Book Review: The Apothecary's Garden by Jeanette Lynes

By Sara Hailstone

Set in 1860 in Belleville, Ontario, The Apothecary’s Garden by Jeanette Lynes stood out to me due to my own connection to this region, having grown up in Madoc, Ontario. The storyline of a young woman, Lavender, her encounter with a celebrity medium, Allegra Trout, and the balancing between the physical and ethereal realms were all things that drew me to this book.

The Apothecary’s Garden is the author’s third novel amongst a set of seven collections of poetry. She has been longlisted for the Scotiabank Giller Prize and is also currently the director of the MFA program in writing at the University of Saskatchewan. I predict from the quality of its prose, its rich characterization, and the authenticity of the historical setting that The Apothecary’s Garden will win awards.

Lavender Fitch has grown up in the midst of culture and herbology but she is left poverty-stricken after the deaths of her apothecary father and her mother, a talented harp player. Lavender scrapes by with her resourcefulness, selling homemade wares from her cultivated garden at the market. One day, Belleville is visited by a renowned medium named Allegra Trout and her assistant, Robert Trout, an alluring man with an injured face. Although intimidated by and critical of Allegra’s talents, Lavender nevertheless hopes to use her psychic talents to secure information about a possible secret nest egg that her mother left her from the proceeds of her harp concerts. Through economic adversity, Lavender holds on to forbidden love and the hope for financial security from the actions of her lost mother.

The text flowed nicely and was woven with well-crafted descriptive language of the world of the apothecary, plants, flowers, and the representation of Belleville in the mid-1800s. I was interested in the mention of the Moodie family and their presence in the spiritual medium culture in Belleville, but it would have been exceptional to witness deeper contextualization of the Moodies in the novel. There was also a reference to the infamous Fox sisters, who were known for using “rappings” to convince others that they were communicating with spirits. Lastly, I was inspired by the subtle feminist plot line surfacing and holding fast throughout the duration of the novel. Lavender’s mother is the true ethereal connection between the living and those who have crossed over, with validated instances of hearing her harp playing during certain timings of the plot. The novel, essentially, is about the love of a mother from beyond the grave in ensuring her child is okay in the world without her. The novel is also about the grit and perseverance of a woman labelled a “spinster” who makes her way in the world.

Thank you to HarperCollins Publishers Ltd for the complimentary copy in exchange for an honest review!

Book Review: A Cruel and Fated Light by Ashley Shuttleworth

By Meghan Mazzaferro

Content warning: blood/gore, depression, off-page suicide, on-page suicide, racism, violence, emotional abuse, physical abuse, self-harm (*Note, an extensive content warning is provided with an author’s note at the beginning of the book, please read before starting the book.)

A Cruel and Fated Light is the second book in the Hollow Star Saga by Ashley Shuttleworth. Picking up where the first book left off, we follow our characters as they deal with the consequences of their confrontation with the ironborn murderer. Nausicaa strikes a deal with the High King that will allow Arlo to study alchemy, but in exchange, Arlo is thrust into the Fae Summer Court right at a time when the Summer Queen seems poised to make a play for the throne. Each of our characters must plot and scheme, learning what they can about their magic, the dark plot that surrounds them, and who, if anyone, can be trusted. A vague summary? Perhaps. But to avoid spoiling book one, that’s all you’ll get from me.

I was a huge fan of A Dark and Hollow Star (a full review is available here). I found it a fun and immersive YA urban fantasy that handled darker themes beautifully, and I was incredibly excited to read a story featuring almost every supernatural creature set in Toronto. While I did have a few critiques of the book, I thought it was a unique and promising start to what I hoped to be an awesome series. Now book two is finally out, and I was not disappointed. While the majority of A Cruel and Fated Light is set in Nevada, not Toronto, the book gave me everything else I wanted—dynamic and dimensional main characters, multiple queer romances, incredibly complex court politics and schemes, untrustworthy fae, and more. This book takes the seeds planted in book one, and while it doesn’t give us all the answers, it pulls us deeper into the complicated politics of the mortal and immortal worlds and the young people that are unwilling pawns in it all.

I found each of the core five characters in this book super interesting and easy to root for. Shuttleworth takes the time to explore each character’s thoughts and motivations, and while I don’t agree with each action characters take in this book, I understand why they each do what they do. Arlo and Nausicaa’s relationship in this book is incredibly sweet and funny while diving deeper into each character’s traumas and fears. Aurelian and Vehan dance around each other and each struggle with their feelings and their roles in their respective worlds, and Celadon is a welcome addition to our cast of main characters, playing a surprising and shockingly poignant role in the story. Riadne makes an excellent antagonist, equal parts untrustworthy, unsympathetic, and yet excellently fleshed out and deliciously villainous. There are no one-dimensional villains in this story, and for that, I must applaud Shuttleworth.

In fact, this book addresses all my critiques of the first one. The first book introduces a lot of different characters, politics, and different mythologies and creatures, to the point that things become a little muddled. This book works to juggle all those different players, and while more elements are introduced, they feel much better integrated than in book one. Likewise, while I found the climax of book one a little disappointing, this book stepped up. I devoured the last 200 pages of this book, and I simply cannot wait to have the next one in my hands. While I do believe there were some pacing issues in this book, I found I didn’t mind, as I was so interested in each character’s individual journey that I appreciated the story taking its time.

Overall, I loved this book. I thought it lived up to and exceeded the promise of the first one, and I am desperately waiting for more. If you like urban fantasy, dark fae, a vibrant cast of characters and complex schemes still in the process of being revealed, I definitely think this series is a must-read.

Thank you to Penguin Random House Canada for a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.

