Book Review: (Con)Science by P.J. Manney

By Tyra Forde

Content warnings: Graphic descriptions of suicide, violence involving children, domestic violence.

(Con)science by PJ Manney is the satisfying conclusion to the Phoenix Horizon trilogy, for which its debut earned Manney a Philip K. Dick Award nomination. The gritty series presents a global future where biotechnology and humanity are at odds. Manney expertly weaves imagination and intelligence as she blends fiction with fact in her exploration of how technology will affect our collective future, a topic that she is a consultant on, in addition to writing various articles and essays. In the series, she examines the impact of digital lives on psychological identities in what is summed up in (Con)science as “a war of self-definition.” 

The novel opens with a digital family tree of sorts that reminds readers not only of the various identities the main character, Peter Bernhardt, and others have amassed in the previous two novels but also informs them of the identities to come. These identities include human, robot, and artificial human intelligence. Scene breaks keep the reader up to speed as the novel jumps between various points of view.  

Another welcome addition to the novel, and a Manney signature, is the inclusion of a playlist. Not only does it include the music that inspired the author, but also the music that directly impacts the main characters who listen and process information through music. While set in the future, Manney grounds the series with well-known music and lyrics that make this technological dystopia feel even more like a possibility. “Miami 2017 (Seen the Lights Go Out on Broadway)” by Billy Joel and the Beatles/George Harrison rendition of “While My Guitar Gently Weeps” are two particularly chilling songs in the story. 

The third and final novel in the series picks up five years after the first book. Formerly human scientist Bernhardt is now artificial human intelligence, but another AHI and descendant of Peter, referred to as Major Tom, is trying to rebuild a world changed forever by technology. The only problem is that Major Tom is the force pulling the world apart in the first place. What results is a race to rewrite history and save humanity, but the various identities of Peter and his descendants will require him to determine not only what it means to be human but also what it means to be unique.  

Despite being just under 400 pages, (Con)science feels like a journey at warp speed as the world begins to crumble. Manney makes the most of every page and manages to differentiate each character and their various identities with ease. The novel provides a clever balance of endings and beginnings, and despite being the series conclusion, the story leaves readers hungry for more. A journey of ethics built on music and technology makes for an unforgettable exploration of human identity. 

*Thank you, Wunderkind PR, for the complimentary copy in exchange for an honest review!

Book Review: Winterkeep by Kristin Cashore

By Meghan Mazzaferro

Content warning: violence, gore, murder, emotional manipulation, child neglect, child abuse, forced starvation, torture, animal abuse

Note: While categorized as young adult fantasy, this book features sexual content and explores sexual relationships between younger people in both positive and negative ways. 

Winterkeep is the fourth book in the Graceling universe and it follows a number of returning characters, as well as new faces, into a new era. The Seven Kingdoms have changed since the Graceling series began, and the world is much vaster. Bitterblue, Queen of Monsea, seeks to establish diplomatic relations with the countries on the other side of the world. The two sides of the globe have only recently met, and Bitterblue is one of the first monarchs on the Royal Continent to express her interest in learning from Winterkeep and its neighbours’ new forms of government, education, and technology. 

However, after Bitterblue discovers that two of her advisors were murdered while attempting to provide her with information about a valuable resource that Winterkeep and its neighbours have an interest in, she journeys across the sea to investigate. At the same time, Lovisa, the daughter of Winterkeep’s president and the leader of the opposition, makes it her mission to spy on all those around her, especially her parents. When her parents start acting strangely, Lovisa’s curiosity puts her right into Bitterblue’s path and thrusts them both into a controversy far bigger than either of them could imagine. 

This book feels drastically different from Graceling. The writing style is quicker and more modern, the narrator seems to be closer to the minds of each of the characters, and the world no longer feels like the fantastical, medieval world of Katsa’s day. Instead, the story is rife with complicated politics and industrial technologies. While it took me a second to adjust to this new tone and pace, I commend Kristin Cashore; her ability to adapt her writing style to meet the settings of her books while still making the world feel familiar and cohesive is astonishing. The inclusion of familiar characters like Giddon and Bitterblue help bridge the gap as the reader gets to experience the new, more modern world through their eyes and experience their astonishment. 

The plot of this book takes its time to get going, as characters slowly notice the subtle hints and clues that something might not be right. And yet, much like with Graceling, the book never feels slow. The reader is presented with just enough information to leave them wanting more, and the pacing of the book works perfectly to allow for a gradual reveal of just enough truths to keep the reader engaged. Once things get moving, the twists and turns don’t stop, and the second half of the book is impossible to put down. 

While the plot of this story had me hooked from the very first chapter, the reason this book stands out to me is the characters. Lovisa is incredibly compelling: a complicated, nosy, angry girl whose world is completely shattered and pieced back together. Her struggles in this book are impossible to resist, and they help ground the story in the personal. Bitterblue is another incredibly compelling character, and it was moving to see her growth from the character she was in Graceling to who she is in this book, and to see her work to be to Lovisa what Katsa was to her. All the side characters in the story are strongly developed and unique, and they give the new setting of Winterkeep a life and vibrancy that sets it apart from the other settings in the series. 

While this book is vastly different from Graceling, it is not something that can be read alone. Winterkeep is strong on its own, but it exists on a foundation of the rest of the series, whose worldbuilding and characters work to both complement and contrast with this newest installment. But do not be daunted! Yes, there are four books in the series, but each is unique and stunning in its own way and all four can be bought in paperback with matching covers! Which, as we all know, is almost as important as what the book’s actually about. 

Joking aside, Kristin Cashore is one of the most unique young adult writers I have ever encountered. Her entire Graceling series is a work of art, with this newest installment takes the series to vaster, more intricate and stunning heights than I ever could have imagined. If you are a fan of rich, immersive fantasy worlds with a wide cast of complex characters and winding, scheme-filled plots, this is the series for you. 

