Book Review: The Nature of Witches by Rachel Griffin

By Robyn Rossit

The Nature of Witches by Rachel Griffin is a timely and easy-to-read addition to the YA fantasy genre. I was stunned to learn that this was the author’s debut. Set in modern times, witches have maintained the climate for centuries; however, climate change is causing some erratic and off-season weather, leading witches to deplete their power at an alarming rate. A witch’s power is tied to the season in which they were born, but Clara, the protagonist, is a rare ever witch whose power is tied to every season. She is powerful, but her magic is volatile, causing her to distance herself from the ones she loves. The price of her magic often means losing loved ones, and she often feels like she must choose between her power and her happiness.

The Nature of Witches is a coming-of-age story that touches on themes of grief and the pressures of power. Clara is still a young witch attending school but has so much riding on her as she is unique and is essential to preventing natural disasters unlike anything anyone has seen before. However, losing control means endangering the people she loves, which not only isolates her but also causes her to resent her gifts.

What I loved the most about the Nature of Witches was that the evil the witches were fighting against was climate change caused by human carelessness. It wasn't a demon, dragon or anything else you would typically find in a fantasy book, but something we are fighting in everyday life, which made it very relatable. 

The writing is beautiful, and there are so many scenes that elicited beautiful seasonal imagery as the book takes the reader through a full year, season by season. My head was full of flowers in the spring and colourful, crisp leaves in the fall. There were so many scenes I could see vividly in my mind's eye.

Rachel Griffin certainly exceeded at writing a beautiful and relatable work of YA fantasy. I think even readers who don't usually read the genre would enjoy it. Even though it touched on some real-world issues, it was done in an easy-to-read way that doesn't overwhelm the reader. While it is a standalone novel, I cannot wait to see what else Griffin has up her sleeve.

Book Review: My Book of Butterflies by Geraldo Valério

By Kaylie Seed

Geraldo Valério has always found butterflies to be fascinating and enjoyed watching them transform—from caterpillars to chrysalides to finally becoming butterflies. Valério wanted to create a book where he could share his love of butterflies and their life cycle with children. My Book of Butterflies looks at the life cycle of butterflies, where butterflies live, and the parts of the butterfly, and then goes into detail about various butterflies found around the world. Valério’s passion comes through in My Book of Butterflies and will likely encourage children to learn more about these beautiful creatures. 

Valério created the images of butterflies in his children’s book by layering paper into collages, which gives the butterflies a 3-D effect. The artwork is stunning, vibrant, and detailed, and is a nice complement to the scientific aspects of My Book of Butterflies. Valério shows each butterfly in its caterpillar state, with its wings open, and with its wings closed, to show just how unique each of these bugs are in their different states. My Book of Butterflies also mentions the butterflies’ scientific name, some interesting facts about each butterfly, and what they eat. 

This is a fun and educating read for ages 7–9 as they start to learn about the world around them in more detail. My Book of Butterflies is a great resource for parents and children to learn about the different butterflies around the world while also being able to admire the gorgeous artwork that Valério has clearly put his heart into.

Thank you to Groundwood Books for the complimentary copy in exchange for an honest review!

Book Review: Women Talking by Miriam Toews

By Danielle Szewc

Content warning: references to sexual assault, rape, pedophilia, suicide

Women Talking by Miriam Toews gives a fictional voice to the multiple assaults of over 100 Bolivian Mennonite women who were drugged with cattle anesthetics and raped by several men from their colony from 2005 to 2009. As with the women in Bolivia, the women of Molotschna—Toews' fictional South American colony—initially believe the assaults that occurred before the novel takes place to be divine punishment by demons. The assaults are also dismissed by the colony's leader, Peters, as made-up dreams and products of the hysterical female imagination. Once the men are proven to be the assailants, Peters only has the men arrested to avoid being harmed by the vengeful women.

Toews, an ex-Mennonite herself, creates a fictional narrative of the women's two days of decision making. It secretly takes place in a hayloft while the men of the colony are posting bail for the eight men who assaulted the women. The two choices the women have are to either stay and fight the men in the colony or leave the colony and all they know forever. These eight women know they cannot do nothing and have limited time to make a life-changing decision for the women of the colony. They have asked August Epp, the only man in the colony they trust due to his past ex-communication and friendship with Ona Friesen, to record the minutes of their meeting as Mennonite women are not taught how to read or write.

Having August as the minute taker showed that there is hope and allyship in men, as well as that it was necessary for the given situation and circumstances. The women want a written record of their voices, their first act of defiance against the colony, and ownership of themselves. However, his feelings for Ona take away from this aspect as he states he is only taking the minutes since he is in love with her.

The women make difficult decisions based on their upbringing and faith—can they forgive the men so they are able to enter the Kingdom of God, and if not, where would they go as they can neither read nor write and have no knowledge of the outside world. The women make valid arguments as they struggle with their beliefs before making a final decision.

The use of the different ages and generations within the same matriarchal families adds to the principal themes of family and upbringing displayed in Toews' novel. Faith and its role in creating the idea of the submissive female is called into question as these women realize they can be the writers of their own lives. Overall, in Women Talking, Toews has expertly crafted and created a #metoo piece for women whose voices may never be fully heard.

Book Review: My Mother's Daughter by Perdita Felicien

By Christina McLaurine

Content warnings: domestic abuse and violence

My Mother's Daughter is a raw and honest intergenerational story of two-time Olympian Perdita Felicien and her mother, Catherine. Felicien is candid and open in her memoir as she details her mother's life in St. Lucia prior to immigrating to Canada and the struggles and challenges she faced while trying to gain citizenship. Felicien's upbringing, athletic career, and transition into journalism are told in tandem with Catherine's story.

