Reviewed by Frankie Martinez

A powerful story of humanity, nature, and the fight for truth.

In a world where most of humanity has fled to live deep in Earth’s underground, Violet Murphy refuses to leave her family’s farm on the surface. Located in Fulminara, one of two habitable islands left on Earth, the Murphy estate is home to Violet, her horse Firestorm, and the relics of her family’s agricultural research.

Life is peaceful until one day, officers of the government’s Science Bureau arrive to conduct the annual census and invite Violet to visit their facility underground in the capital of Apricus. What is supposed to be a presentation on the Murphy family’s developments in food generation devolves into an unsettling interrogation—one which leaves Violet drugged and imagining the voices of what she believes are trapped animals in the stark hallways of the Bureau, pleading for help.

When Violet returns home and feels an unusually close sense of comfort from Firestorm, she is convinced that the voices she heard were real.

Meanwhile, there are others experiencing a strange connection with animals. Emily Steuben, an Earth preservationist, discovers ducklings at her home for the first time in three years after being led there by other animals’ insistence. Jack Collins, a retail director, is hunting a doe on the surface when he is suddenly struck with the deer’s fear, so much that he leaves and decides to swear off hunting for the rest of his life. Mason Agu, a computer programmer for the government’s Infrastructure Bureau, is spending a quiet evening at home in Apricus, until he gets a strong feeling from his cat that something has happened next door to his elderly, beloved neighbor.

The four strangers come together after responding to Violet’s vague online forum post about a “special connection to animals” and quickly become fast friends. As their bond grows, so do their questions about the government, especially after learning about Violet’s interrogation there.

The organization’s increasingly strange activities—starting with the census and leading to the announcement that they’d be evacuating Aprica permanently for an unknown, habitable land—lead the friends to start an investigation into the Bureau, one that leads them down a dangerous path to the truth.

Imber is about the light and dark in the world, highlighting both the comfort of the bonds between living things, as well as the strength to fight against overwhelming odds.

Mistina’s debut is filled with expansive, dynamic descriptions of nature and humanity. The novel’s quiet opening is moving and immersive—Violet walks through her family’s estate, remembering the day she found a dead hawk, only to find Firestorm peeking through the windows of the greenhouse in search of Violet’s mother after her untimely death.

Mistina is also playful with her portrayal of gestures and movement. Each character interacts with one another in unique ways: Jack can’t keep his eyes off of Violet’s freckles; Mason’s deep voice contains a childlike innocence when he’s around his cat or Firestorm.

Because descriptions are so detailed and plot details are so heavily focused on the government’s secret plans, the pacing of the story can be quite slow. There is something comforting about it, especially in the first parts of the novel that are more focused on worldbuilding and the friendship between Violet, Jack, Emily, and Mason, but it also does not quite match the content in the novel’s latter half with its somewhat shocking violence. A lot of information is jammed into the last half of the novel because of this. While Imber does reach a satisfactory, open-ended conclusion in the larger story about evacuating humanity from Earth, I longed for more important plot threads between the four friends.

But that’s also because I wanted to linger in Mistina’s world for just a little bit longer without the government’s evil plans. While lies, deceit, and the end of the world run underneath the surface of the novel, Imber is a gorgeous portrait of humanity, rich with the warmth between people and their chosen companions, whether they be family, friends, or animals.

Thank you for reading Frankie Martinez’s book review of Imber by Deborah Mistina! If you liked what you read, please spend some more time with us at the links below.

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Reviewed by Addison Ciuchta

An honest & raw look at one man’s experience with schizophrenia and mental health stigma

Karl Lorenz Willett writes with honesty and hope. More like a glimpse into his mind rather than the filtered experiences you’d expect out of a memoir, this book covers a range of topics that include his financial struggles, his relationship with his wife, and his experience tapering off his schizophrenia medication.

Willett’s writing is vulnerable, sharing his deepest thoughts and real actions even if they show him in a less-than-perfect light. Which, it seems, is the whole point of the book. In his introductory chapter, Willett says he hopes to teach readers more about the condition of schizophrenia, including the lows like the stigma from society and the side-effects of anti-psychotic medications and the highs like his family, his healing, and his successes, like publishing this very book.