Thank you to Penguin Random House Canada for the complimentary copy in exchange for an honest review.

Book Review: A Hero of Our Time by Naben Ruthnum

By Carly Smith

In A Hero of Our Time, Osman Shah works at an EduTech startup. He and one of his colleagues, Nena, work closely together. The two not only tag-team work projects, but also obsess over another colleague named Olivia Robinson. Olivia is a high-up overachiever whose past is questionable and whose personality is thrilling to try to understand. Superficially, Olivia aims to expand diversity in her workplace, but in reality she has a strong desire to gain as much power as possible. The plot of A Hero of Our Time had the potential to be exciting and thought-provoking but fell short, leaving me unsatisfied.

Osman is a thirty-eight-year-old man whose strong work ethic has landed him a role at a successful EduTech company. His father, with whom he had a tumultuous relationship, is deceased, and his mother, with whom he shares a unique connection, is slowly declining in her health. With his mind often on work, even when he is not on the clock, Osman fascinates himself with colleague Olivia: she is fierce, manipulative, insincere, and will stop at nothing to move up in the EduTech world. Osman, with the help of other colleagues, works hard to find out as much as possible about Olivia, stay several steps ahead of her at all times, and subsequently dismantle her role and her power.

I enjoyed the main storyline in this book. At times it was refreshing, made me second-guess my predictions, and, in general, it covers a subject which should be brought into light more often which is the act of people and businesses creating a diverse panel not for genuine inclusion and diversity but just to look good on paper. However, I struggled to finish the book for several reasons. First, I had difficulty picking up a particular tone from the characters . They had flat interactions with one another and it was difficult for me to capture their passions, happiness, and emotions. This left me reading the pages robotically and I was therefore unable to get fully immersed in the chapters. Second, I found Ruthnum used too many descriptors, so that the language became awkward, and it was hard to know which parts required the most concentration. Overall, it was challenging to connect with the main characters and empathize, two things that I find very important when reading a piece of fiction. 

Thank you to Penguin Random House Canada for the complimentary copy in exchange for an honest review.

Book Review: You are Eating an Orange. You are Naked. By Sheung-King

By Larissa Page

I was first intrigued by this book when it made it onto the longlist for Canada Reads in 2021. With its incredibly unique title, it’s a book I’ve wanted to pick up for the past several months. I am so glad I got to read it before the end of 2021. 

This book is a quick read—it isn’t too long and by the end I wasn’t quite ready for it to be over. It follows the narrator through some experiences he had with a lover over the course of three years within their home in Toronto, through Hong Kong and Macau, and in Prague. The lover, who remains unnamed, is Japanese and our narrator is Chinese. Within their experiences together and with the narrator alone, there is much dialogue on the Western take on “Orientalism” as well as on the dynamic their relationship takes on.

Perhaps my favourite parts of this novel were the folk tales the couple tells each other throughout the story. The tales were unique and meaningful themselves, but because the characters were telling the tales to each other, there was also simultaneous commentary on them. Often in novels where additional stories or tales are told, they are set apart from the narrative. I really liked how in this case the lover would interrupt the narrator in the midst of the story to comment or ask a question.

The characters of the narrator and his lover were well described, though not always likeable. Personally, I sometimes struggle when characters aren’t likeable, but not everyone we meet in life is likeable and this book reflects that reality. When characters are more real there is also a chance for redemption in the eyes of the reader, which I also appreciated here. 

I believe this novel was meant to be a peek into the world, lives, and feelings of the characters for a finite amount of time and for that reason I am both sad and okay with the fact that it ended before I got the closure I wished for. I wish I knew what happened next, but in this case we get to decide for ourselves how the story progresses once we are finished reading it.

Thank you to Book*hug Press for the complimentary copy in exchange for an honest review.

Book Review: Because Venus Crossed an Alpine Violet on the Day That I was Born by Mona Høvring

By: Fayth Simmons

Because Venus Crossed an Alpine Violet on the Day that I Was Born by Norwegian author Mona Høvring (translated into English by Kari Dickson and Rachel Rankin) won the Norwegian Critic’s Prize for Literature, was a finalist for the Norwegian Bookseller’s Prize, and was included on numerous critics’ Best of 2018 book lists. In a first-person narrative, with an alternating timeline from past to present day, inclusive of flashbacks to childhood, a tale of two sisters is told, set against a fairy-tale-esque Scandinavian backdrop. 

Martha and Ella are very close in age, separated by just a year, and were very close in their younger years—until Martha left unexpectedly with a man whom she had supposedly fallen in love with. This abrupt separation is difficult for Ella, and she finds herself feeling slightly unhinged, as though her sense of self has been set off balance by the absence of her elder sister. Martha soon returns, however she is not the same person that she was at the time of her departure. After Martha spends some time in a hospital due to a breakdown, it is suggested that Ella accompany her for a stay at a hotel high up in a mountainous village. This hotel serves as a new and common ground where the two girls re-evaluate their relationship after an extended period of no real communication. 

Though this is a story of two sisters, serving as an exploration of the dynamic and sometimes difficult nature of relationships, it may also be classified as a tale of memory, attachment, and belonging. Both Ella and Martha are prominently featured throughout, but there is a definite focus upon Ella, and events are told from her perspective. The novel is largely descriptive of an internal monologue, as Ella works to understand her sister and the reasoning behind her seemingly untenable actions, but most of all she works to understand herself outside of her identity in relation to Martha. Ella’s stay at the hotel allows a window of time for self-reflection, and for the summation of twenty-two years of wondering and wonderment. As a whole, the narrative serves as a very thematic and well-versed exploration of crucial and contemporary themes (e.g., mental health, identity, relationships).