My Mother's Daughter is equal parts inspiring and heartbreaking. Felicien writes, “I came to believe that every single person is a hurdler, even if they don’t know it. While most aren’t sprinting over literal fences, everyone has something to overcome. Sometimes we fall in our attempts, and that’s okay because there is always a reason to pick yourself up and move forward.” Before Felicien even knew what a hurdle was, she was jumping them with her mother. Despite the ill-treatment, abuse, and poverty, Catherine remained determined to make a better life for herself and her children on Canadian soil. Through it all, no matter the hurdle, they were her reason to keep moving forward.

This same tenacity and determination are evident in Felicien’s recount of the 2004 Athens Olympics. Readers will find themselves holding their breaths and at the edge of their seats as Felicien shares her side of the story and the events that unfolded in the aftermath of this pivotal moment in both her life and athletic career. She doesn't shy away from talking about the grief and devastation that followed, as well as her struggle to come to terms and make sense of it all. Felicien proves that she is her mother's daughter as she picked herself up and forges ahead just as her mother had during previous adversities.

Felicien's prose is clear, and the story easy to follow. Told in chronological order, My Mother's Daughter is divided into three parts, allowing the reader to easily situate where they are in Catherine's and Felicien's story. The admiration Felicien feels for her mother is evident on every page. My Mother's Daughter will give readers familiar with Felicien and her quest for Olympic gold a chance to see a different, more intimate side of the former track and field star.

Thank you to Doubleday Canada for the complimentary copy in exchange for an honest review!

Book Review: The Girl With All the Gifts by M.R. Carey

By Dahl Botterill

Years ago, the first time I saw The Girl With All the Gifts sitting on a shelf, I noted Carey's name on the cover and thought it seemed interesting that there was another Carey out there writing. That it should be the same writer that I knew from the pages of Hellblazer and Lucifer didn't occur to me at all. Maybe I'd have read it much sooner had I known. Regardless, I'm certainly glad to have done so now.

The Girl With All the Gifts opens slowly and carefully, first introducing a young girl named Melanie and her teacher Miss Justineau. Melanie's entire life consists of a cell, a corridor, a classroom, and a shower room that she sees once a week. She lives alone in the cell, attends classes with other children in the classroom, and uses the corridor to travel between the two, strapped into a wheelchair and under armed guard. Melanie has a few teachers, but only Miss Justineau matters to her. Miss Justineau is kind, thoughtful, and—though Melanie perhaps doesn't initially realize this for what it is—sometimes sees the children as children. This is notable because, as we soon learn, the children are not merely children, but an anomalous type of monster that can think and feel when they're not desperately trying to eat people, and Melanie's world is a bunker in a military base, one of the few remaining strongholds of civilization in a world overrun by zombies.

Things soon fall apart, as things so often do in these stories, and Carey focuses for much of the story on a few individuals. The plot is not complicated, but that isn't really a problem, as the driving force behind The Girl With All the Gifts is in the characters. Melanie and her companions are pretty archetypal at first, but as they are each forced to compromise and develop during their journey, they grow into more realized individuals.

Miss Justineau never ceases to be a teacher, Caldwell will always be an obsessed scientist, and the soldiers are still soldiers, but as they explore the world that humanity has lost control over, they each become much more than their role. 

Melanie develops the most, of course, as she's experiencing almost every aspect of the world for the first time, but some of the most interesting aspects of her growth relate to her relationship with those around her and the power dynamics between them. She goes from being rendered almost powerless because of the way her potential power is feared, to gaining more autonomy, but also a different sort of power—more about what she is capable of as a person than her potential for violence as a monster.

M. R. Carey's The Girl With All the Gifts is a great read, slipping from horrifying to human and back again, reveling in the struggle to find hope at the end of the world.

Book Review: Iron Widow by Xiran Jay Zhao

By Megan Amato

Content warnings: attempted rape, violence, misogyny, domestic abuse, femicide, torture, murder, alcohol addiction

"Iron Widow is both a celebration of my favorite aspects of my culture and a critique of its worst beliefs, but as you read this book, I urge you to remember that misogyny is not exclusive to Chinese culture—it is everywhere in the world." – Author's note 

Xiran Jay Zhao's YA sci-fi novel Iron Widow is an ode to angry girls everywhere. Based loosely on figures in Chinese history, including China's only female emperor, it's a breathtaking novel that doesn't shy away from topics often listed as taboo in teen fiction. In almost every way, this book defies norms that we often see in YA—and even adult—fiction.

Huaxia is like any patriarchal society: men rule, and woman are subjected to having to support the men’s whims and dreams at the cost of themselves. This is often literally the case as young and often poor women are sent as concubines to young male pilots who use the women as "co-pilots" to power their chrysalises—transforming robots made from the exoskeleton of the aliens invading their homeland. 

After 18-year-old Zeitan's sister is killed by the most famous and beloved pilot, Zeitan plans revenge and volunteers herself as his concubine. After she kills him during flight and takes over the chrysalis, she is named an Iron Widow. To silence her, the powers that be force her to co-pilot with the notorious Li Shimin, murderer, and the strongest contemporary pilot—no girl has ever survived as his co-pilot. After failing to kill him, Zeitan begins to suspect that Li's reputation isn't what it is made out to be, and they form a reluctant partnership. Threatened by the combined power of a criminal and young woman, Huaxia sends them to be sacrificed in a battle, but they come up victorious. With the help of the rich boy she left behind, they form a trio that schemes to ensure they are too valuable to kill, and to stop the needless death of girls to power chrysalises—by whatever means—and change history in Huaxia. 