Chapters come with great variety. They document his experience off medication but also reach to his views on religion and the minutiae of daily life. His strength and his positivity radiate from the page. Dealing with the administrative burden that comes with mental health issues and coming to terms with some of the other low points of his life since 2016, like a one-sided romantic infatuation, only heightens his sense of purpose—which is, he says, “to spread peace, love and happiness, to encourage people to live life to the full and help others to do the same.”

At times, the writing can get repetitive with Willett explaining why he wants to taper his medication numerous times. Chapters circle back to the idea and his progress, but this repetition also helps illustrate the way his brain works without a filter. The way he keeps reassuring himself of his dedication to taper off, to the benefits he sees in doing it and the risks involved too. He is not advocating for everyone to do what he did but instead simply documenting the hows and whys of his own decision to do so.

Many chapters or parts of chapters document Willett’s deep fear of our current moment in the world: shootings, climate change, natural disasters, the COVID-19 pandemic. But still, he has hope. He writes. “I have plenty of concerns about the planet, but there are reasons to be hopeful about the world’s fate for the first time in a long time.” Despite the struggles, the stigma, and the side effects, Willett’s deep hope in himself and in the world shines through.

This book is an interesting plunge inside an interesting brain, an opportunity to experience feelings, anxiety, and mental illness out in the open. It is a touching and hopeful memoir that will give readers a deeper understanding of how mental health affects those around us.

Thank you for reading Addison Ciuchta’s book review of A Good Life by Karl Lorenz Willett! If you liked what you read, please spend some more time with us at the links below.

Thank you for reading Addison Ciuchta’s book review of A Good Life by Karl Lorenz Willett! If you liked what you read, please spend some more time with us at the links below.

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Reviewed by Timothy Thomas

An inspired commentary on life’s unpredictability and the beauty of second chances

Moment by moment, day by day, we rarely know how or when people will enter or exit our lives or how influential they could become. Our acceptance of this most erratic characteristic of life may give us the courage to embrace the unexpected changes in things, circumstances, and people, giving potential to great joy even in the midst of great loss. While not strictly a treatise on the uncertainty of life, Michael Kahn’s The Gourmet Club poignantly illustrates how our most rewarding moments and meaningful connections can be birthed from the unpredictable.

The year is 1981. Four first year associates at Chicago’s prestigious Abbot & Windsor (Gabe Pollack, Eric Cameron, Susan Baker, and Norman Greenberg) have bonded because of their chance inclusion in their orientation’s Words of Welcome presentation. Norman’s wife, Esther, comes up with the idea of a potluck dinner for the small group and their respective spouses to get to know each other. After a delightfully successful evening with great food, conversation, and entertainment, the group agrees to get together for four dinner parties a year, with each couple hosting once a year. Thus, the Gourmet Club is born.

Over the years, this quarterly tradition plays host not only to the Club’s growing friendship, but also to the navigation of major decisions, career changes, and celebrations of life. As their paths diverge, these dinner parties keep them linked together by a shared desire for and need of community that offers support and encouragement.

Though Kahn writes in his author’s note that he simply followed the lead of the characters, the narrative conveys a strong sense of intentionality and wisdom. There is a thoughtfulness in the approach to each of the main characters. Their paths connect to an overarching theme of ceaseless change and community, and this connection results in a narrative landscape that is recognizably realistic with characters to match.

The difficulty in creating such a landscape and telling a story that spans decades, however, is that details can sometimes get lost. As the story gains momentum, there are lengthy gaps in the timeline that gloss over significant moments in the characters’ lives. The narrative tends to focus more on their careers, which means that less attention is given to their interpersonal lives and the changes happening within them, like parenting and marriage.

Still, this story does exactly what it sets out to do. Armed with an eclectic cast and a thoughtfully familiar world, The Gourmet Club is a confident, engaging book that prompts a reflective look at one’s own past and a hopeful look toward the future through eyes of wonder at life’s fortuitous paths.