This is a short novel, and as such, characters are portrayed in their individuality but without full explanation; instead, the author leaves room for wonder—the reader is left to assimilate the knowledge of what is with all that is hinted at through word, action, or symbol. And there is a lot of symbolism. For all that the narrative is objectively based upon the relationship between sisters, the conversation is little and the internal thoughts are more. With limited speech and action, those that do occur are worth so much more. The significance of the barbershop, Ella’s chance meeting with the Salvation Amy soldier, and the presence of the graveyard alongside the chapel are all left to be considered. 

In addition, there is a whimsical, almost magical undertone to the narrative, which pays homage to  fairy tales. There is also an underlying aura of mystery—of vague enchantment and constant soft bewilderment. The mountains act as a beautiful mystery unto themselves, and the wintery backdrop gives the illusion of clarity amidst a heavy dose of cynicism. Very real emotions, and very real experiences and relationships, set against a backdrop of a peculiar glass hotel and its equally peculiar and enigmatic occupants, allow for the meeting of the real and the imagined as they work in synchrony to deliver a powerful and thoughtful narrative. 

Thank you to Book*hug Press for the complimentary copy in exchange for an honest review.

Book Review: God is Not a Fish Inspector by W.D. Valgardson

By Dahl Botterill

My first and only previous experience with W.D. Valgardson was in high school; Gentle Sinners was on the curriculum at the time, and it was the book no student wanted to read. I remember almost nothing about it, but the name of the author of course stuck with me, so when I spotted a book of short stories with his name on it, I decided to give him another go. I have a bit of a soft spot for Canadian fiction, and it seemed foolish to have that one novel, read years ago amidst the complaints of an entire class, define an author for me.

I'm glad I did. I enjoyed God is Not a Fish Inspector a great deal, and it certainly scratched that classic CanLit itch. It has some funny bits, and occasionally pulls at the heartstrings, but it also serves up the tragedy you might be expecting from the genre. Violent clashes between man and nature, along with some more subtle clashes between men and women, provide a baseline of conflict that runs through many of the stories. The common setting (most of the stories are set in and about the Interlake Region of Manitoba) ties them all together and lets your imagination get comfortable.

God is Not a Fish Inspector sets the hook early in the story that provides the collection with its title, a tale of an elderly fisherman who continues to fish illegally long after he's retired, refusing to give up this important piece of his identity. He sneaks out early every morning and takes great pleasure in outwitting the local fisheries officers, much to the consternation of his religious daughter.

“Granite Point” and “In Manitoba” both tell of young women longing to escape relationships with men who are often more concerned with their success than their humanity, while painting a revealing and unpleasant picture of the racism poisoning their communities. As with many of Valgardson's stories, these tales touch on the drive for gain resulting in loss of a greater sort, both on a personal level and in a broader sense of communal success.

Romance takes centre stage in “A Private Comedy” and “A Business Relationship,” albeit not in traditional sense. Love can of course take many forms, running the gamut from destructive to redemptive, and Valgardson considers many of these forms throughout this short story collection.

To call God is Not a Fish Inspector a nostalgic read seems obvious at this point in time—published in 1975, the book is nearly 50 years old—but it doesn't feel inaccurate; this collection encapsulates so much of what Canadian literature used to be that it feels like more than just an example of its era, but instead truly representative of it. 

Book Review: The Singles Table by Sara Desai

By Melissa Barbuzzi

Celebrity obsessed lawyer, Zara Patel, has put finding love on the back burner this wedding season. Instead, she plans to focus on her career and matchmaking her friends to help them find romance. She's never come across anyone who she can't find a match for—that is until she meets high profile security specialist Jay.

The pair make a deal: she will find him a match if he introduces her to some of his celebrity clients. Will the perfect match be found, or will the deal come crashing down?

This was a great and well-rounded rom-com that was quick and lighthearted. It’s an enemies-to-lovers trope, and who doesn’t love that! Zara and Jay are your regular sunshine and grump couple who perfectly contrast each other. Their compatibility was everything, and their chemistry made them feel like such real individuals. 

Zara was an absolute girl boss with the most vibrant energy, which I absolutely loved (and may have been my favourite part of the book!). She was fully self-sufficient and didn’t rely on finding love, which made it so much more exciting when it found her! I also admired how much she loved her family and how it seemed so important that she spent time with them. 

The few issues I had with the book were small but did slightly impact my thoughts on the book. The constant push and pull between Zara and Jay did really bother me. It felt like they had so much conflict that anything romantic between them would inevitably be toxic. One minute they were all in and fully enjoying each other, and the next minute, it seemed like they genuinely hated each other.

Another issue I had with the book was the cringy name-calling. I’m normally not a big fan of any books that have heavy name-calling/cringey couple names. Thankfully, this book didn’t contain too much of it, but there was a portion of it. 

So, would I recommend this book? Yes, absolutely! It was the perfect lighthearted and cute read that had multiple laughs out loud moments which I loved. You should definitely add this to your TBR for 2022.

Thank you, Penguin Random House, for the complimentary copy in exchange for an honest review.

Book Review: Salt and Sour by Yoda Olinyk

By Carly Smith

Content warnings: emotional abuse

Salt and Sour offers a candid glimpse into the life of chef Yoda Olinyk leading up to, during, and after the existence of her restaurant. Once a popular dining spot for London, ON locals and visitors, The Restaurant, as she refers to it in her book, left diners mesmerized, friends and acquaintances hopeful, and strangers intrigued. The sudden closure of her unique establishment was unexpected, and Salt and Sour chronicles the events in Olinyk’s life that played a part in its shutdown. 

Olinyk touches on romantic relationships, friendships, and her connection with herself. She details moments of pure bliss, of soul-crushing heartache, and her deepest, most private memories. She blends anecdotes about chef life with stories from her personal life in a way that keeps readers interested equally in both her professional and private lives. As a finishing touch, like a cherry on top of whipped cream, she also includes recipes at the end of many of her chapters, each as meaningful as the previous.