Let me start out by raving about the polyamorous relationship. Yes, you read that right. Zhao doesn't make you go through the angst-filled "which one will she choose," but instead says, "why can't she have both?" and more, "why can't the men love each other too?" Of course, there are some hiccups, as these are three humans, but it has nothing to do with jealously and everything to do with respect and people repeatedly trying to kill them. 

I have a particular fondness for angry female characters. And if they stay angry throughout the novel, withholding forgiveness, even better (I'm not sure what that says about me, but there you go). Zeitan is not exactly "good." She's a morally grey character—but her anger is just. It stems from societal gender and class barriers that have shaped a life in which her parents disvalue her, abuse her, and pressure her into signing up as a concubine so they will profit from her death. Her placement in the world has molded her into a character who will do anything for freedom—but it also makes her angry, brave, and desperate enough to set out to ensure that no girl will face what she does again.

This book has quickly punched its way to one of my top three reads of the year. It's a brilliantly fleshed out story with exhilarating worldbuilding and characters who grab you by the throat and don't let go. The ending was—I won't ruin it for you, so let's just say I'm already holding my breath for book two.

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

Book Review: A History of My Brief Body by Billy-Ray Belcourt

By Meredith Grace Thompson

Content warning: coarse language, violence, racism, homophobia 

Billy-Ray Belcourt’s first book of prose, defined in tiny print on a beautifully collaged cover as memoir, is magnanimous. A continuation of the strong voice established in his previous poetic works, A History of My Brief Body is a series of lingering essays, each bookmarking an event, time, idea, or moment of becoming in the weaving together of poetry, theory, social commentary, and phenomenological embodiment. Belcourt offers up an ontology of queerness, Indigeneity, and what it is to be a self inside of a body or a body inside of a self, pressing up against a world which intentionally pushes you away. The actualities of the ecosystem of racism in which all Canadians swim come starkly to light in scenes where Belcourt’s speaker comes face to face with public health systems—“Hospitals have always been enemy territory. My body, too brown to be innocent, enflames the nurses’ racialized curiosity”—as well as sexual fetishization of queer Indigenous men. Looking at the echoing and yet constantly present nature of colonialism and the deeply ingrained culture of white, cis, heteronormative supremacy, Belcourt questions and illuminates systems of dominance and oppression from both the macro and hyper-individualistic levels.   

Belcourt’s narrator is a fictionalized or perhaps intellectualized or perhaps hyper-realistic version of himself. He is expansive in his discourse. Looking at the colonial constructions of gender and enforced normative performance of a European masculinity, Belcourt examines the ways in which white patriarchal ideas of domination have colonized Indigenous lives, ricocheting throughout Indigenous communities and oppressing those within further, as men taught violent masculinity “bombard the lives of women and girls, two-spirit peoples, and queers.” Using fragmentation and philosophy rather than fiction, Belcourt recounts the lived rather than invented nature of a life in poetry, balanced precariously within a theoretical framework: “as a poet I couldn’t break the habit of trying to make the world and thus my lived life into an art object.” But “no one runs to theory unless there is a dirt road in [them]” and theory can often be our greatest and most poetic escape.  

Belcourt writes the philosophy I have always wanted to read. Connected to the intimacies of his own life and yet expansive as great ideas necessitate, Belcourt is one of the strongest voices in contemporary Canadian literature. A History of My Brief Body is a perfect example of a hybrid in-between-ness. This book, free from constraints of plot or of narrative construct, luxuriates in a sort of scholarly sharing. It is writing that could not possibly be other without damaging itself—if only slightly—answering the question of what exactly the purpose of writing is in the time of filmmaking. I feel lifted up by this book. Of course, it is easy to fall in love with a philosopher who expands your mind and makes you feel individually seen and spoken to. Billy-Ray Belcourt is such a philosopher. 

Book Review: Green Horses on the Walls by Cristina A. Bejan

By Irina Moga

Content warning: sexual violence

Cristina A. Bejan is a poet, historian, and theatre artist who hails from Denver, Colorado. An Oxford DPhil, Rhodes, and Fulbright scholar, she is also the author of eighteen plays produced in several countries. 

Green Horses on the Walls, her first collection of poems, is a 2021 Independent Press Book Award Winner and the 2021 Colorado Authors’ League Book Award for cover design—which is also Bejan's creation.

In Green Horses on the Walls, Cristina A. Bejan delivers a poignant quest for identity that transforms the rawness of everyday events and unbearable trauma into a fluid and polyphonic poetic discourse.

Some of the poems in this collection were included in the show Lady Godiva, part of the Mead Theatre Lab Program in February 2016; the chapbook's tone vibrates with immediacy and, at times, whimsical humour. It engages the reader in media res of personal experiences, reinterpreted through witty lines:

"Things could be worse
Parents with cancer
Love of your life leaves you for the priesthood
You could have more than mental health "issues" and actually be totally insane 
….
Never cry
Not sleep enough
Swear off chocolate" (2)

The bittersweet decoding of Bejan's heritage, starting with "A Tricky Diaspora," introduces us to a suite of poems that reveal the pain inflicted by the Communist regime in Romania and how this suffering echoed through generations and across geographies. It is a tortuous thread that the poet is willing to surface and, in doing so, lets readers judge for themselves the facts narrated. 