Book Review: A Gift for Nana by Lane Smith

By Carly Smith

A Gift for Nana is a sweet, heartwarming tale about a rabbit on the hunt for the perfect gift for his nana. In the book, a young rabbit decides to go on an adventure after a discussion with a crow to find a gift for his nana that’s just right. On his journey, the rabbit comes across a moon, a stickler, a fish, a volcano, and a cave. Each encounter prompts a thought or memory of his nana and helps the rabbit reminisce about his relationship with her. It’s clear that they have a very special connection. Finally, after a long search and much contemplation, the rabbit finds what he thinks is the perfect gift and proudly returns to bring it to his nana.

This beautifully illustrated picture book is a sweet story to read when a little one misses their grandparent, if they have an extra special connection with a grandparent or elderly person, or as a bedtime book when a grandparent is the grownup in charge. Smith, who both authors and illustrates this book, uses a unique style of art to complement the storyline; the pictures are somewhat scratchy, and lines aren’t always clear. This is a refreshing change from children’s book illustrations that are often very clear-cut or cartoony. This captivating and uncommon technique really adds to the adventure element of the plot.

Although the message of the story and the illustrations are attractive, there are components of A Gift for Nana that I revisited several times with the intention of better understanding. Firstly, I found the writing to be choppy at times. When reading it both in my head and aloud to my child, I frequently fumbled at the syntax—it often seemed that words were missing or arranged oddly. Secondly, I think there could have been a more appropriate choice for font, text layout, size, and colour. The text choices seemed somewhat haphazard, and the effort it took to track sentences and read the words detracted from the actual experience of enjoying a picture book.

A Gift for Nana will bring smiles to the faces of those experiencing the book, whether reading or listening. In an academic setting, this book is excellent for helping young students infer and use their imagination. It is a great choice for little ones who have a special connection with someone who may be older than a traditional parent or guardian, such as a grandparent or great grandparent, great aunt or uncle, or elderly neighbour. A touching tale, A Gift for Nana will leave readers’ hearts full and their imaginations fuller.

Thank you to Random House Kids for a complimentary copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.

Book Review: The Hands by Marty Gervais

By Fayth Simmons

The Hands by Canadian poet, journalist, and teacher Marty Gervais features a collection just shy of forty poems, in which life and its complexities are narrowed down into minute and thoughtful details. It is within these smaller details that Gervais best illustrates the import of lasting universal themes.

His collection is separated into three main parts, titled “Language of the River,” “His Father’s Work,” and finally, “The Hands.” A single poem serves as the epilogue, and another as the prologue. The layout is pleasing and meaningful in and of itself. The title is characteristic of the role that doing plays in the process of creating art, life, and ultimately—identity. In reference to the symbolism and function of the fingerprint, in that each is individual and key to identification, Gervais utilizes the idea of hand characterization to describe the innate components of the self; in the third part of his collection, he transfers this philosophy directly into the narrative descriptions of various significant people, from Mother Theresa to Rosa Parks. Within these portrayals, he highlights their humanity and the poignant details that compose their states of being. Using language, he is able to shine a singular light upon his subjects in a way that acknowledges the surrounding shadows without allowing them to distract from meaning and intention.

His narrative pieces are very dynamic—both objectively simple in their telling, and yet each word is eloquently placed to suit the tone of the work. Gervais writes and ruminates upon a variety of themes, focusing most prominently upon the movement of time and place and the importance of doing, in a sense of both the physical and the abstract. In language that almost murmurs, he aligns his words and the spaces between them to shape the page and the mind of the reader. He is intentional and works to place heavy emphasis upon the cruciality of detail (which is fitting for a poet, as mentioned within the introduction by author and professor Bruce Meyer).

By incorporating detailed musings, sometimes so specific as the mention of a teacup balanced precariously atop a ruin of disorder, Gervais centres his reader, giving a meditative experience of sorts. His collection is successful not because of its subversive and conceptualized intellect, but because it is so easily and almost effortlessly consumed. Each poem resonates at some mundane or existential level. For example, in “Walking Distance,” Gervais uses simplistic and yet delicate language to describe a universal feeling of overwhelm and the peace that might be recognized amid such states of unrest. It embodies longing and release in equal and opposite measure. And this is perhaps what Gervais does best. In minimized tones he is able to prescribe plot to his poetry; in each poem, there is linear relation, with a concrete beginning, middle, and end. This element of finality likely allows for a greater appreciation of the themes which he touches upon in his work—the reader is left satisfied, with closure established, having benefitted from Gervais’s power over language.

Thank you to Guernica Editions for the complimentary copy in exchange for an honest review.

Book Review: Bewilderment by Richard Powers

By Carmen Lebar

Content warning: death, ableism, physical violence

Bewilderment by Richard Powers is a moving story about a father wanting the best for his son. After the death of his wife, Theo has to parent his son Robin on his own while tackling his responsibilities as a university professor and astrobiologist. As it becomes clearer that his son may be neurodivergent, he decides to enroll him in an experimental treatment that will draw his son closer to his wife than initially expected. I found this novel to be poignant, heartbreaking, and all around inspiring.

I thoroughly enjoyed the blend of genres in this novel. Theo is an astrobiologist, and often teaches his son different scientific facts and observations. His role as an astrobiologist is to simulate life on other planets. What would the plants be like? What sort of terrain would be there? He goes into detail of the various geographical features all these planets would have. He shares these simulations with his son as stories to calm him and pique his interest in the universe. The stories he weaves of these planets are great tidbits of science fiction in a literary novel. Powers creates these sensational ecosystems that speak volumes about scientific discovery and the importance of Earth’s natural world. (Theo and Robin often spend time in nature to de-stress and bond.) The stories that Theo tells Robin show the importance Theo places on being a father, but also an educator.