Olinyk is wise, ambitious, considerate, and well-rounded. She is not short on life experiences, all of which have helped shape her to be such an outstanding person; substance use, parent separation, and a tumultuous romantic relationship are just a few hardships she endured that have contributed to her magnetic personality. She recounts these events, as well as others, without restraint. Her honesty and straightforwardness are irresistible. 

Readers are exposed to several themes in her memoir, including emotional abuse and self-love. I devoured this book like I did everything I ever ate at The Restaurant—too hastily, regretting not having savoured it more slowly to appreciate each element on its own and as part of a whole. Olinyk writes like she cooks: with every ounce of her heart and soul, unapologetically, and fearlessly. At the end of the book, I was left astonished, craving more, and somehow also settled. I anxiously await her next book.

Book Review: Relax, Dammit! by Timothy Caulfield

By Danielle Szewc

In today’s world, misinformation is abundant, and it can be hard to create informed decisions about multiple aspects that affect our daily lives. 

Relax, Dammit! A User’s Guide to the Age of Anxiety by Timothy Caulfield is a fresh look into everyday decisions and their ‘associated’ risks. The book walks the reader through a typical series of daily actions, starting with waking up, having a morning cup of coffee, getting to work, and all that follows until going back to sleep and assesses the conventional Western outlook and the risks typically associated with these actions. Caufield cleverly uses science to expose commonly held beliefs about risk assessment related to these activities in an educational and humorous writing style. 

Caulfield, Canada’s Research Chair in Health Law and Policy, uses literature reviews and interviews with experts to contrast Western cultural and societal beliefs about the correct decisions to make in daily life and their perceived risk. While in Relax, Dammit!, Caulfield confirms that some cultural and societal beliefs just make life easier, he also concludes that they may not always be the best way to combat risk assessment and anxiety about these actions. 

Caulfield debunks multiple pseudoscience myths, such as the health benefits of unpasteurized milk as perpetrated by celebrities in the golden era of social media, and gives the reader tools on how to make daily decisions with less anxiety. He also offers a solid understanding of how multiple health-related articles seen published as clickbait, solely created for higher views and web traffic, are based on small starter studies that are primarily observational. Caufield helps the reader to understand correlation versus causation, which causes these misleading articles to be created in the first place. 

While books that may appear to be slightly controversial, as well as scientific in nature, are not everyone’s cup of tea, Timothy Caulfield has elegantly used humour to allow a wider audience to appreciate the subject material. Overall, Relax, Dammit! A User’s Guide to the Age of Anxiety is an easy and fun read to help understand how western cultural norms influence daily decisions and how society weighs the risk-benefit ratio when making decisions in a world of misinformation. 

Thank you, Penguin Random House Canada, for the complimentary copy in exchange for an honest review. 

Book Review: I Have the Right to Culture by Aurélia Fronty

By Sara Hailstone

I Have the Right to Culture is the third illustrated children’s book of the I Have a Right series that offer ethical critiques and a humanitarian scope on the quality of lives some children endure that do not allow for art or other cultural realities to be felt or lived. The aim of this series is to initiate and host the necessary conversation exposing inequality and the advocacy of every child to have fair access to a full human experience in connection to the United Nations Convention on the Rights of a Child. 

Because the right to art, to leisure and to culture is written down

in the Convention on the Rights of the Child

If we respect each word of this convention,

then every child will truly be respected, too.

I Have a Right to Culture follows I Have the Right to Be a Child and I Have the Right to Save My Planet. 

            This book takes on heavy subject matter, packages a sobering narrative, and projects it into a child’s textual space. However, despite the design of the text, the target audience is not the child, I think, but the adult. 

I have the right to know

the secrets/ that hide in the heart of each flower

and in the shadow of each elephant,

so I can better protect every plant

and every animal. 

Above is one message stated from the point-of-view of a universal child narrator. 

The child who could not experience

any of this would have every right

to be angry.

Art and culture,

all these treasures of humanity,

should be shared.

The narrative is declarative and assertively flows through. And if humanity could be free to partake in art and culture, especially children, peace would prevail. “It would be the end / of all wars. / Bravo for artists!” The world would make music together and poets and writers would continue to build up new regimes and empires. Ultimately, artists would re-invent the world. 

Truly, the book is visually stunning and illustrator Aurélia Fronty succeeds in creating a piece of art; many of the pages could be framed and are stand-alone paintings in their own capacity. My suggestion in taking on the responsibility of conveying such topics within a child’s space is to process meaning through analogy and metaphor, passing on the impact of the message to the hands of a capable character. The tone of the text does not tie around a central narrative or plotline but reads more so like an informational pamphlet appealing to the reader’s emotions through subtle nuance and semantics perpetuated by the discourse outlined by the United Nations. The risk is the loss of the message. 

I think we wanted to be a part of a hero’s journey in which a child stands up to a world that would deny them the opportunity to tap into their creativity and self-expression because of discrimination, military agendas, and economy. We want to see this hero triumph over these impenetrable structures and create something beautiful along the way of that journey. 

Thank you, Groundwood Books, for the complimentary copy in exchange for an honest review.

Book Review: A Botanist's Guide to Parties and Poisons by Kate Khavari

By Lauren Bell

            A Botanist’s Guide to Parties and Potions strays from the typical genre of books that I read, but I was enticed by the elegant cover art and the way the title rolls off the tongue enough to select it. Khavari’s novel is written in feminist undertones and follows Saffron Everleigh, a young research assistant, as she navigates London’s high society and the old boy’s club at the university where she studies botany. 