Thank you for reading Timothy Thomas’s book review of The Gourmet Club by Michael A. Kahn! If you liked what you read, please spend some more time with us at the links below.

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Reviewed by Shelby Zwintscher

An exhilarating international scavenger hunt for a powerful ancient relic

The Arcane Religious Knowledge and Numinous Experience Institute, ARKANE, is an international organization dedicated to solving supernatural and religious mysteries. Morgan Sierra, an ARKANE agent surrounded by loss, was recently cursed on a mission. But while paying respects to a friend who died during that same, fateful mission, Morgan receives a call about a new assignment from her partner, Jake Timber.

It turns out that an archivist at the national library archives in Vienna has found a Nazi Enigma machine containing a long-forgotten, encoded letter depicting a drawing of The Spear of Destiny. Also known as the Holy Lance, the Spear is a relic said to have been stabbed into the side of Jesus Christ during his crucifixion. It is believed to contain unimaginable power which can wield great good or tremendous evil.

While many have claimed their relics are the real Spear, Morgan and Jake are inclined to believe the Spear in Vienna could be the true, power-wielding lance due to this newly uncovered note. Written by a Nazi officer who transported this Spear fragment to the museum, the note confirms that the Spear has been “split into four pieces, as directed.”

As the Spear’s WWII historical connections are uncovered, Morgan and Jake suddenly find the museum under attack. Jericho Command, a military group under the rightwing US Presidential candidate Ezekial Stronghold, will do whatever it takes to gain the Spear fragment.

While fighting to flee the attack, Morgan has an encounter with a tattooed man who is part of this mysterious group. In their brief interaction, both can sense darkness around the other. Is this man cursed too?

The quest to find and reunite the Spear fragments begins with the personal. Morgan learns the true weight of her blood curse when her niece is hospitalized with a potential cancer of the blood. This emotional gut punch sets up a story that’s as satisfying on the human level as it is on the high-stakes plot level.

Spear of Destiny takes Morgan and Jake to archives filled with WWII artifacts, across borders and oceans, into crypts as dark as their history, as they race to find the Spear before it can be used for evil.

It’s a heart-pumping supernatural thriller that takes the reader to real locations all around the world. From Historischer Kunstbunker in Nuremberg to Potala Palace in Tibet, every historical location that Morgan and Jake visit is described in vivid detail and adds immense value for the historical fiction fan. The settings jump off the page and make the supernatural elements all the more frighteningly believable.

The settings are specific but so is the historical detail. Penn aims to satisfy in multiple arenas—from real history to real thrills to the real possibility of the occult—and does. There’s even a bibliography and details of the research at the end of the novel for those getting lost in the fascinating history.

As the 13th installment of a series, you’d think it’d be difficult to jump into as a first-time reader. But Penn takes care to sprinkle in the relevant histories of Morgan and Jake in ways that we can understand quickly and get moving.

Fast-paced, surprising, and dark, Spear of Destiny is a can’t miss thriller for fans of Dan Brown and action-packed historical fiction.

Thank you for reading Shelby Zwintscher’s book review of Spear of Destiny by J.F. Penn! If you liked what you read, please spend some more time with us at the links below.

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Reviewed by Andrea Marks-Joseph

Queer Black women float, grieve, steal, sweat, and fight back in this thrilling connection of stories that put us first.

“Daisy’s mother tells her ways to stay safe, but they all come off as futile superstitions… Don’t go anywhere silent and gentle; leave marks, bite marks, claw marks, anything that can be evidence later.” In the first and titular tale of this short story collection, we meet Daisy, a young woman who can’t shake the disturbing truth of being a potential victim of violence every day of her life simply by existing. She “thinks of every pair of eyes that could have ever possibly raked across her body,” and does everything she can think of to make herself undesirable, to make people turn away from her. She stops washing and begins avoiding eye-contact, attempting to inspire disgust and disinterest as a means of self defense. It’s a desire every woman faced with these truths has considered, incorporating preventative tactics into our lives—knowing that nothing will ever be enough to protect ourselves from the ever-present threat of gender-based violence, but desperately needing to do something to try. 