A key poem in the volume, "Green Horses on the Walls," can be read as the allegory of a tipping point in which the writer comes to realize that art is precisely what keeps her in step with her inner self:

"My truth is displayed on the open canvas of my art
My truth runs with the green horses
Through the fields, down Rockville Pike, and eventually all the way through 
            the heart of DC—14th St." (14)

But the darkest and, arguably, most daring narrative in the book comes to us towards its end, in sequences of betrayed love, rape, and its effects that Bejan recounts in a gripping monologue:

"Thank you for proving that not all rape victims look alike
Thank you for proving that there is a reason for the ‘little black dress’ 

       stereotype as I was indeed wearing one" (32)

It's a moment of gloom and dissolution. Yet, we sense that the author has surpassed it through her faith, anger, and the catharsis of writing.

This poetry volume made me think of a quote by Shelley: "Poetry is a mirror which makes beautiful that which is distorted."

In a brave new world in flux, millennial writers like Cristina A. Bejan are likely to find their way towards this perennial aesthetic goal. 

In Conversation with Marissa Stapley author of Lucky

With Tyra Forde

Photo Credit: Eugene Choi

What inspired you to include in each chapter of Lucky both a flashback from the past and a snapshot of the present? The result formed an incredible overview of Lucky’s life. How did you keep the different timelines separate yet cohesive to form the bigger picture in the story?  

It was so important for me that my reader really want Lucky to be able to redeem that lottery ticket, to be rooting for her the entire book through – and very early on in the writing process I realized the only way to do that would be to go back in time. I knew if the reader understood her the way I did – which is to say, knew everything that had happened to her from birth to the present moment – they’d want her to win. And I wanted that because I wanted the ride with Lucky to be fun, and to feel good. I figured with everything that was going on in the world (and in my personal life; my mother was very ill as I was writing the novel and eventually passed away) this was exactly what was needed. 

Keeping track of timelines is a tricky thing. I have author friends who use special programs and software. I’ve tried that, and I probably should try it again. But I always find myself drawn to simply using large sheets of paper and a pencil, mapping it all out by hand. I get lost sometimes, and other times realize I need to rearrange things so the story flows better. At that point it feels like a jigsaw puzzle, which is to say challenging and frustrating – but also incredibly satisfying to get right. 

As a follow-up to the first question, what was your writing process for Lucky? Did you write each chapter in order or did you write large sections of either the past or present narratives individually? 

I had already written about half of the novel before I realized I needed to start putting everything I knew about Lucky’s childhood on the page. So I ended up writing most of her really young childhood chapter portions at once. But when her past started to catch up with her present, I tended to write those chapters and timelines in tandem. 

What I loved most about writing those past chapters – particularly the ones involving her as a young child – was that I was getting a chance to show what I already knew about her. That doesn’t always happen, even though most authors do know (or should know) everything there is to know about their main characters. In some of my past books, I’ve had scenes I’ve loved and wanted to include, scenes that dealt with past events, but they ended up cut because as much as I liked those scenes they had no proper bearing on the moments at hand. That was never the case here, because I was weaving the past with the present – and as I did it, it came so easily and I knew each of those past scenes had a place in the story. I found writing Lucky to be exactly the pleasure I needed it to be, in large part because of those dips into a past I was already so familiar with and compelled by, and will be grateful for that for a long time. 

Lucky is a character that readers will root for until the very end. How do you write characters that are neither good nor evil but manage to keep them likable to readers even when the characters might make the wrong decision?  

I got to share Lucky’s past with my readers. With other books, I may not have been able to share it all on the page, but I always knew it – which meant, no matter what (even with characters like Miles from The Last Resort) I understood where the character was coming from. Even if I didn’t like that character (Miles!!), I felt something for them. You have to, to write anything truly authentic.  

I remember watching the moving ‘Maleficent’ with my kids when they were little and feeling like it was a lesson for my kids about the world: that people who are hurt and damaged will hurt and damage in return, but that does not necessarily make them bad people (and we need to be careful not to hurt others, because it will start a bad pattern). But it was also a lesson for me about characters. It reminded me to always go back and try to find that moment when the character begins to become who they are when we meet them. With most of my characters, that’s easy to do and a labour of love. With characters who may have more evil than good in them, it can be tough – but it’s still necessary. 

With Lucky, I didn’t want to create a criminal character who was compelling and fascinating, yes, but also unquestionably bad. I never like the way I feel at the end of a story when I’m rooting for someone without a moral compass. I needed her to feel every crime she commited, to have regrets and a desire to set things right. That’s also why I chose to make her a con artist. People love con artists -- in fiction, at least! As far as I’m concerned (and I’m up at the cottage re-watching the Oceans movies with my son, so am really feeling it keenly) there is nothing more entertaining on screen or page than a good con or heist. It’s just so much fun to watch! And was fun to create, too.

Lucky takes readers on a riveting road trip from the West to East Coast. Was there a location featured in the book that had special meaning or was of particular interest for you to write? 

A few years ago I went on a road trip with my family to the Adirondacks. I knew at the time I wanted to set something there, or at least write something where some of the meaningful scenes happened in the Adirondacks. So when Lucky came along, and she was traveling from coast to coast – and, especially when her father wanted to take her somewhere he considered special on vacation – that location came to mind. 

One of our best memories of that trip was swimming at Chapel Pond, so I’m really glad I was able to work that into the book and make it such a poignant moment. Also, I don’t drive so having Lucky needing to get from place to place without the use of a car was easy for me to write. 