            The plot begins with Saffron attending a faculty party as a last-minute invite. Surrounded by faceless old men, Saffron’s self-conscious voice becomes evident as she looks for an ally in the crowd. Like the classic Clue trope, the party is interrupted when a professor’s wife collapses due to poisoning—an attempted murder. Saffron later learns her mentor is the prime suspect, and she decides to take matters into her own hands to find the culprit, providing her with the opportunity to play Nancy Drew with Alexander Ashton, another dashing young researcher at the university. Khavari tries to build suspense by adding an upcoming research expedition to the Amazon that would provide the guilty party with a perfect escape, but it isn’t really felt until Saffron’s own research and credibility is put into jeopardy. However, I found the ending very neat, coming as close to a “happy” ending as one could expect.

            As I mentioned previously, this is not the type of novel I usually read, which is perhaps why I am a bit harsh in my critique. I found I grew bored of the novel’s slow-burning suspense and the classic “will they/won’t they” storyline between Saffron and Alexander. I was also disappointed with the lack of plants and flowers and felt it was a missed opportunity to add more depth to Saffron’s passions. Regardless, just because it wasn’t to my taste does not mean it will be the same for others, and I’d expect readers of Kate Morton would likely enjoy A Botanist’s Guide to Parties and Potions as it shares many similarities to Morton’s work such as the setting of post-war London aspects of its high society. 

Book Review: Red X by David Demchuk

By Anusha Runganaikaloo

Content warning: graphic violence, sexual assault, animal violence, homophobia, ableism, racism

Red X by David Demchuk is a novel unlike any I have ever read. It calls attention to the disappearance of vulnerable men from Toronto’s gay village, a recurring phenomenon that has been consistently met with indifference from the police and society at large for decades, and therefore remains unexplained.

The novel is divided into several stories centring on the lives of gay men just before they go missing. Their disappearances are usually greeted with disbelief and incomprehension by their friends, as nothing in their quiet, unassuming routines hinted at suicidal tendencies. The victims’ friends struggle to solve the mystery, alerting the authorities as well as estranged relatives. But they typically face a complete lack of interest or support, and eventually give up on their searches.

The author’s frame tale periodically interrupts the set of interwoven stories and provides the context for the disappearance of the main characters. He starts by sharing memories of coming out in his youth and moving to Toronto, where he was confronted with the dreary reality of young gay men trapped between the jaws of the Big City and saddled with dead-end jobs. They end up detaching themselves from families that fail to grasp their struggle and becoming more and more defenseless against predators as their support networks dwindle to nothing.

As both the author’s personal reflections and the set of stories progress, we are drawn deeper and deeper into an atmosphere of utter horror, where the lines between reality and fiction, between the author’s own life and that of his doomed characters, become blurred. Steering us away from the false lead of predictable homophobic hate crimes, Demchuk exposes a reality that is far more complex and disturbing.

Red X is a dark fantasy novel that gives a refreshing new twist to the horror genre. We encounter literary devices reminiscent of The Blair Witch Project and its found-footage technique, so that as readers, we feel irresistibly pulled into the story along with the hapless protagonists. 

Moreover, in horror stories, villains are often—implicitly or explicitly—gay or queer. One notable example is Dracula, where the Count lays claim to Jonathan Harker, stating, “This man belongs to me!" David Demchuk subverts this overused trope by emphasizing it in an almost parodic manner. 

Red X can in fact be interpreted as an allegory representing the grim reality of lesbian, gay, bisexual, trans and Two Spirit people who are sucked into a vortex of loneliness, discrimination, danger, and self-harm in soulless cities. The city becomes a monster that eats its victims alive while everyone else goes about their business, uncaring, and the authorities turn a blind eye to the horror unfolding before them—when they are not actively participating in it. Because of that, the city is haunted by centuries of unavenged crimes.

Inseparable from the fate of its victims is Toronto, a character in its own right, whose semi-fictional history is told from the viewpoint of the gay community. Hanging menacingly above the old Town of York and its inhabitants are mythological creatures that manipulate people and events like puppets. This sometimes produces dramatic, satisfying instances of poetic justice.

Another interesting point is that along with homophobia and transphobia, issues such as racism from a lesbian person’s standpoint and ableism are addressed, which makes this novel a fine addition to Canadian intersectional fiction. It is definitely a must-read!

Thank you, Penguin Random House Canada, for the complimentary copy in exchange for an honest review.

Book Review: Wild and Wicked Things by Francesca May

By Megan Amato

Content warning: spousal abuse, bloodletting

Let me tell you something that I hope you won’t judge me too hard for: I loathe The Great Gatsby. I dislike the self-absorbed, surface-level characters, the terrible decisions they make, and the fact that we are supposed to find some sort of meaning in the plot—or so our English teachers said. However, I do love the 1920s vibes. Francesca May’s Wild and Wicked Things somehow managed to deliver the glitzy and smoky atmosphere that I love along with flawed yet likeable characters. 

After her father dies, Annie travels to Crow Island—a place where witches flout the laws banning the use of magic—to sort out his belongings and lick her wounds in a cottage by the sea. After settling, she visits her once-best friend, Beatrice, and Beatrice’s elegant husband who disparages all magic, particularly the seemingly languid and lavish witches in the mansion next door to Annie. Despite warnings from multiple sources to stay away, Annie can’t help but be drawn to the house and its enigmatic owner, Emmeline—especially when a discovery about her own dangerous and magical heritage draws her even closer. However, soon Annie discovers that an ill-fated spell is slowly killing Emmeline and the only way to save her is to get the selfish and bright Beatrice and her smooth yet formidable husband to pay what’s owed—his blood. 

Someone with considerably less skill could have tried to write this story with its extremely flawed characters and failed to make us care about them. May, however, wove a story with characters so deliciously complex that I couldn’t help but root for even my least favourite characters. Beatrice is unlikeable, self-centred in her wants and desires, and uncaring in what she has to do or who she has to hurt to get them. And yet, I couldn’t completely hate her. While she doesn’t necessarily change as the novel progresses, her own fears and reasons for her actions elicit sympathy at her lowest and even have me rooting for her in the end. 