As much as this novel touches upon grief and science, it is ultimately a powerful story about parenthood—particularly single parenthood. After the death of his wife Aly, Theo is left to raise Robin by himself while simultaneously grieving. However, that doesn’t stop Theo from doing all he can to raise Robin to be the best version of himself. He nurtures Robin’s creativity—creating art of endangered animals—and wants him to develop his own conclusions about tough situations. Even when he knows that Robin needs extra support, he does whatever he can to keep Robin safe. He keeps him away from doctors who only want to prescribe his son drugs without really understanding Robin’s individual situation. Powers creates a dynamic and complex father-son relationship, while also balancing loss and the importance of the natural world. Theo is an exemplary father, even if he has his flaws. This relationship will be one I will think about often.

Bewilderment is the perfect novel for the science enthusiast who also has a soft spot for literary fiction. It will tug at your heart strings and make you realize what is important to you. The novel explores the themes of loss, parenthood, and science in a perfect blend I didn’t know could exist. The ending shook me to my core and left me thinking about the novel for days after I finished it. I highly recommend Bewilderment by Richard Powers, and I think it will be a modern classic in the years to come.

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

Please note that Carmen has recently acquired a new position with Penguin Random House Canada. Her thoughts and opinions are her own, but for transparency we'd like to share this detail.

Book Review: A Magic Steeped in Poison by Judy I. Lin

By Meghan Mazzaferro

Content warning: violence, grief, death of a parent, medical trauma, torture, blood, vomit

Judy I. Lin’s YA fantasy debut is set in a world where magic is practiced by shénnóng-shī, masters of the ancient and magical art of tea making. Ning’s mother was a powerful shénnóng-shī, and the tea leaves speak to Ning as well, though it is her sister who is to study the magical art. After Ning brews a cup of poisoned tea that takes her mother’s life and leaves her sister’s body failing, Ning must enter a competition in the imperial city for the chance to win a favour from the princess if she has any hope of saving her sister’s life. But things in the capital are not all that they seem; Ning must face bloodthirsty competitors, nefarious court politics, a mysterious boy and scheming princess, and a country on the brink of disaster.

A Magic Steeped in Poison is an absolute masterpiece. Beautifully written, with a vibrant magic system, a complex plot full of twisting politics, and at the centre of it all, an imperfect girl desperate to save the life of her sister. What more could you ask for? Lin’s writing style is lyrical and emotional, and her descriptions of tea preparation are absolutely mesmerizing. The story surrounding this incredible magic system is complicated and captivating in the best way.

I don’t have a single negative thing to say about this book. From the excellently developed characters to the winding politics and the magic competition, everything about this book pulls you in and refuses to let you go. The story takes its time, weaving its way through the numerous plot threads and fleshing out Ning as a character. Though the plot moves slowly, the magic of Lin’s writing and the beauty of the world and magic system kept me engaged the entire time. I was so immersed in the story, so moved and drawn in, that I made a point to brew a cup of tea whenever I sat down to read, just to feel more connected with what I was reading. Even the one relationship that I felt developed quicker than I would normally like had a beauty and simplicity to it, complicated and corrupted by the world in which these characters find themselves, so it was impossible to hold that against the story.

The characters in this book are beautifully fleshed out, and Ning is one of my favourite YA protagonists in some time. She is imperfect and flawed, but also vibrant and strong and easy to relate to. She is driven by the love of her family and is thrust into a world she does not understand; I think we can all relate to that in some way or another. The side characters in this story are not all fleshed out to the same degree, but their roles in the story help propel the plot and we learn enough about them to get invested in how they will figure into the plot of book two. The most interesting side characters are definitely Bo and the princess, who will each play a major role in the story going forward.

I am intrigued by how this story will progress in the sequel, which is coming in August! It looks like things will be expanding within both the political and magical conflicts, and I can’t wait to see where things go.

Book Review: Lessons in Chemistry by Bonnie Garmus

By Robyn Rossit

Content warning: sexual assault, sexism, death

Lessons in Chemistry by Bonnie Garmus was definitely a book I’ve been looking forward to reading. Set in the early 1960s, it is a window into what it was like for women during that time. Elizabeth Zott is a chemist at Hastings Research Institute, working on an otherwise all-male team. Struggling with equality, she meets Calvin Evans, a brilliant fellow chemist, who, unlike his colleagues, values the work that Elizabeth does and falls in love with her brilliance. However, life throws Elizabeth some curveballs and years later she finds herself a single mother, struggling to make ends meet. Elizabeth finds herself hosting a cooking show, which is popular despite her scientific approach to cooking. She becomes popular among her viewers because not only is she teaching them to cook, but she is also inspiring them to follow their dreams and change the status quo.

I flew through Lessons in Chemistry in only a few sittings because I was absolutely hooked. Elizabeth Zott is such a fearless, strong, and inspiring main character. While she struggles to be seen as a chemist, she refuses to let how others see her hold her back. Even when she is working as a television host, she maintains her identity as a chemist.

Inequality is a central theme to Lessons in Chemistry. The limitations put on Elizabeth, simply because she is a woman, are uncomfortable but authentic. She experiences sexism, as well as sexual harassment, simply for daring to step outside of the box that society put her in. I think the most outrageous part of Elizabeth’s story is that the patronizing way that women were treated was very much true for the time. However, seeing the impact Elizabeth has on other women was truly inspiring. While it is a fictional story, I can only imagine how many women like Elizabeth Zotts there were in the 1960s paving the way for women today, demanding more.

Lessons in Chemistry has some incredible and heartwarming side characters. They were quirky, lovable, and best of all, could easily stand on their own. Most importantly though, Elizabeth’s dog, Six Thirty, is by far my favourite dog in literature. He is just as well developed as the humans in the story. I won’t say more because I really feel like the reader needs to meet the cast of characters for themselves.