Did your former career as a sports journalist influence your career or writing style as a fiction author? 

I love that you asked this question because I’m mulling over a book right now that is bringing me back to those early days in my career as a sports journalist. That’s all I can say at the moment.  It often feels like so long ago that I forget it happened! But it did happen, and working as a journalist certainly did inform my future career as an author. I’m now very deadline oriented, and find it almost impossible to work without one. So if my editors don’t give me a deadline, I create one for myself and work towards it. The people I work with are often surprised by how prolific I can be -- and I know that comes from having worked in a world where deadlines weren’t a choice. In journalism school, the idea of never missing a deadline was really emphasized. And my dad was a newspaper reporter, so I understood the concept of a deadline, and what it meant to miss one, at a very young age.  

Working as a sports journalist also made me able to see the story in everything. To this day I love good sports journalism because it can contain a particular kind of beauty and joy I’m constantly nostalgic for. 

What can we expect from your upcoming novel, The Holiday Swap, cowritten with Karma Brown under the pen name Maggie Knox?

Karma and I hatched a plan to write a feel-good holiday rom com in March 2020, during our first lockdown. We were lonely, and the world was in turmoil. The idea to write a holiday romance was really just a lark at first, a way for us to distract ourselves from everything going on.  I don’t think we believed we’d actually do it, but found it entertaining to throw ideas around and talk about the most delicious and delightful  plot ideas we could come up with – just for fun! But somewhere along the way, we fell in love with the idea. We wrote a book that has everything we love and look forward to about the holidays: snow, baking, family …  and threw in the kind of love stories that can only be found in holiday romance movies, which we both enjoy. (There are two love stories in our book because it’s a twin swap. SO fun!) I think the result surprised us both. It’s charming, but also poignant and compelling. And I think because of who we are as writers it offers more than a typical romance might: it’s modern and feminist, too. It feels like the perfect holiday read, and we can’t wait to share it with readers soon. 

Lucky is a story about hope. What advice would you give to aspiring authors who are hoping to get published?

My best advice is that publishing is a marathon, not a race. It will likely not happen at the pace you want it to – and is a tough road! You have to be resilient and determined. You have to be willing to put one project aside and try something new. I have a few unpublished manuscripts in drawers, and that’s ok! Each had something to teach me. But yes, putting them aside did break my heart at the time.  So maybe that’s the last bit of advice I have: know that even if you do get your heart broken, it won’t be the end of your publishing dreams –but only if you have the strength and will to get up and keep trying. And the ability to learn something from those unpublished books and stories. 

What is your “must-read” book recommendation and what book has had the most impact and influence on your writing?

A Prayer for Owen Meany. My husband doesn’t read much fiction (except mine) and a few years ago asked me to recommend one guaranteed good fiction read. The pressure! The anxiety! But he loved it. (Despite the fact that he spent most of his time reading it dealing with me watching him nervously.) He read the last page,  looked up and told me he was a better person for having read it. 

Owen Meany might be the book that has had the most impact and influence on my writing, too. Or at least, one of them. There have been many. But I know after I read it (and I was quite young, maybe 14?) I felt this call to become a writer who could at least attempt to make people feel the way I did as I read it. A good story should be so much more than just a compelling yarn. There should be mystery, secrets kept and revealed, the unrelenting urge to turn those pages, yes – but for a book to be great, there needs to be more. I want my books – even the holiday rom coms! – to achieve that more. Thinking about this is a good reminder of  what I want to try to create in the future, and why I want to write at all. 

Book Review: Lucky by Marissa Stapley

By Tyra Forde

Content warning: miscarriage, graphic scenes

Lucky, the fourth novel by Canadian author Marissa Stapley, will take you on a road trip so enthralling, pages will be turning as fast as a moving vehicle. The novel isn’t thrilling for its heists, which Luciana “Lucky” Armstrong and her boyfriend, Cary, have already carried out, but rather how long Lucky will survive once she’s left alone. Broke and using an alter ego that is now wanted across the country, Lucky gets a glimmer of hope from an old lottery ticket she purchased. With the tagline of the novel, Stapley asks the million-dollar question: 

What if you had the winning ticket that would change your life forever, but you couldn’t cash it?

From the West to East Coast, Lucky clings to the small slip of paper that could be her getaway car from the life of crime she’s always wanted to leave. But she soon learns to have a chance at the cash, she will also need to cling to her father, who she pushed away; her mother, who abandoned her at birth; and her boyfriend, with whom she has built a life with. A story about integrity, family, and forgiveness, Lucky is a novel with a character you will root for until the bitter end. 

Broken into two parts, each chapter contains both the current narrative and a flashback to Lucky’s adolescence. Now in her mid-twenties, the memories serve to round out her life story without excessive exposition weighing down the main plot. The flashbacks also allow perspectives of secondary characters to shine through, which reveals key information about Lucky’s history. Stapley is successful in this strategy. The flashbacks continue until the past catches up to the present in an exhilarating yet hopeful conclusion that had me craving a sequel even though the standalone novel is nicely bookended.   

Lucky explores the spectrum of good and evil and the importance of honesty through its titular character. Lucky may not always be on the side of right, but her eternal optimism shows her heart is in the right place even when her head makes a wrong decision. 