As I write this review, there’s a collective sense of fear and hopelessness settling over women of color in South Africa, where I live, because of a recent murder of a young woman. But we still have to go to work, buy groceries, make our parents proud, fall in love. This is a reality for Black women: the reality of dating, the reality of being a mother, a daughter, a wife, a teenager who has a crush, the reality of living life day to day against the already crushing backdrop of classism, racism, and the infuriatingly familiar “quirks” of being noticed in public as Black and queer and whatever specific quality is all your own. 

Author Demree McGhee said “society’s violence against us is hell, but we deserve great fiction”—and gives us twisted, twisting tales that pull us in and take us on a ride we couldn’t possibly see coming. These stories are all so soaked in queerness and Blackness that the identity of our protagonist is always undeniable while they’re on myriad fictional rollercoasters.

Sympathy for Wild Girls explores class consciousness in young people; the tormenting shades of toxic masculinity; the delicate folds of female friendship; and the concept of desire as danger, as a road to death (threaded firmly and fiercely into many of the stories but also captured brilliantly by this line: “I didn’t know what to do with my body when it wanted. I only knew how to smother and scream in place of desire.”) 

Demree McGhee captures the elusive truth behind conversations between teenage girls, both filled with awe and simmering with heavy notes of comparison. She conveys the visceral sensuality of another woman applying your makeup while unpacking the difficulty in seeing the true shape of your body and face after years of avoiding yourself. She also writes about the sense of wonder in seeing women who seem completely unburdened by such concepts: “She sat in her body as if she was the only one who ever had to look at it.”

Sympathy for Wild Girls does a great job on the politics of smell too, introducing us to realistic women who do everything they can to avoid their own bodily odor and those who go to extreme lengths so that the women around them will never know they sweat. There’s a dissection of femininity and wealth inequality in every mention of odor, the author exposing the sick influence of generations of impossible, nonsensical hygiene standards on Black women in particular. McGhee also writes insightfully (and disturbingly) about memory, dreams, and the role of scent in building our futures. “I had worked retail jobs since I was thirteen, and most of them left me with some new fear or sense of disgust. I associated the smell of sizzling meat with scraping spit-logged gum off the bottom of tables in my parents’ restaurant. I was a vegetarian until my freshman year of college.”

While occasionally leaning into the speculative, these stories are deeply rooted in reality, introducing us to women whose lives are as complex as our own, women who could very easily be our neighbor, our co-worker, the woman we recognize from the coffee shop every weekday morning, or the daughter of the family who suddenly stopped coming to church last year. 

In Sympathy for Wild Girls, runaways meet religious groups with a strong social media following and a strict idea of cleanliness in the eyes of the Lord. The author writes all of this so beautifully, offering up moments of contemplation on something otherworldly before turning the volume on real life all the way up again—I’m talking about lines that felt like a sledgehammer to my solar plexus: “My mother always wanted me to be grateful for things she didn’t do to me.” And phrasing like a mother describing the idea of her baby looking just like her with the words “She felt like a mirror I pulled from my body.”

In “She Is Waiting,” we meet Ava, who began to float (needing to constantly weigh herself down with rocks to stay on the ground) after she was kidnapped from the park and held captive for a week. She was rescued, but the kidnapper was never identified or caught. Ava, who “woke up in the air, the bedsheet draping her body like a tablecloth, haunting her own bed.” Ava, who is so lonely while grappling with the complexity of surviving the kidnapping, enduring flashbacks and feeling like she’s back in that moment years after everyone’s moved on around her. 

One of my favorite stories, “Butterfruit,” weaves together the stigma and societal shifts in the acceptable frequency of hair washing, depending on whether you’re white or Black, rich or poor. Demree McGhee brilliantly incorporates threads of the main character’s compulsive coping methods—which involves both cleanliness and inhaling cleaning products (“I didn’t have real faith in anything that didn’t have the power to physically change what it was touched, the way bleach made a room simmer with absence” “I sprayed my sheets until they were wet with Lysol. I drenched my windowsill in Fabuloso, wiped my fingerprints off every surface, and got dizzy off the scent of being washed away”)— and contrasts it against her counterpart, who is part of the church’s social media team, branded ‘clean’ in all the visible forums, but messy in her secrets that begin to spill over. This story should be taught in schools! I can’t help imagining the lively discussions that the many vibrant and vital topics this story touches on will inspire in students. There are many twists in this one, and there’s a reveal that made me gasp out loud.