Despite having more altruistic reasons for their actions, Annie and Emmeline aren’t faultless either. Drawn together like the tide to the sandy shore, unable to stay away despite the destructive force of their bond, both make decisions that have devastating consequences. Annie, determined not to be the boring girl she imagines herself, makes impulsive decisions that are detrimental to those she loves. And Emmeline’s determination to do everything herself causes her to risk not only her life but those of the people she would do anything to protect. Yet it's these flaws that make their stories all the more compelling and their tumultuous relationship convincing. 

Wild and Wicked Things is a stunning novel full of shades of grey and despite being inspired by a classic, it felt original. The setting, magic, and building tension caused by the characters’ actions moved the plot in a way that had my pulse racing, both from the threat of immediate peril and the sexual tension. I will always be one to sign up for a sapphic retelling with magic and mystery, and May definitely delivered. 

Book Review: While Nobody is Watching by Michelle Dunne

By Erica Wiggins

Content warning: PTSD, drug use, suicidal thoughts

While Nobody Is Watching is the first novel from Michelle Dunne, an author who began her career as a soldier. It is just 279 pages, but it packs a punch. This story follows Lindsey Ryan, a soldier whose life is changed forever when a young Syrian girl accidently sets off an IED, resulting in two deaths and serious injuries to Lindsey. Lindsey blames herself and is suffering from PTSD, which she is trying to cope with the help of her dog Frank. We pick up the story three years after the incident. Lindsey is home from overseas and working at The Centre, a facility for troubled youth.  

This story is a scary glance into the world of a soldier dealing with PTSD. Lindsey isn’t sleeping and believes that someone is following her—but is that the truth or paranoia? The story started out a little slow for me. I wasn’t immediately drawn in, but once I finished the book It became apparent that this was necessary to set the scene. Upon reflection, this is done beautifully, and Lindsey starts to grow on you. 

About halfway through, the story picks up speed and was difficult to put down. Someone is leaving Lindsey notes and she is trying to figure out what is happening in her life. We start to see more of Lindsey’s growth, which is admirable. She is a soldier; it is what defines her. She is a strong, independent character. It feels like a true representation of what life can be like when you return home from active duty and try to settle into a “normal life.” It is an arduous task.

I was immersed in the town of Cork and the centre that Lindsey works at. The author has a way of writing that can feel autobiographical at times. There are a few clues to help you solve the mystery of what is happening, but I honestly did not catch them until the story was finished. By the end of the book I was attached to Lindsey. I didn’t want the story to end and would love to read another story about what happens next in her life. I was so skeptical at the beginning of this book, but it is completely worth diving into.  

While this was a challenging read at times due to the content, I would recommend checking this out if you enjoy mystery, danger, military-themed stories, recovery, redemption, growth, and a story that is most likely written from experience. This was five-star read for me. I will be keeping my eyes out for more great things to come from this author. 

Thank you to Publishing Group Canada for the complimentary copy in exchange for an honest review.

Book Review: Reckless Girls by Rachel Hawkins

By Larissa Page

Feeling like I needed a bit of an escape in the form of a compelling and easy read, I recently downloaded the audiobook of Reckless Girls by Rachel Hawkins. I had heard good reviews of  her previous release The Wife Upstairs, and I appreciate audiobooks because they are easy to listen to while working through other tasks in my day.

Lux and her boyfriend Nico are stuck working mundane jobs in Hawaii (or at least Lux is). They are trying to save up to fix Nico’s boat so they can set off on a grand worldwide adventure when they are approached by two people who want to pay them an exceptional amount of money to take them to a deserted island with a rather dark past in the middle of the Pacific Ocean for two weeks of bliss in “paradise.” Lux and Nico take advantage of the offer and set sail with these two strangers. When they arrive, they are surprised to find another couple has also decided to visit this strange, deserted paradise. They all quickly become friends and spend their time swimming and exploring, until things start to feel a little off. This trip and this island—and maybe even one another—are not quite what they seem to be.

As expected, this book was an escape, particularly to a tropical Pacific Ocean island. There were elements to the story that certainly did make it a thriller. Unfortunately, I predicted the shocking twist much before it was revealed, making it less shocking and a little bit disappointing. The suspense wasn’t quite there for me, even though the story itself was enjoyable enough. I wish I had felt a bit more of that unknown.

In addition to it not quite being suspenseful enough, I also disliked the ending. I thought the actions of the character at the end were not reflective of who she was and how she would have acted. This is one of the things I felt was off, but I also have some more questions that I think ultimately are plot holes that leave the story and the big reveal falling apart.

While the plot twists, suspense, and plot holes/lingering questions made this thriller a bit of a letdown, I will say the narrator of the Macmillan audiobook (Barrie Kreinik) did a great job. She was easy to listen to, even with the speed turned up. It was an easy story to follow in general which meant I could listen while driving or out for a walk or doing the dishes without missing anything, always a plus, and I appreciated the imagery of the jungle and the island. 

All in all, a fine escape through a disappointing thriller. 

Book Review: Permanent Astonishment by Tomson Highway

By Kim McCullough

Content warning: child abuse, sexual assault

Permanent Astonishment by Tomson Highway is a humorous and heartbreaking memoir that covers his life from birth to age fifteen. 

Highway’s earlier-than-expected birth during a frozen northern Manitoba winter kicks off the story of a young and free Cree boy filled with wonder at the beauty of the world around him. Highway has an incredible ability to remember the smallest of details, and what he doesn’t remember, his family has recounted for him. His storytelling has an almost musical rhythm to it, which makes sense for someone as musically gifted as Highway is. His facility with languages shines through in beautifully constructed sentences and thoughtful word play. 

When Highway is sent to the Guy Hill Residential School in The Pas, Manitoba, Permanent Astonishment settles into chapters that alternate between his vibrant summers at home and the much less colourful school year. Summers are for his land and his family, especially his younger brother René; the rest of the year is for Jesus, rote learning, and rules. 