At just over 230 pages, the novel is fast-paced and well-timed and constantly left me curious about what would come next. Stapley’s writing style is dynamic and easily matches the personalities of the various characters both in Lucky’s life and the characters that she creates to cover her tracks as she races across the country. The novel has been optioned for television and based on my enjoyment of the book, I would gladly watch the TV show and read other books written by Stapley. 

Book Review: Magma by Thóra Hjörleifsdóttir

By Kaylie Seed

Content Warning: graphic depictions of self-harm, suicide, gaslighting, emotional abuse, mental illness

Magma is Þóra (Thóra) Hjörleifsdóttir’s debut novel and is it ever an important read. Icelandic university student Lilja has fallen head over heels for a young man and quickly learns that love isn’t always as it seems. Lilja has allowed herself to fall for this unnamed man and along the path of her destruction, she weaves a story about deceit, pain, manipulation, love, hopelessness, and the desire to be wanted. Hjörleifsdóttir has written a piece of Icelandic literary fiction that is visceral, poetic, and dark.

The reader won’t get to know other characters as well as they will get to know Lilja and they won’t even find out her lover’s name. The reason is that this is Lilja’s story to tell and the name of her lover is moot in this instance. As Magma progresses the reader will witness Lilja’s undoing as she becomes destructive to everything in her life. Love is powerful and it can make us do some things that we may not normally do; throw in a manipulative partner and you’re bound to fall faster. Hjörleifsdóttir has created a real and raw character in Lilja, one who readers will likely be able to relate to on some level.

Hjörleifsdóttir has written and published a lot of poetry, so it’s no surprise that Magma was breathtakingly poetic in its prose. While Magma doesn’t follow the rules of a traditional novel, its short chapters are powerful, and the messages that Hjörleifsdottir is trying to get across to the reader are clear. The themes throughout Magma include abusive relationships, manipulative partners, forgetting our boundaries, the failings of the psychiatric system, and our primitive desire to be loved. While the style may not be for everyone, Magma is brilliantly written and those who love literary fiction and poetic prose will find this to be a quick and powerful read.

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

Do You Need a Literary Agent?

By Evan J

Photo by Evan J

New authors often ask me, “How do I acquire a literary agent?” It strikes me as strange that the question is not phrased, “Do I need a literary agent?” Why is it assumed that a literary agent is a necessary step on the road to publication? My guess is that it is due to the frequent depictions of literary agents in popular film and television. Regardless, here’s a few responses for these new authors.

The short answer:

You don’t acquire a literary agent. If your work is good enough, and you publish a great book or two, at that point a literary agent will find you. 

The long answer:

You don’t need a literary agent. But if you want one, then, by all means, try to get one. Literary agents can be incredibly helpful.

Literary agents are essentially assistants. They promote the work of their authors. They offer career development advice. They keep a keen eye on publishing trends and advise their authors on this information accordingly. And they can offer editorial feedback on an author’s work.

But literary agents should not be something that any Canadian author, new or established, should worry about acquiring.

The literary industry is financially malnourished, and with such little money to go around, there exist very few literary agents—far fewer than there are good authors. So even if you want a literary agent, and your work is stellar, it will still be difficult to get one.

Furthermore, many successful authors never acquire a literary agent. Instead, they’ve found a publisher and editor that work well with them, and they’ve spent their career utilizing these relationships for their literary needs instead of leaning on the expertise of a literary agent.

Additionally, many authors just don’t want a literary agent. Agents earn a living through a percentage of their authors’ sales, and many authors would rather not give anyone a cut.

How do I get a literary agent?

Literary agents need to make money too. Therefore, most literary agents aren’t acquiring authors until they are a few steps into their careers. For literary agents, it’s not worth investing in an author unless there’s proof that the author’s work is respected, that their books have a sizeable and growing audience, and that the author is ambitious.

If you are already a few steps into your career and you'd like a literary agent, but literary agents are still not flocking your way, then look for literary agents that accept submissions.

Similar to a publisher, literary agents often accept manuscript submissions. Unfortunately, literary agents also receive tons of submissions, almost always require complete manuscripts, and have little time to judge a manuscript's quality. So make sure that the manuscript is perfect before you send it out.

Can you just hire a literary agent?

You can, but it’s unusual. There are not many for-hire literary agents out there, and if you do find one, they’ll likely come with a subpar reputation. It would also be unlikely for a publisher to give these agents the time of day.

What if I’m a poet?

Unless you also write prose, literary agents can't take you on. There’s such little money in poetry that it’s just not worth a literary agent’s time.

Note: The opinions shared in this article belong to the author and do not necessarily reflect those of Cloud Lake Literary. As always, do your research and do what’s best for your writing.

Book Review: The Girl of Hawthorn and Glass by Adan Jerreat-Poole

By Meghan Mazzaferro

Content warnings: violence, gore, homophobia (referenced), body horror, abusive parent/child relationships, drowning/suffocating, murder 

Eli is a made-thing, built by witches to be their eyes and ears in the human world. She has embraced her destiny as the Coven’s tool, one destined to hunt and kill ghosts that prey on humans and witches alike. When one of her targets turns out to be human, and the witch world begins to pull away from the human one, Eli is forced to ally herself with a group of humans desperate to steal magic from the witches. As Eli learns about her human companions, she begins to realize that there is more to life than being a tool and that being made doesn’t make her any less alive. 