I’ll be thinking about “Throwing Up in a Gated Community,” the devastating story about two girls of very different social and economic classes, who fall into an intimate friendship the way many teenage girls (and many, many queer girls) do, for a long time.

Sometimes McGhee hits these poetic and thought-provoking endings that feel wholly satisfying, while other stories are concluded midway through their unraveling—when things are about to turn inside out and collapse. It’s like someone closing the door on us right as the conversation we’re eavesdropping on gets really juicy. They are not necessarily abrupt endings that leave the stories feeling unfinished but ones that leave the reader with meaning instead of resolution. Even this is testament to McGhee’s immersive writing, because each time this happens, I sat for a few minutes with all the possibilities I was sure would happen next, imagining all the ways the protagonist would mess it up or get into trouble. I always wanted more.

One of the stories that provides a reflective yet mysterious conclusion, and certainly one of my favorites of the book, is “Exchange,” following a young couple who shoplifts regularly while grocery shopping. They fall into a sweet but blurry-edged domestic polyamorous relationship with a store employee who approached them to say she’s watched them steal for a full year and wants to learn their ways, wants to get to know them. Her presence reinvigorates their relationship with each other, and for a moment in time they are thriving as a trio. But then the temptation of stealing a big-screen TV comes between them and everything they were once sure of changes in a blink.

Sympathy for Wild Girls is a book about how “the men who seek girls’ bodies like flowers to yank from the ground” have shaped generations of women, young and old. These stories explore the systemic and inescapable violence Black women are born into and how it floods into every aspect of their lives, from their self-actualization to their friendships with other women. In addition to the difficult themes I’ve mentioned above, readers should note that many of these stories include descriptions of the both the actions and mindsets of characters who experience: suicidal ideation; child abuse and neglect; domestic violence; unwanted pregnancies; abortions; a kidnapping and time in captivity; and animals being killed and dismembered. 

Demree McGhee depicts the way grief climbs into your bones and reacts chemically with the core of who you are. There are multiple stories focused on compulsive behavior, exploring body dysmorphia and disordered eating, including anorexia, bulimia, and hypergymnasia: “I would excavate the weight from my body until the bones of my throat, my shoulders, my hips breached the surface of my skin. I would carve myself into something gorgeous from all angles.”

I highly recommend Sympathy for Wild Girls for readers of color and especially queer readers of color, who will find that reading it feels comfortable in a way that is so rare. It’s effective, electric storytelling that hits different because it’s you on the page. There’s a thrilling additional level of unsettling achieved in the way the author pulls at threads she knows will make us squirm. Sympathy for Wild Girls is a privilege, an honor, a gift to the community, and a captivating collection I’d be proud and excited to recommend to friends, family members, and fans of Dr. Ally Louks. 

Thank you for reading Dr. Ally Louks’s book review of Sympathy for Wild Girls by Demree McGhee! If you liked what you read, please spend some more time with us at the links below.

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Reviewed by Eric Mayrhofer

Chip Cater’s short stories shine with compassion, wisdom, wit, and warmth

Memories don’t play out like feature-length movies. They happen in flashes, fits, and starts. Sometimes a memory can bubble up to the surface of your mind with a very clear point, and sometimes they ramble or roll by for no other reason than to remind you of something pleasantly familiar.

Those are characteristics that Chip Cater’s collection Capers and Switcheroos embodies beautifully. Transforming his memories into short stories, he lets readers into his mind and gives them the joy of experiencing his admiration and love, his childhood mischief, and the quiet humility that comes with age.

