, who is presented as being so brilliant, but I don’t understand why they felt this way. I guess it was the mystery surrounding him. Every bad thing that could happen to a person happens to Jude, which typically would make me feel despair, evoke emotions, or frustrate me to the point of anger with the book. In this case, I felt neither of those because I was never immersed in the story. Sure, I can admit that what he went through was disgusting, terrible, and just plain awful, and I did feel uncomfortable reading those scenes—if you don’t, there’s probably something wrong with you—but I never felt like I was truly put into the shoes of these characters, even if this book does a great job at depicting the dynamics between people.

Regarding the atmosphere, the vibe and tone are very pretentious. I think if you are a fan of ‘The Secret History’ or maybe ‘The Goldfinch’, then you’ll like the tone of ‘A Little Life’. But let’s talk about where and when the book is actually set. This book feels very New York City; it gets that vibe across perfectly. Now, on the back of the book, it says this is a 21st-century story. I don’t know when in the 21st century this book takes place. It feels rather timeless, as it does mention emails and phones, but we don’t have any pop culture references. Since this is in New York City, we never get, for instance, a 9/11 reference, so I’m not sure when this is entirely taking place, and that’s something we’re going to discuss a little more when we get into the writing. I don’t understand emphasizing the 21st-century setting in the synopsis if the book isn’t going to utilize that aspect.

As I mentioned earlier, the writing did lack clarity for me, particularly in terms of when the story is taking place. Mainly, as we moved from chapter to chapter, it would take me a moment to adjust and figure out whose POV we were reading from and why that particular story was being told in the format it was. However, when you step back and look at some of the passages in this book, it is beautifully written. I wouldn’t classify it as lyrical prose or anything like that; it’s more descriptive. I compared this to the works of Donna Tartt, as it has a very similar writing style—very beautiful writing—but it did get confusing at times.

The plot was good. This is definitely a character-driven story, but I loved the themes of relationships and how they shape us as individuals. This book really made me realize that we are the way we are because of the people around us. Our relationships with those people—not just romantic relationships, but also platonic and familial relationships—shape us into the humans we become. It’s honestly mind-blowing to think about. This book did such a great job at portraying all the different kinds of relationships we experience in our lives and how a friendship can spawn many other kinds of bonds with various people.

The book shows what it’s like for someone who has been through abuse and trauma to love someone else, and what it’s like to love someone who has endured such awful experiences. There has been a lot of discourse about this book in recent years. When I first got into reading as an adult, this book was very popular back in the 2010s, but in the 2020s, the tides have somewhat started to turn. There has been discussion about how it represents the LGBT community; some instances, especially in the last quarter of the book, made me feel uncomfortable regarding that depiction. However, as I am not part of the community, I can’t say for certain how well it was represented.

There’s also disability representation, and we have several characters who are people of color. Our main character’s race or ethnicity is never stated, which adds to the mystery surrounding him. There’s been discourse about how abuse is portrayed in this book. Allegedly, the author did not research sexual trauma and just went with the flow of things, which to me seems quite surprising—writing something without doing any research on it. But again, this is all just hearsay I’ve seen online. 

I wanted to note these claims about representation and the depiction of abuse because they could influence someone’s decision to read this book. I don’t think this is a bad book, but I also didn’t love it, nor did I hate it. I didn’t feel a strong emotional connection to it. This is one of the highest-rated literary fiction books on my TBR according to Goodreads and has been nominated for numerous awards. Therefore, if you do want to pick it up, maybe consider borrowing it from your library first before purchasing a copy.

2.75 out of 5 stars.

“Remarkably Bright Creatures by Shelby Van Pelt is a heartwarming novel about unlikely connections and healing from loss. It follows Tova Sullivan, a lonely widow who works the night shift at an aquarium in a small Washington town, where she befriends Marcellus, a remarkably intelligent giant Pacific octopus. Still grieving her son’s mysterious disappearance decades earlier, Tova finds her life unexpectedly intertwined with Cameron, a young man searching for his identity. Narrated in part by the witty and observant Marcellus, the story explores themes of grief, friendship, and the surprising ways lives can intersect and transform.”

I would definitely say the characters are the best part of *Remarkably Bright Creatures*. I loved Marcellus as soon as we were introduced to him, and I honestly wished we had more of him as a character. All these characters feel extremely real; they could be you or people in your life. They are living real lives without the spectacular instances you usually see in books, but it also shows how remarkably beautiful our lives are because of some very simple things and highlights the importance of the relationships we have. If you’re a fan of the found family trope, oh my gosh, you need to pick up this book because it is the perfect example of that trope. My only issue with the characters was with Cameron; honestly, I think he should’ve been aged down a little. He was very immature for being in his 30s, and some of his plotlines seemed pointless. I didn’t really like how his character arc was handled, but we do have to remember this is a debut book from the author.

I really liked the setting of *Remarkably Bright Creatures*. The town of Sowell Bay is painted so well; it’s another trope for those who are fans of small towns, and I do think you will enjoy this setting. Again, we’re seeing just normal people in normal settings like an aquarium, a grocery store, and a paddle shop. There was one weird instance, though—I could be wrong on this—but early in the book, with Cameron’s plotline, I was pretty sure it mentioned that we were in Merced, California, and later it’s constantly referred to as Modesto. I was picturing the Bay Area, but no, we’re in Central California. Again, maybe this is just something I missed or it could be a typo.

The writing was good; there weren’t any real standout moments for me, but I do think the story was conveyed well. Again, I really loved Marcellus’s chapters and just how clever they were. The only time I really struggled was with Tova’s chapters. I don’t know if it was just my headspace at the time, but during her chapters, my mind would wander off a lot. Everything wrapped up nicely at the end.However, I have no complaints about the writing whatsoever. It was good.

Now, this is not a plot-heavy book, as I stated in the first paragraph of the review. This is a character-driven story, but don’t go in thinking it’s going to be boring or that not much is happening. While not a lot is happening, I love focusing on the relationships between these characters and how you can be of different ages—you could be 30 or you could be 70—but still have the same struggles in life. Life, with all its emotions and experiences, isn’t one linear thing; it’s different for everybody. At the end of the day, we are all human—or maybe one of us in this book is an octopus! 

It was such a beautiful story of finding yourself, and that can happen at any age. Don’t think that just because you’re in your 20s and you haven’t found yourself yet that you’re a failure; you have your whole life to do so. Don’t beat yourself up. This is a story for misfits, animals and humans alike, about how you might feel like you don’t fit, but one day you are going to find that group of people you just click with. 

Another thing I loved was how animals can bring people together, even if they don’t necessarily mean to, just by being themselves. Maybe we need to be more like that as humans. Now, let’s talk a little bit about the intrigue. I did predict a lot of what would happen in this book, but I’m not upset about it because the author sprinkled in little instances early on in the story—Easter eggs—that didn’t really click into place until later, when I thought, “Oh my gosh, how did I miss that? I should have known this plot was going to unfold the way it did!” 

Even if I did predict it, the Easter egg work was fantastic. I do wish I had felt a little more emotional pull towards the story and its characters. Again, this could just be a me problem; the week I read this book was one of the craziest weeks of my life, filled with so many outside emotions, and maybe I wasn’t fully engaging with my reading. 

However, I really enjoyed this book, and it’s probably the one I found closest to the works of one of my favorite authors, Fredrik Backman. So definitely, if you like his books, give this one a go. I think it will be a great summer read. Also, the paperback came out recently. This was the highest rated contemporary fiction book on my TBR according to Goodreads. I loved this book and would recommend that you pick it up!

4 out of 5 stars