The Girl of Hawthorn and Glass, by Canadian author Adan Jerreat-Poole, was a challenging book to read, and it’s not easy to review either. The book establishes a dichotomy early on between the witch and human worlds, with the human world based on linearity, the laws of cause and effect, and rationality. In contrast, the witch-world is based on emotion, sensation, and desire. This book may follow the plot I’ve provided, but it uses the witch-world laws of emotion and sensation rather than human-world cause and effect, and much of the book’s description is based around complicated and sometimes vague metaphors. They evoke powerful emotions, and I spent every page of this book feeling, but the story itself suffers a bit since we (in the human world) typically need a bit more cause and effect logic than this book provides. 

However, I cannot praise this book enough for its mastery of metaphor and evocative language, and the representation in this book is phenomenal. The book explores diverse races, gender, and sexual identities, which acts as driving motivations for each of the book’s characters. I feel like that was handled incredibly well and was one of the best-developed aspects of the story. I also really enjoyed the writing in this book; the best way I can describe it is as having Mirrormask energy—if anyone remembers that Neil Gaiman movie. 

Would I recommend this book? I’m not sure. If you’re reading the book’s plot summary and looking for a YA story about a teenage assassin rebelling against a cult of witches with her magical human friends, I would say no, maybe don’t give this book a read. However, if you’re looking for a case study on metaphors and evocative writing, or if you’re interested in a unique and experimental text that deals with identity, individuality, and the driving motivation of all living things to survive and find their place in the world even if they have to carve that place for themselves, I would say definitely consider this book! I, as an aspiring writer, plan to revisit this book and it’s sequel and break down exactly how it manages to make me feel so much while explaining so little. 

Be prepared to take your time, to not have all your questions answered, and I think you’ll really enjoy it. 

Book Review: Dear Child by Romy Hausmann

By Rebekah Dolmat

Content warning: abduction, physical and psychological abuse, rape, sexual assault, violence 

Originally written in German and later translated into English, Romy Hausmann’s debut novel, Dear Child, is a dark and disturbing but captivating psychological thriller.  

When a woman who goes by the name of Lena is brought to the hospital following a hit and run, she tells the police that she has been held captive by a man in a cabin in the woods for the past several months. As Lena divulges her story to the authorities, the reader quickly realizes that not everything is as it seems and is left wondering if Lena really is who she says she is. As the story progresses, it becomes clear that Lena is keeping secrets—both about herself and about her time spent in the cabin.

Dear Child is told seamlessly, integrating snapshots from the past and present, through three alternating perspectives: the abducted woman known as Lena; Hannah, Lena’s daughter who is born in captivity; and Lena’s father, Matthias, who has been searching for his daughter for the past thirteen years, or “4,993 days.” Hausman excels at constructing each character and in giving each of them their own distinct voice.  The most fascinating voice, however, is that of Hannah—being a captive’s daughter means that her worldview and sense of understanding is extremely limited. You can see it through her choice of words and in how she tries to describe all that is happening around her—it is absolutely heartbreaking. Lena’s and Matthias’ voices are just as tragic, but in different ways: an abducted woman whose experiences will scar her for life and a grieving father who may never see his daughter again. To put it simply, the reader can clearly feel each character’s pain and suffering and will grieve alongside them as they each tell their own stories.

Even though Dear Child is a translated novel, the translation does hinder the story in any way. Hausmann has successfully written a gripping, thrilling, and heartbreaking page-turner, with each chapter revealing just a little bit more of the puzzle. Dear Child is a book filled with numerous twists and turns that the reader will not see coming and has an ending that is so unexpected and worth every second spent reading. If you’re looking for your next read to be impossible to put down then this is the book for you!

Thank you to Flatiron Books and NetGalley for the gifted electronic ARC in exchange for an honest review.

Book Review: I Hope We Choose Love by Kai Cheng Thom

By Anusha Runganaikaloo

Content Warning: violence, racism, transphobia, suicide

I Hope We Choose Love: A Trans Girl’s Notes From the End of the World is a collection of personal essays and poems by writer, performer, and community healer Kai Cheng Thom. Interestingly, it was written in the spring of 2019 but is so timely and visionary that it could have been written in the post-pandemic era that we are entering. This book offers the perspective of a trans woman of colour on subjects that few have dared to tackle in such a candid way. From the alarming suicide rate in trans communities to the true meaning of transformative justice, the author leaves no stone unturned in her quest for authenticity.

The book is divided into three parts: “Let Us Live,” “Let Us Love,” and “Let Us Believe,” each consisting of about five essays and poems. The first deals mainly with profound crises that plague social justice communities, such as call-out culture, intimate partner abuse, public shaming, and suicide enabling. The author emphasizes that the very community proposing to provide a safe space for its members knows a lot about trauma but so little about how to heal it. In fact, much of the trauma endured by queer, racialized, or, more generally speaking, marginalized people originates from within the community itself. An example of this is the “performance of virtue,” which can be described as the never-ending struggle to demonstrate one’s adherence to the latest politically correct, albeit simplistic, terminology. Unfortunately, this “activist theatre” hides an inability to conduct meaningful dialogue that would take each person’s complex situation into consideration.

“Let Us Love” handles difficult issues like rape culture and collective responsibility for violence. Among other things, the author observes that, particularly in Montreal’s queer punk scene, in which she was immersed for several years, safety and accountability are core principles. Violence in any form is condemned, at least in theory, and perpetrators are denounced and publicly called out on social media. However, all is not black and white. The truth is, perpetrators are often survivors who reproduce the abuse they endured, and the cancel culture they are subjected in no way heals them, their victims, or the community. What can be done, then, to build a safe community, free of bodily harm and intimate violence, especially against trans women of colour, who are among the most likely to be assaulted? The author advocates for a transformative justice movement, where both survivors and perpetrators would be seen as community members worthy of love and healing. Where the focus would be on prevention of harm rather than on punishment.