I felt such a range of emotions while reading Lessons in Chemistry, from outrage to laughter to pure joy. I would strongly recommend adding it to your summer reading list! I also recently found out it will be adapted as a limited series (if you needed another reason to read Lessons in Chemistry!).

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

Book Review: Maud and Me by Marianne Jones

By Sara Hailstone

With her second published novel, Marianne Jones has presented a story challenging the conventions of what it means to be a woman in northwestern Ontario in the 1980s, especially a minister’s wife, demonstrating just how far women go to connect and reconnect. Published in May 2021 by Crossfield Publishing, a Canadian independent small press, Maud and Me allows readers to navigate the spiritual and emotional depths of the iconic Lucy Maud Montgomery in ways that have not been delved into before. The protagonist, Nicole Leclair, is a middle-aged minister’s wife. Her private struggle with the constraints placed on her by a conservative religious society, as well as what it feels like to be constantly forced into gender constructs and boxes, securely fix the main plotline. The author grew up in Thunder Bay and her personal connection with nature is expressed in the way the protagonist rides out her emotional hardship by grounding herself in nature. The landscape and cliffs of Lake Superior feature stoically in the background of a controlled, unravelling plot.

In following Nicole’s daily repression and the conformity demanded of her as a minister’s wife, the reader is shown in parallel another layer to the humanity of Lucy Maud Montgomery. The public knew about her struggles with her husband’s mental health and the plight of her son, Chester. “I took refuge in doing my duty. It’s remarkable how stable that will keep one through life’s crises. And when my duties became too much, I turned to my imagination."

We, in turn, get to imagine an element of Maud’s emotional fabric that was not present in her own journal writings or her fiction. The depth that Jones delves to sympathizes with both women as wives of ministers and women with artistic passion. "No, what troubled me more was Ewen’s attitude toward my writing. He never read any of my books, never exhibited any interest in my writing, even though it paid for his automobiles and our sons’ education, and many expenses that his salary did not cover. He resented any attention or praise I received for my writing. It hurt deeply, especially since I supported him fully in his work.”

Both Maud and Nicole are artists, whether writing or painting, and they are both quietly struggling with the constructs that religious roles place on them artistically.

The seamless integration of Maud into the events and characterization hints at magic realism. I wonder, even after reading (and perhaps this questioning is also what accentuates the reading experience), at how smoothly Maud’s character fits into the narrative even though I’m not convinced it is believable. Maud fully arrives later in the novel when Nicole is pushed to the edge of her emotional capacity from putting on constant fronts of being okay within an emotionally and socially constricting lifestyle. The relationship evolves and is strained by the humanity and personal essence of both women in confrontation and in connection with each other.

The protagonist challenges Maud in ways we wouldn’t expect a Canadian icon to be made vulnerable; I argue this is a strength of the text and of Jones’s literary skill. Maud stops appearing when Nicole faces the crux of her problems and begins reckoning, organizing, and confronting what is upsetting her. No other characters ever know of Maud’s appearances to Nicole. The narrative point of view does not spend extensive time on justifying or realizing the plausibility of Maud appearing at all. Nicole chalks it up to a hallucination and the encounter resonates with biblical and religious moments she knows others have had with saints and miraculous apparitions. These women are “kindred spirits.” Both “pressed upon by people and their demands, and yet…have no one to really talk to—that was heavy to bear.” They are women in parallel: minister’s wives, artists, women in pain, and women concealing that pain.

There is a saying, The best stories are the ones that never get told. Jones contributes to the creative and literary persona of Maud as a Canadian icon—one in pain and locked in a prison of opiate abuse and mental illness. And another layer is laid down; another element of her story that was not told is imagined. She becomes more real to us than simply a national persona who carefully censored and privately hid the extent of pain she faced every single day. 

Thank you to Marianne Jones for the complimentary copy in exchange for an honest review!

Book Review: The Second History by Rebecca Silver Slayter

By Kaylie Seed

Content warning: miscarriage

The Second History is a dystopian tale that follows Jane and Eban as they struggle to survive in a world they are unfamiliar with. The two of them are finding it difficult to live in the Appalachians after climate change has ravaged the Earth and created a widespread genetic defect affecting almost everyone, leading Jane and Eban to look for somewhere else to live. Pregnant Jane is worried that this pregnancy will end in miscarriage as the others did, and so she convinces Eban to leave and find Heaven, a place they believe will solve their problems—only to find out that Heaven is not as it was made out to be.

This slow-paced novel lacks the action that is normally seen in dystopian fiction and because of that it feels a little dry in places. Jane and Eban were both seemingly one-dimensional in the beginning but as the story progresses the reader learns about them before the world changed, and this helps develop their characters. It is through their reflections that the reader learns more about this strange new world and how it came to be. There isn’t a lot of focus on secondary characters until later in the novel, when Jane and Eban learn more about the history of Heaven and the historical conflict that took place.

Themes present in this novel include climate change, self-discovery, love conquering all, and trust. The Second History is unlike most dystopian novels; it reads more like literary fiction than science fiction. While there is an emphasis on environmental catastrophe, the main focus of the novel is human emotions as the characters learn to let go of the world they once knew and begin rebuilding a new one. While some answers are given in the end, there are many that are left unanswered, and I believe that this was intentional since many questions in life go unanswered. Readers who enjoy heavy emotional plots and narrative-driven stories will likely enjoy this one.