Tomson Highway’s skill at setting up a compelling scene is second to none. His tales, from the story of his incredible birth to a rollicking yarn about a family wedding, to the story of his mother besting a loon, are humorous yet also show his deep, abiding love for his family and the place they live. Tomson Highway has a superb memory and a true gift for observing others. 

Highway writes with deliberation about his time at the residential school. He acknowledges the sexual abuse he and his peers suffered, and names his abuser. He writes of his English lessons in great detail. Though he misses home, it is at the school where he learns to play the piano. These music lessons launched his life of creativity. 

It is in reading of Highway’s time spent back home, in the summers, that really show the tragedy of what an Indigenous child pulled from the heart of his people has lost. The rhythm of the storytelling changes in the “home” chapters—stories become longer and the sentences more lyrical, describing trees, the lakes, the loons. The “away” chapters are focused more on the rooms and grounds of Guy Hill, the rules, the strangeness of the people and the English language young Tomson is forced to learn. The reader is immersed in the disorientation and melancholy ache felt by this small boy sent to school hundreds of miles from his family.  

Highway’s deep connection to his hometown of Brochet and the many islands and lakeshores his family inhabits during his summer serve to highlight the tragic loss of a way of life. How different the rote learning and catechism of the residential school was; how brutal some of the lessons learned. 

Permanent Astonishment is a must read. In these times of uncertainty, Highway’s infectious joy for the world he was born into and gratitude for the gifts he was born with, lift the spirits and leave a lasting impression of beauty and grace. 

Thank you to Penguin Random House Canada for the complimentary copy in exchange for an honest review.

Book Review: Daughter of the Moon Goddess by Sue Lynn Tan

By Megan Amato

Sometimes it’s okay to judge a book by its cover—especially when that book is Sue Lynn Tan’s magical retelling of a Chinese myth, Daughter of the Moon Goddess. Blessed with stunning UK and North American covers, Tan has crafted a tale that’s both lyrical and rippling with tension. 

The day Xingyin discovers her magic is also the day she loses all that she has ever known. As the daughter of the Moon Goddess, Xingyin believes her mother universally beloved—until she’s forced to hide from the celestials who exile her mother to the moon for stealing the immortality the emperor gifted to her husband. 

Stranded in the Celestial City, she works for a callous mistress until a chance meeting grants her the opportunity to study with the prince, learn more about her magic, and free her mother. As Xingyin’s magic, education, and skill with a bow grow, so do her feelings for both the gentle prince who’s nothing like his ruthless parents and the supportive and stalwart army captain. Caught between conflicting claims on her heart, Xingyin will face countless monsters, betrayal, heartbreak, and even dragons in her quest to unshackle her mother from the moon.

Xingyin is a gorgeously written protagonist who transforms from a sheltered and naïve girl into a warrior who doesn’t let her trauma stop her from being kind to those who deserve it. She fights for her place in the world, outside of her relationships with her mother and the prince, but she doesn’t forget them or leave them behind despite the complications and danger and heartbreak being connected to both of them bring her. 

I’ve always disparaged love triangles, but I think that it’s the lingering effects of the first love triangle I read—you know the one that had most of us millennials picking “teams”? That one. However, the love triangle between Xingyin, cinnamon roll Prince Liwei, and seasoned Captain Wenzhi was so well done that while my heart would have pinged a little had she chosen one over the other, it would not have been broken. While neither character nor relationship is perfect, I loved how their feelings and dynamics grew in such different ways, yet each supported her sense of agency, unthreatened by her internal and external strength. While it seems clear that she has chosen one by the end, I have a feeling it's not the last we will see of their love triangle.

However, one thing I do hope to see in the sequel is more of her relationship with her only non-male friend, Shuxiao. I loved their friendship dynamic from the beginning, and I wish there had been more of her in the story.

As a writer who is often economical, I am always in awe of writers who seem to write sweeping prose as effortlessly as they plot their novels. Daughter of the Moon Goddess was beautifully written, and though I have never been to a celestial kingdom, I felt completely immersed with all my senses engaged by the breathtaking worldbuilding. From other reviews I’ve read, the lyrical writing may not be for everyone, but I never felt pulled from the story. Sue Lynn Tan’s debut novel was a delight to read, and I will be (im)patiently waiting for the next one.

Thank you to HarperCollins Canada for the complimentary copy in exchange for an honest review.

Book Review: Graceling by Kristin Cashore

By Meghan Mazzaferro

Content warning: violence, gore, emotional manipulation

Graceling is set in a world where a small group of people have Graces: special gifts and abilities that are often used and manipulated by the ruling governments of the seven kingdoms. Katsa has been Graced with killing, and as such, she is the king’s most prized assassin. But Katsa is more than just a weapon. She believes in a world free of dictatorship, and when she meets Po, a mysterious prince with a Grace that allows him to understand her in ways no one else can, she realizes that there is someone out there with a Grace that could put the entire world at risk. Now Katsa must use her evolving gift to save all seven kingdoms while opening herself up to experiences she’s always kept at a distance. 

This book is the first in a series set within the Graceling universe, and Katsa’s story is rich, immersive, and mesmerizing. This book is incredibly unique; I don’t think I’ve ever read a story that was told in quite this way, and it was a thrill to read. The story takes its time, and the prose is rich and captivating while still capturing Katsa’s unique voice. The plot never lulls, but it takes its time developing the characters and the conflicts and really letting Katsa shine. This book is about overcoming dictatorship, yes, but it is also about a young woman discovering who she is and who she wants to be, and that is just as beautiful. 