And it truly does feel like each story is a little door into Cater’s mind. That’s partly due to flourishes like the quick, easy nicknames that pepper his writing. When recalling his wedding in “Blue Velvet,” the opening story, he says, “We were married in the Congregational Church, which stands on the hill over the tiny string of stores and restaurants in Wellfleet. The Congo’s tall steeple towers over the town and is what you aim for when sailing back in from the outer reaches of Wellfleet harbor.”

Those small but irreverent choices, nestled in an otherwise matter-of-fact tone, help readers see that Cater doesn’t take life too seriously, even as he regards it with a sharp eye respectfully studying everything it lands on.

That matter-of-fact voice could also be called openness—even earnestness. In the same story, Cater’s wife winds up having to change into a borrowed dress, a dazzling blue number with sparkling stones. The incident is briefly the talk of the restaurant, and when Cater and his wife leave, “twelve to fifteen ‘fans,’ who had watched the drama unfold, rushed up…They wanted Mary’s autograph. After the scenes in the bar and dining room and the changes of costume, they were positive she was a celebrity. She still is.” Then later, in the story “Something Noticed,” he and Mary find themselves in Vietnam and notice there are no birds; the Vietnamese ate them into scarcity due to food shortages that began in the Vietnam War. Upon returning home, Cater reflects, “We have hundreds of beautiful birds, many of whom sing…it is our palette and our symphony.”

In just a few words, Cater reveals so much: his bounding love for his wife Mary. The couple’s quiet awareness of all their blessings, humble in the knowledge that so many have far less.

There are one or two stories that err on the rambling, rolling side of memory. “Saved by the Belle,” for example, may luxuriate a little too long in the technological details of early digital publishing for some. Even then, however, readers glimpse our narrator’s open-hearted kindness as he remembers a workplace rival. “Dan left and went to our largest competitor,” Cater writes. “He did well and we stayed in touch over the years…we had a shared interest.” Even in adversity, obstacles never become permanent barriers to good relationships, politeness, or decency.

Capers and Switcheroos is a quietly moving piece, a comforting blanket of a short story collection.

Thank you for reading Eric Mayrhofer’s book review of Capers and Switcheroos by Chip Cater! If you liked what you read, please spend some more time with us at the links below.

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Reviewed by Addison Ciuchta

Medical disinformation meets a mysterious cult in this tense medical thriller

Mark Lin is a hospitalist, a doctor who works on patients admitted for further care from the emergency department. Dr. Lin’s workload is light when the novel opens, discharging a patient and monitoring a few others on a typical day.

That afternoon, however, the patient he discharges, Shannon Dixon, calls him from the waiting room of an OB/GYN clinic to ask Dr. Lin follow-up questions. While on the phone, though, Dr. Lin hears a commotion and then an explosion. The OB/GYN has been bombed by an unknown person.

Dr. Lin tells police what he heard and tries to resume business as usual, traumatized by the sounds he overheard. Then a new patient says something eerily similar to a phrase he heard the attacker say, and soon Dr. Lin finds himself investigating a mysterious cult that seems to be putting multiple members in the hospital.

The medical cult in this thriller is particularly intriguing due to its relevance to modern society. Called the Path to Purity, the cult puts its members through strange trials to prove their commitment and discipline, all in the hopes of catching the attention of the Sun Priest and achieving true purity. It’s notable and impactful that those drawn into it are vulnerable, frustrated people looking to feel better, to be healthier, or just to be happier. It’s easy to understand why they were drawn into the cult’s grand promises, why they end up doing horrible things to their bodies in the hopes of moving up the ranks to achieve “purity.”

At times, Dr. Lin’s actions are difficult to relate to, especially as he gets deeper into the cult and, without spoiling anything, in two fairly critical moments when he knows violence will put innocent lives at risk, he doesn’t attempt to warn anyone or tip off the authorities. Instead, he tries to fend off the threats himself. In fact, most of the book, he doesn’t let the police know what he knows, instead investigating the Path to Purity by himself even when he knows it could lead to a tragic end for him and, with him, an end to his knowledge of what was actually happening. However, his intentions are good and it is easy to root for him, even if his actions aren’t always entirely logical.