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

Book Review: The Witches of Moonshyne Manor by Bianca Marais

By Larissa Page

The newest novel from Bianca Marais comes out a little later this summer and it has been compared to “Golden Girls meets Hocus Pocus,” which I think is a pretty apt description. It is the story of six geriatric witches who have lived at Moonshyne Manor since childhood. Now in their eighties, they run the risk of losing a home that has become part of their sisterhood itself. In order to save their home, they must work against the clock to find a lost treasure they stole thirty years before. They’ve waited thirty years to have their sixth sister back, to find the treasure, pay off their debts, and save the manor—but it simply won’t be that easy.

This novel is a departure from Marais’s previous works of fiction. She is well loved for her two previous and similar novels and has also recently released an Audible original audiobook that steps into the sci-fi/dystopia genre. This novel, however, is modern and magical while still employing many of Marais’s go-to literary tools. It is rife with red herrings and misdirection, which gives the novel a few small, surprising twists.

This novel was a lot of fun. It wasn’t heavy even though there were aspects and topics that could have been. It was light, but the characters were still well crafted and their relationships still meaningfully described. The cast was large: six witches, a teenage TikTok-er, and a villain. While it did take a little bit of effort not to confuse all the characters and they could have been a little bit more developed, I didn’t feel like anything from the story was lost with how it was told.

One thing I did find to be a bit heavy was the pop culture or cliché references. I attribute this to personal preference, as most of the books I read are not pop culture-related books, but I think other readers will find these really fun (and I did as well, I just found there to be a lot). There was a Harry Potter reference, which in this day and age can be exciting for some people and problematic for others. It wasn’t harped on, though, so I moved past it easily. The thing I think I found most surprising was how balanced the book was between the deeper topics such as sexuality and gender fluidity/transition, and the pop culture references and fun things like a magical heist.

Ultimately this upcoming novel by Bianca Marais might not be what you are expecting if you’ve read her previous work, but it is very fun, it is witchy, it is feminist, and it is worth the read.

Book Review: Grab Your Pillow Armadillo by Kevin and Haily Meyers Illustrated by Haily Meyers

By Carly Smith

Grab Your Pillow, Armadillo is the pre-bedtime book your family needs to read! This simple, silly, cheerful book will leave your little one in a great mood, ready for a night of comfort and sweet dreams. In the book, the authors use rhyme to say goodnight to a variety of animals. Unlike most children’s and baby books that stick to a particular animal theme (e.g., farm animals, jungle animals, animals that fly), Grab Your Pillow, Armadillo brings readers face-to-face with a mélange of critters including trout, bumblebees, sharks, and seals. Page by page, each animal can be found under a flap, and each animal has its own bedtime routine. It won’t be long before little ones are excited to look behind the flap and finish the sentence. 

There is a lot about this book that draws me in as a primary school teacher and parent to a toddler and a baby. First, the pages are thick and colourful without being overstimulating; this means that text and illustrations grasp attention evenly, so readers and listeners are neither lost in a sea of imagery nor solely concentrating on the words. Second, the ways of saying goodnight differ from animal to animal. Typically, I value repetition in children’s books, but in this case the variation keeps story time lighthearted and lively.

The illustrations are beautiful. Haily Meyers combines texture with simplicity to create beautiful pictures of animals and landscapes with the perfect amount of detail. I imagine the illustrations will inspire little ones who like drawing to take new risks with their interests, and I can also see how Haily’s work could be the base for a great art lesson in a primary classroom. Finally, the text font is just right; it is large and bold and imitates neat and tidy adult printing. It complements the illustrations and tone of the book very well.

Although the book is short and humorous, it nevertheless creates space for follow-up conversations with your little one. It affords the opportunity to learn about animals and their habitats and to practice less common adjectives and verbs. It may trigger an interest in the arts, animals, or outdoor exploration. It may also be a great book to grasp the attention of little ones who have difficulty focusing on an entire book, given its interactive features, rhythm, and illustrations.

Thank you to Gibbs Smith for a complimentary copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.

Book Review: Something is Killing the Children by James Tynion IV, Werther Dell'Edera, and Miquel Muerto

By Dahl Botterill

Content warning: violence, gore

Something is Killing the Children opens with a sleepover. Boys goofing around, playing truth or dare, telling scary stories. Things ramp up quickly though, and by the next morning only one of those boys remains alive, trying to explain the unexplainable to local law enforcement. He’s scared and possibly in shock, so he tells them he didn’t see anything. After a day of abuse at school from kids who think he had a role to play in the tragedy, he’s approached by an odd, wide-eyed young woman who asks him to tell her everything he remembers and promises that she’ll believe every word. “No matter how weird it is. No matter how scary.” Her name is Erica Slaughter, and she hunts monsters.

Book one of Something is Killing the Children collects the first 15 issues of the ongoing comic series into one oversized hardcover volume. It covers Erica’s experiences in a town called Archer’s Peak, and over these 15 issues Tynion introduces enough characters to really breathe life in to the town. Archer’s Peak is made up of people, and those people lend a real gravity to the events taking place. The missing and murdered children have families, and those families don’t always make Erica’s job easier.

James Tynion IV does a great job of worldbuilding here; not only does he create the very alive and mourning town of Archer’s Peak, but he also provides hints as to Erica’s origins with the Order of St. George’s House of Slaughter. Something is Killing the Children is the best kind of slow burn, where the pacing is solid, generating a better story through detail, exploration, and character development rather than rushing from one action sequence to the next. The immediate tale of Archer’s Peak clearly benefits, but so does the series potential in general. Smart writing ensures that much of the fine and fun detail serves both purposes simultaneously, benefiting both the immediate arc and the ongoing series without overwhelming the reader with information unnecessary to either.