This book is written really uniquely. While the writing style has the same rich writing as classic fantasy, the perspective is unique. Many young adult novels place the reader directly in the mind of the main character, whether in first person or third person; this book, however, keeps the characters at a distance. Rather than jumping into the mind of the characters, we observe them from the outside, and the story focuses more on the characters’ actions and thoughts than their feelings. This style really compliments Katsa’s character; she is a person who relates to the world in a black and white, direct way, and she struggles with the intricacies of emotion in those around her. Much in that way, the reader is shown the actions of the characters without being told their emotional motivations. While the reader is placed closer to Katsa than the rest of the cast of characters, Katsa struggles to understand her own emotions, and so they are not always explained to the reader. This distancing, however, makes the characters no less relatable. In fact, this makes the story stand out and makes the characters’ struggles feel unique and compelling since they are presented in a unique way for the genre. 

As I previously mentioned, this book is an investigation of Katsa’s emotional journey into herself. Thus, it would be impossible for me to talk about this book without discussing the romance as Katsa’s relationship with Po is one of the driving forces that pushes her to learn about her Grace and herself. The development of Katsa and Po’s relationship is grounded and moving; they push each other to grow and be better, and they see the best and worst parts of each other. It is through their relationship that each character becomes the version of themselves readers can fall in love with, and it is only together that they can succeed in their mission. While this story is not entirely a romance, the romance is a crucial part of what makes the book so unique and so moving. 

Graceling is a fantastic novel. It has everything: morally complex characters, a rich, unique fantasy world with a compelling magic system, a moving and emotional romance, and a personal story that resonates with readers. If you’re a fan of well-written fantasy with a unique voice and beautiful story, this is definitely the book for you. 

Book Review: The Wish by Nicholas Sparks

By Robyn Rossit

Content warning: terminal illness

Nicholas Sparks has been an auto-buy author for me since my early teens when seeing the movie, A Walk to Remember, opened the door into his many works of romance. Being a reader at heart, I had to read the book and then continue through his backlist. Since then, I've purchased and read every new book, so it was no surprise that I picked up The Wish when it came out this past fall. The Wish is a dual-timeline story sharing Maggie's story at sixteen, in 1996, and her present-day story as an adult in 2019.

Sixteen-year-old Maggie's world has been flipped upside down, spending a year living with an aunt who is a stranger to her in a small remote town in North Carolina, away from her friends and family. She feels so lost and alone until she meets Bryce Trickett—one of the very few teenagers who lives on the island. He shows her how much there is to love about life on the island while also introducing her to photography and igniting a lifelong passion. Present-day Maggie is a successful travel photographer who runs a gallery in New York City while continuing to travel the world camera in hand. After receiving a life-altering medical diagnosis, she finds herself spending more time in New York City and the gallery. Her medical issues cause her to become more reliant on her young assistant, and therefore, grow closer to him. As Christmas approaches, she begins to tell him the story of the time she spent in North Carolina and the love that changed her life. 

I really love when a book is a story within a story, and Sparks certainly delivers in The Wish. Alternating between the two timelines, I really couldn't decide which one I was enjoying more as both were captivating in their own way. In terms of romance, it was definitely more of a slow burn, but in the sweetest, teenage first love kind of way. It certainly reminded me of what drew me into Nicholas Sparks' storytelling to begin with.

Certainly, there are a lot of familiar Nicholas Sparks facets to the story—if you've read a couple, you always find a sense of familiarity among his work. While no two stories are exactly alike, he certainly enjoys certain plot devices. Different parts of the story reminded me of various past works of his which felt very comforting. 

Book Review: Burying the Moon by Andrée Poulin and Illustrated by Sonali Zohra

By Christine McFaul

Burying the Moon is a new middle-grade novel-in-verse written by author Andree Poulin and illustrated by Sonali Zohra. The book brings awareness to the lack of sanitation that affects billions of people around the world, impacting the health, safety, and education of girls and women in particular. I was very curious to see how this topic would be approached, especially for the middle-grade age group. I’m excited to dive in and share my thoughts on the reading experience. 

High 

in the shimmering sky

the silver 

moon

gazes

at a 

gloomy

girl. 

The story opens at night shining a literal (moonlit!) spotlight on young protagonist, Latika. With no toilets in her village, the girls and women must wait for dark to do their business in a nearby field. A situation that puts them in danger from snakes, scorpions, disease, and assault. And a situation that creates feelings of shame and frustration for Latika, hence her desire to ‘bury the moon’ that shines too bright a light on the Field of Shame.  

In the verses that follow, Latika emerges as an interesting, plucky, and honest protagonist. The words also paint a picture of her Amamma, Aunty Nita, and older sister, bringing these women to life while weaving in the various effects and challenges posed by lack of sanitation. Within the familial and daily hustle-bustle of her life, it is clear that Latika loves school. Her older sister used to love school too. 

That was before.

Now

everything has changed.

In Padaram

girls

who are almost

women

stop going

to school. 

And Latika is dreading the day that she will also have to stop attending. When a government official visits her town and asks the villagers what they need, she is certain someone will bring up this silent thing that dictates so much of her lived experience. But no one talks about the Field of Shame. No one asks for a toilet. So Latika devises a plan to take action and make a change.

Burying the Moon is short (the perfect length for this topic in my opinion), accessible, and correlates to the Common Core State Standards in English Language Arts. The verse flows and is very readable; a well-balanced mix of poignant, humorous, interesting, and profound. Poulin, who has worked in international development for decades, includes an author’s note that shares facts and statistics about the lack of sanitation and its effects as well as suggestions for further reading on the topic.

The illustrations are lovely and perfectly compliment Poulin’s verse. They are in colour, which isn’t always the case in middle-grade and help to slow the reader down encouraging them to linger over each page. I love the colour palette, mainly purple with accents in terracotta, brown, and pink, and the night spreads have a lush almost velvety feel. 

A unique, informational, and beautifully illustrated read. I would recommend it for the higher end of the middle-grade age range.  

Thank you, Groundwood Books, for the complimentary copy in exchange for an honest review.