The pacing is good, especially for a long book, with the tension escalating as Dr. Lin is pulled deeper into the Path to Purity and as more and more patients turn up at the hospital needing care as a result of the cult’s practices. The author’s medical knowledge shines in this book, with creative and detailed explanations of the consequences of the cult’s bizarre trials.

Toxic Minds is a unique thriller with a modern take on the dangers of medical disinformation.

Thank you for reading Addison Ciuchta’s book review of Toxic Minds by Anthony Lee! If you liked what you read, please spend some more time with us at the links below.

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Reviewed by Timothy Thomas

A thoughtful narrative contemplating the impact of loss & abandonment on faith and the possibility of redemption in its death

Saint Catherine of Secaucus is a moving work of literary fiction from author Ann King that investigates the effects of naïve faith in one’s youth and the life-altering consequences of losing that faith.

King’s pragmatic prose reveals an intimate knowledge of the thoughts, emotions, and internal conflicts that come with the disillusionment of one’s beliefs and the abandonment of a parent, taking a novel that is ordinary in its concept to extraordinary in its execution.

As a child, Catherine Ricci was among the most faithful and idealistic students at her Catholic school, having been inspired by Sister Alberta’s example to such an extent that Catherine herself aspired to the sisterhood. The unfortunate and untimely death of her beloved Sister, however, triggers the end of that dream and, in addition to her parents’ separation, the slow demise of her faith.

By the time she enters high school, she considers herself agnostic, much to the chagrin of her mother and her Aunt Grace, who, though stuck in a passionless and abusive marriage, nevertheless cling to the hope of her Catholic beliefs. The collapse of Catherine’s religious convictions and the bitterness toward her father is accompanied by a growing apathy that strains the relationship with her mother in her teenage years and creates a void of meaning and direction in her life. But when an attempted rape turned manslaughter incident catches up with her in college, her life takes an unexpected turn that brings God back into focus, challenging her agnosticism and apathy as she uncovers new meaning.

Saint Catherine of Secaucus is perfectly paced, grounded, and moving. Catherine’s blunt, focused narration is honest, rarely exaggerating events or details for the sake of storytelling, but still managing to add color to the story with its realism. If a good story is not only in its concept, but in how it is told, then Saint Catherine undoubtedly bears the mark of a good story.

The book also excels in its portrayal of people. Its cast of characters, from Catherine’s Aunt Grace to her high school crush and protester extraordinaire, Gerald, are vividly multidimensional, as though written from memory. Catherine herself is revealed to have quite a bit of depth, as her introspective analyses of the circumstances of her life are both reasonable and measured. Though she may struggle at times with the conclusions she has drawn, her rationale for them is often very understandable.

Ann King’s novel invites us to think more deeply about our lives and how the easily explained and unexplainable converge to generate questions that may challenge our thinking. This book may not give us direct answers to our most-searched questions, but it does provide an engagingly accessible jumping off point for our discovery of truth. A truly worthwhile read.

Thank you for reading Timothy Thomas’s book review of Saint Catherine of Secaucus by Ann King! If you liked what you read, please spend some more time with us at the links below.

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Reviewed by Jaylynn Korrell

A spy mission, high-stakes competition, and a satisfying story of girlhood

Simone LaFray is a spy, a singer, a chess player, and the teenage daughter of a world famous chocolatier. Just as she gets settled back into her impressive lifestyle in Paris, Simone and her mother are called in for a new assignment at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs.

The OmniKey, a device of extreme importance to their superior (Eloise), isn’t working properly, and it’s up to Simone to persuade the only person who can fix it.

This is the third book in a series following Simone, and it picks up right where book two ends. With an impressive balance of action and drama, S.P. O’Farrell captures the essence of preteen girlhood with flair and expert espionage. It’s what preteen dreams are made of.

Simone LaFray and the Bishop of Mumbai is a winning combination of the Spy Kids series and The Queen’s Gambit. Simone is competing for the Junior World Chess Championship while she’s juggling a larger spy mission. Spy teens almost always hit the mark for me, but Simone also leads a fascinating life both in and outside of her missions. You’ll be all in by the time you finish the first chapter.