Werther Dell’Edera handles the art side of Something is Killing the Children, and he is a very suitable choice. His rougher drawing style doesn’t always feel as polished as some other titles, but it does a phenomenal job of conveying emotion, and in doing so is one of the ways the book really hooks the reader into the pain and loss of Archer’s Peak. It feels very primal, which is a fantastic fit for a book about monsters and people and the fine lines that separate some of them. The art carries emotional weight, and that lends power to the book’s impact.

This isn’t a book that will necessarily grab the reader by the throat from the first pages, but it will quietly tap their interest, and begin to put down roots. As it grows and swells over its duration into something bigger than it initially seems, Something is Killing the Children becomes not only a really great horror comic, but a great book as well.

Book Review: Modern Whore by Andrea Werhun Photography by Nicole Bazuin

By Lauren Bell

The publisher’s blurb of Werhun and Bazuin’s book Modern Whore says that “it’s Playboy if the Playmates were in charge,” and that is honestly the most accurate summary one could give. I’d even add that reading it is also like listening to a Lizzo song: you finish a chapter and come out high on girl power. The sense of love and respect the two creators have for each other is genuine, and this adds to the sense of female empowerment the audience gains from reading Werhun’s story. The book is a blend of memoir and image, the result of a collaboration between Andrean Werhun and filmmaker Nicole Bazuin.

Ultimately, everything we know about the “Modern Whore” is wrong. Encounters with them are more than just sex; they’re whatever their client needs them to be (e.g., smart, funny, a conversationalist, sincere, accepting), and they deserve the same fundamental respect deserved by all women. Werhun’s development into a Modern Whore begins in her adolescence: she’s self-assured, confident, and unapologetic (everything my teenage self wished she could be), and she keeps the values she establishes as a youth with her as she begins her sex work career in university. There’s a lot one can learn from her stories on the job—and not just different positions, but also how one can best support a sex worker (e.g., what’s stigmatizing to say vs. what’s meaningful). Her work is funny in a cynical and satirical way, conveyed by anecdotes she includes aside of the main text, such as her takes on erotic board reviews and tips like “Remind any boundary-pushers that it is your body, your rules, and your safety!” But Werhun also does not shy away from serious topics. For instance, I found her experiences in giving up alcohol and in outreach to be particularly thoughtful.

In the second half of the book, Werhun chronicles her experiences as a dancer and outreach worker, which emphasize the sense of community amongst sex workers and dancers. There’s an unspoken “whore code,” where the workers support each other outwardly in giving advice and cheering their peers on, but also in more subtle ways like leaving supplies in their locker room donation bin. This extends to other, non-sex work-related things as well, which Werhun saw firsthand as she released Modern Whore during the difficult time when the COVID-19 pandemic was shaking the industry. Werhun highlights how resilient and supportive the community is.

What I liked most about her writing is that it is honest, bordering the line of bluntness, regardless whether she’s sharing a personal story or calling out rape culture. Her lack of sugar-coating is refreshing; she writes as if she wants her words to be a mirror in which you can see yourself, and her unique perspective on sex work is insightful. What’s more is that along with her brutal honesty, she’s also forgiving towards her younger self, which I’d argue is one of the most important themes in the book. I hope other readers can take away the theme of self-love the way that I did, among the many others embedded in Modern Whore.

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

Book Review: Last One Alive by Amber Cowie

By Kaylie Seed

Penelope Berkowitz is a bestselling author unable to find inspiration for her second novel. But when she stumbles upon the myth of the Stone Witch in an old journal, she puts together a research team of seemingly unfamiliar strangers who all end up being connected to someone who has recently passed away. Last One Alive is a locked door mystery and thriller that takes readers to Stone Point, a remote island off the coast of the Pacific Northwest in British Columbia. Penelope and her boyfriend lead a ragtag team on a research expedition to the boat-in-only resort with a haunting past. When bodies begin showing up, Penelope and the remaining group members are forced to solve the mystery of the Stone Witch and hope that they can catch the killer before the weekend is over.

Locked door mysteries are a type of plot that I am always a little leery about reading. I find that I am usually able to guess what is going to happen when I am wanting to be completely thrown off guard. Sadly, Last One Alive was too predictable for me; however, Cowie’s prose kept me engaged right until the end. As with most locked door mysteries, there are a lot of characters, and I found a couple of them to blend into one another. At the same time I found others to be unique enough that they were memorable throughout the story.

The subplot about the history of Stone Point and the myth of the Stone Witch had me intrigued and wanting to know even more about this part of the story. This is only a short part of Last One Alive and I would have liked to see it fleshed out more. I found this subplot to be more entertaining than the main plot, as it felt like the main plot lacked originality and zest. Last One Alive is an atmospheric novel and readers who enjoy books written by Ruth Ware and Lucy Foley will appreciate this one.

Thank you to Simon and Schuster Canada for the complimentary copy in exchange for an honest review.

Book Review: The Flooded Earth by Mardi McConnochie

By Christine McFaul

The Flooded Earth is an award-winning cli-fi (climate fiction) novel by Mardi McConnochie. It is the first book in her trilogy that also includes The Castle in the Sea and The Skeleton Coast.

Set in a dystopian future still reeling from the effects of a catastrophic flood, a sharp and arbitrary line has been drawn between places in the world where extensive money and effort have been made to restore people back to a prosperous life and those places where it has not. The story follows twin protagonists, Will and Annalie, who live in slums on the side of the line where people have been left to dredge whatever life they can out of the soggy ruins left behind by cataclysmic climate change.

Will, an avid sailor and tinkerer, remains in their home while the bright and bookish Annalie has just moved away to attend a prestigious private school in one of the most beautiful cities in their country. For the first time, there is friction between the siblings. Will is rankled by how easily his sister abandoned their life and family for a snobby school. While, unbeknownst to Will, Annalie is struggling to fit in amongst her privileged peers who have no idea what life is like outside their perfectly insulated world.