I can’t think of a single preteen girl who won’t want to be in Simone LaFray’s shoes. She’s practical and successful and hard working, but she also saves time to enjoy herself. Her best friend, known as “the V,” balances out Simone’s serious nature with fun-loving quips and an endless list of things to talk about. When the V goes on about her first boyfriend, Simone is reminded that they aren’t just little girls anymore. Growing up is closer than it’s ever been.

Mumbai is the big adventure in this installment. At the Junior World Class Chess Championship, she’s tasked with finding a boy known as the Bishop, whose intelligence can help her superior Eloise get out of a sticky situation.

But things don’t go to plan when in Mumbai. She soon finds out that the Bishop isn’t anything like she imagined him to be. After talking to him briefly, she begins to question everything she’s ever known and the people she’s supposed to trust. The dynamic between the two is thrilling, and their interactions make up some of the best scenes in the book—a tall feat for a story involving a teen spy! There is so much on the line for both of them. The Bishop desperately wants to find his parents, and Simone feels pressure to complete the mission successfully; combined, their narrative provides a real edge-of-your-seat kind of reading experience.

O’Farrell succeeds not only in high-tension espionage storytelling but characterization. Simone isn’t only a spy trying to save the day, she’s also a lover of chess and an easy-to-root-for human; her partner on this mission, Harper, is complex and interesting too. Each character is given enough background through intentional dialogue and backstory that you’ll empathize with all of them.

Simone LaFray and the Bishop of Mumbai is a standalone too! Two books come before it and more will come after it (I hope), but readers get an exciting, satisfying story all on its own—along with two previous books to enjoy right after finishing this one.

Thank you for reading Jaylynn Korrell’s book review of Simone LaFray and the Bishop of Mumbai by S.P. O’Farrell! If you liked what you read, please spend some more time with us at the links below.

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Reviewed by Toni Woodruff

A meaningful story about the equilibrium of our planet

Harry the High’s got the good stuff. He brings the sunshine and warm weather. He’s responsible for the kind of perfect summer days that every kid dreams about—the ones filled with swimming pools, popsicles, and playing outside.

Larry the Low, meanwhile, brings the bad weather. The rain, the harsh wind, the destructive storms. He may as well be the inspiration for the song, “Rain rain go away, come again another day.”

But Harry the High thinks the Larry the Low should never come back again. He even tells Larry that nobody likes him and that he should leave forever, so that’s just what Larry the Low does.

Without Larry, Harry learns that he’s capable of bringing his own destruction. Things get too hot on Earth. Crops and vegetation dry out and die, and people are in danger. It’s Mother Nature who must step in and assure these weather heroes that they’re both needed. Playing the role as the sensical judge, Mother Nature explains that the world is an equilibrium of highs and lows, of ebbs and flows, of rain and shine.

The book imparts an important, relevant message for all kids. It’s easy to see gray, rainy days as wasted hours stuck inside, but this bookillustrates just how much we need both to keep a healthy ecosystem. We need rain like we need sun. Parents will be glad to have this book to discuss why gray days happen and why they don’t have to be seen as purely disappointing.

But the book’s art stands in the way of making best use of this story. Characters’ bodies get warped, sometimes to the point of being unrecognizable, and scenes appear as nonsensical, like random shapes in the background or sweat dripping down a t-shirt. The art styles change from page to page, too. More observant kids will notice issues like Mother Nature’s incomplete spectacles, Harry’s smudging face, and background characters without clearly defined faces.

Harry the High is also pretty darn cruel. He tells Larry that he sucks and that he should disappear forever. While meanness like this is real, it could also be introducing younger kids to the language they could use to really hurt another person’s feelings.

In the end, Harry the High Versus Larry the Low comes with a strong message. This book could be a good choice for parents looking to pair nonfiction topics of weather and science with a useful story about the delicate balance of rain and shine.

Thank you for reading Toni Woodruff’s book review of Harry the High Versus Larry the Low by Alan Champlin! If you liked what you read, please spend some more time with us at the links below.

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