However, when their father goes missing under mysterious circumstances, the twins are set on a course back to one other. With only the family boat and a code hidden in one of Annalie’s old novels to guide them, the two embark on a perilous adventure to discover their father’s secrets and, ultimately, try to save him. Soon they find themselves battling extreme weather, modern-day pirates, and all manner of technical difficulties while trying to stay one step ahead of the corrupt Admiralty (the naval branch of the military that seized power during the floods and refuses to give it up).

Like all great adventure stories, The Flooded Earth is plot-y and fast-paced. It starts off at a sprint and never slows down, creating a literary race-to-the finish. The world-building is well-executed, suggesting an eerily possible version of a dystopian future, with just the right amount of tech advances to enhance, rather than impede, the plotting. Despite its fast pace, the story is anchored (pun very much intended!) within themes that are sure to strike a chord with its contemporary readership, exploring issues that range from environmental impact to inequality, refugees, and corruption. The narrative is written in 3rd person point of view that toggles between Will and Annalise but also chooses strategic moments to enter the thoughts and feelings of key characters along the way. The overall effect is a story that feels strong and determined but not yet cynical. 

The Flooded Earth is a tale that is both whimsical and strange, contemporary, and new. A unique read for the upper middle-grade reader (9-12). Sure to suck them in and keep them absorbed until the very last word.

Thank you, Pajama Press, for the complimentary copy in exchange for an honest review.

Book Review: Enough Light for the Next Step by Annie Wenger-Nabigon

By Caprice Hogg

This beautifully written memoir describes a love story and demonstrates how two people from dramatically different upbringings, cultures, and spiritual beliefs can come together and share a profoundly happy life. For ten years, Annie was married to her husband Herb when he suddenly passed away. She describes her journey through grief and gives us a personal account of their deep relationship. She left her Mennonite roots in the United States and moved to Northern Ontario to be with her husband. The author gives us a glance into her life with an Oji-Cree man, absorbing his way of life, his spirituality, and his profound teachings. We get a glimpse from the outside, looking in on a world not available to most of us. This gives us a sense of how we can incorporate these ancient Indigenous teachings into our own lives.

I was originally drawn to this book as I have been through my own deep grief. Annie gives her perspective on how to navigate these troubled times when it seems impossible for life to go on without your loved one by your side. She talks openly about grief but also balances the pain of the absence of her husband by sharing the joy that she carries within her from the years they had together. She writes of the Spirit of Indigenous teachings that give strength, encouragement, and hope. She shares the ancient wisdom that she learned from her husband.

The author also gives a personal account of growing up as a young, white Mennonite girl in a strict family. She continues to work on dissolving what she calls “The Suppression of Happiness Disorder”. Her upbringing dramatically differed from her husband’s as he went to residential schools in Canada. While she does not go into great details about the atrocities he experienced, she does tell stories from his childhood and how he grew up with problems of addiction and anger. Herb referred to the negative aspects of his personality as “rascals”, and Annie writes about how he was able to acknowledge and deal with these “rascals”. By using the traditional wisdom of the Anishinaabe, Herb was able to overcome his addictions and spent his life teaching, writing and travelling around the world, sharing his wisdom, and helping others.

This book not only tells the life story of Annie’s incredible journey but also honours and cherishes the life of her husband. It is a wealth of information and knowledge that is respectfully passed on to those who read it and hopefully benefit from the teachings. For me, this one line describes the book perfectly:

“Following Herb’s death, my personal goal of writing about the things Herb had wanted to put in his second book, which we’d been unable to complete, has been a guiding light for me. It has been a way for me to continue the conversation with him and hold closely the treasure of his wisdom.”

Thanks to Latitude 46 Publishing for the complimentary copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.

Book Review: Ghosts by Dolly Alderton

By Carly Smith

Lighthearted yet contemplative, Ghosts should most certainly be bumped higher in your To Be Read stack. Dolly Alderton has created the perfect book to add to your overnight bag for a weekend at the cottage, or pack in your carry-on tote for some downtime during a work trip. In Ghosts, Nina George Dean chronicles a year in her life—from age 32 to 33—touching on family, friends, and romance. There is a lot happening in Nina’s life, but no single event stands out or exhausts her energy more than another. She is settling into her career writing books about food, living in a house-turned-apartment building where she is constantly bothered by her downstairs neighbour, and navigating a stressful and ongoing family situation. Among the ins and outs of these daily circumstances, she also is trying to find romantic love and maintain old and new friendships.

Ghosts takes place in present day London, England. Alderton frequently drops names of neighbourhoods and landmarks to keep local readers feeling a sense of familiarity and not-so-local readers fantasizing about the foreign metropolis. Nina enjoys her London life and cannot see herself elsewhere. She is a loyal friend, introspective and at times petty, and values relationships and quality time with her loved ones. Alderton carefully creates a main character who is not perfect, and it’s a breath of fresh air. Aside from Nina, several other noteworthy characters weave in and out of the smoothly paced chapters including her friend Lola, love interest Max, and Nina’s mom. Lola is a loveable, bright, spirited woman. A good friend and charming acquaintance, Lola complements Nina’s social awkwardness and nonchalance. Max is Nina’s first go at online dating. He is intense and mysterious. Sometimes he seems like exactly what Nina needs in a partner, and other times he comes across as someone she should have immediately swiped left on. Nina’s mom, Mandy—or Nancy—is too preoccupied with her own hobbies to dedicate sufficient attention to her ailing husband. She brings out the pragmatism in Nina, adding a depth to the protagonist that makes her even more relatable.

The themes in Ghosts, including love, friendship, and family, intertwine gracefully to create a narrative which at times ignites nostalgia in readers, and at other times provokes a desire to consider the future. Alderton makes her readers feel a breadth of emotions without delving too deeply into a particular one. This book is suitable for anyone seeking a casual read. It is a fantastic option if you’re between heavier books, or if you are looking for something not too serious or time consuming. Although quite carefree, Ghosts will manage to haunt you in ways you may have forgotten you could be moved.

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

Book Review: Umboi Island by J.J. Dupuis

By Kaylie Seed

Umboi Island is the third installment of the Creature X Mysteries series. Readers are reacquainted with Laura Reagan, host of the show Creature X, as she decides to head to Papua New Guinea with her team. Laura and her team are attempting to track down a pterosaur called a Ropen, that supposedly survived extinction. As with the two previous novels in this series, a body shows up—but this time it is someone from the team's past. Similar to the other novels in this series, it is a whodunit plot but this time with a “locked door” element, as Laura and her team are stuck on an island with a murderer. 

Laura's character development takes a different turn in this third novel. While in the past two books she came across as a team player, in Umboi Island she is beginning to take risks that could hurt her team because she is hungry to solve mysteries. Despite the shift in Laura’s  character arc, readers will still enjoy her story. There are numerous secondary characters, and much like the other two novels the characters feel underdeveloped and cramped. If there were a smaller cast of secondary characters it would be easier for the reader to remember who is who, and also give the opportunity for the characters to shine in their own right.

Readers may be expecting more cryptozoology throughout this series but it’s a tad underwhelming in that aspect. Meant to be read as more of a mystery, the Creature X Mysteries series consists of human interactions through mysteries rather than people searching for cryptids. Dupuis does a fantastic job at describing the surroundings in Umboi Island and throughout the entire series. Readers may go into this series thinking there is more cryptozoology than there actually is; instead, they will be met with a series of mysteries of the human kind.

Thank you to Dundurn Press for the complimentary copy in exchange for an honest review.

Book Review: Son of Elsewhere by Elamin Abdelmahmoud

By Larissa Page

Despite Elamin Abdelmahmoud being a culture journalist for Buzzfeed and part of CBC programming such as the Pop Chat and Party Lines podcasts, I was not familiar with him before receiving this memoir to read. The description pulled me in though, specifically because I love a memoir that gives me an education into a different type of life than I’ve lived, as well as giving me insight into a person’s growth and experiences. Son of Elsewhere gave me all those things and more. I was a little unsure at first whether I’d be as drawn in to the memoir-in-essays style of writing but I absolutely was.

Abdelmahmoud was born and raised in Sudan before immigrating to Canada with his family when he was a preteen. They decided to settle in Kingston, Ontario, which he claims in the opening of this book to be the whitest city in Canada, which means he had to come to terms with his Blackness (skin colour wasn’t something he’d considered about himself before then). This memoir explores how he adapted to Canadian life as a Black person, as an immigrant who initially spoke no English, and as a Muslim, and how he grew into an adult who was both Sudanese and Canadian.

He uses his essays to tell us about different parts of his life, not in chronological order, along with some history and background on different parts of Sudanese culture and the immigrant experience. The stories from his life are funny and also heartbreaking; some involve longing and some love. I felt the full range of emotions while reading this memoir and I didn’t have any trouble picking the book back up and continuing my journey through it.

I personally found I related to the stories much more than I expected to. I am not Black, I am not an immigrant, and English is my only language—but I was a preteen in Canada at the same time as Elamin, which means we shared experiences with the things that were popular at the time. I found this so interesting, seeing the parts of my experiences and his that are similar even though our life stories are so vastly different.

Abdelmahmoud’s writing is funny; I chuckled at his stories multiple times. His writing is also full of emotion. When reading about his mother, his love for his wife, and his longing for his family he left behind in Sudan, I often had tears in my eyes. The stories he writes are real and meaningful and important to share. They are accessible for people who share the same types of experiences, and more importantly, those who don’t.

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

Book Review: Like Animals by Eve Lemieux

By Carolina Moriello

Content warning: sex, drugs, addiction, suicide, death, depression 

 “Dark and violent but with a touch of vulnerability that shines with hope.”  

Set in Montréal, Like Animals by Eve Lemieux tells the sad and complicated story of Philomena “Philly” Flynn. Philly self-destructs after having her heart broken and tries to fill the void and escape the pain with drugs, alcohol, and lots of sex. However, the more Philly tries to escape the pain, the worse it gets. In addition to this, her father becomes very ill and her relationship with her mother is as distant and rocky as ever. It feels as though Philly’s life is spiralling out of control, and the only way to stop it is to escape it all together.

It is difficult not to get frustrated with Philly and her destructive tendencies. The story almost reads like a vicious cycle of happiness, pain, numbness, and rock bottom, over and over again. As frustrating as it is, this story is a good reminder that sometimes people cannot be saved until they are ready to save themselves. Such is the case with Philly. She is a masochist at heart, who finds comfort living in the past. Any time things appear to go well in her life, she believes she is undeserving, and finds a way to ruin it and enter her cycle of pain once again. The ending of the story does send a clear message to the reader though, that no matter how hard things get, there is always hope for a better future if you believe in yourself and your self-worth.

If you are looking for an easy read, this is not the book for you. Eve Lemieux wrote a story that is heartbreaking it reads like poetry at times. There were moments when the book became so dark and heavy that breaks had to be taken. When Philly hits absolute rock bottom, the pain is felt so deeply within the pages that it is hard not to become emotional or empathetic to her pain. If you read this book, proceed with caution and be aware of the trigger warnings.

Thank you to Dundurn Press for the complimentary copy in exchange for an honest review!