Part three, “Let Us Believe,” reads almost like a memoir that provides deep insight into the author’s personal experience as a racialized trans woman who emerges, breaks under social pressure, rises, transforms, and gives birth to herself. The reader by turns laughs and cries with her as she shares memories of being an idealistic new adult who gradually sees the members of her chosen family leave her behind as they build nuclear families based on the heteronormative stereotype and raise children. Her reflection about the significance of motherhood for a trans woman is particularly poignant and relatable.

This book explores broad topics that encompass society and entreats each of us to love in an enlightened, accountable way. The author takes us on a rollercoaster ride with her alternate use of incisive prose and luminous poetry. We are left at once shaken and full of hope.

Book Review: City of Water by Andrea Curtis

By Ashliegh Gehl

The water cycle is a beautiful event happening all around us. We feel the precipitation on our skin when walking in the rain or in the thick of an icy winter, catching snowflakes on our tongues. It’s a vital recycling system providing water for all living organisms, and the act of transference is largely invisible. Even when admiring beautiful, fluffy clouds, we romanticize them instead of dwelling on the mechanics.  

Andrea Curtis’s City of Water, a 40-page nonfiction picture book published by Groundwood Books (May 2021), opens with a stunning illustration of the water cycle by illustrator Katy Dockrill. It sets a warm, interconnected tone for the book which both child and adult readers will love. Those familiar with Curtis’s work, such as A Forest in the City, will feel right at home among these pages as they are immersed in the fine needlework of Curtis’s storytelling. 

Straight from the top, Curtis and Dockrill point to an interesting juxtaposition: the movement of water above ground and the system of pipes below. To most, what’s underground is invisible infrastructure. It’s out of sight and out of mind because we merely walk on top of it, unaware of the strategic framework that brings water to, in some cities, millions of people. Throughout the book, Curtis and Dockrill make the invisible visible. If seeing is believing, then Curtis and Dockrill are reinforcing a critical reminder: not everything is as it seems. 

Throughout City of Water, Curtis and Dockrill demonstrate how there is more to water than the cool, clean stream flowing out of our kitchen faucets. In each spread, Curtis narrows the focus and further isolates the movement of water, answering all the questions one may have about how it gets from rain clouds to rivers and eventually to our homes.

Written for audiences aged eight to twelve years old, City of Water ignites a much-needed conversation about a delicate and finite resource that sustains life on earth—a resource humans wouldn’t be able to live without. It’s a sombre thought, but as Curtis so cleverly writes, “The history of cities begins with water—most urban centers grew up near rivers, lakes, or oceans. But as cities expanded, it became necessary to supply residents with drinking water and sanitation systems to get rid of waste.” 

Curtis’s sharp, to-the-point style swiftly takes the reader through the history of water and how, for many around the world, access to it is a constant challenge. A further challenge is that water that is accessible may not be suited for drinking due to pollutants and disease. 

What’s endearing about City of Water is its constant message of hope–and that it’s not too late to make change. Dockrill smartly uses raindrops with illustrations of people and animals within them. Imagine a future where children grow up to see themselves in every droplet of rain and fully understand that their behaviours and actions have an immediate impact on the water cycle. The thread of interconnectedness throughout City of Water is so beautifully fluid that it inspires active participation in making our world a better place.

Book Review: Big Reader; Essays by Susan Olding

By Kim McCullough

Big Reader, Susan Olding’s second collection of essays, winds its way through a writer’s lifetime of books and reading. Olding’s essays examine the way books and stories can bring clarity and depth to our lived experiences and how they allow the smallest details of life to resonate. 

Although this book threads through Olding’s own life as a reader, she invites and draws us along on her journey with engaging, poetic, and imaginative prose. Each essay comes with its own set of stakes addressing challenges that range from failed relationships to step-parenting to the advancing age of her parents. The topics are varied, but the importance of the written word is foundational to the pieces in the book. 

Before each individual essay are memory-rich vignettes that create a compelling sub-narrative. The second-person point of view of these sections echoes with the familiar sense of distance that often envelops remembrances of significant past events.

Olding’s skill as an essayist is not limited to her excellent storytelling. She is a master at creating structure; some essays are braided or presented as a collage, while others are more traditional but no less beautiful. No matter the form, strong imagery, and precise language elevate each piece. 

An example of Olding’s ability to match structure with story shines in her braided essay about her father’s death. She entwines various encounters with blood—blood type, the blood she shares with her father, literal blood—in a way that brings the same strength a braid can bring to individual strands of hair. Writing about this fraught relationship with her father is elevated by the relief of a separate thematic thread. It allows the reader space to step back, focus on another element, and let the deeper, more difficult parts of the story sink in.

Throughout the book, Olding guides the reader’s experience of the story—she speeds up or slows down the telling in her collaged essays—long reflections on scenes from Anna Karenina, or descriptive segments on satirist William Hogarth’s images in A Rake’s Progress, are interspersed with punchy, personal sections that keep the reader engaged.

Each piece in this book of essays has its own beauty and melancholy, its own discoveries and epiphanies. What ultimately ties this collection together is not only Olding’s experience as a “Big Reader,” but the way every essay addresses her clear and constant love for her family and the world around her.

Book Review: Everybody Else is Perfect by Gabrielle Korn

By Christine McFaul

Content Warning: Body shaming, eating disorder, homophobia, misogyny, racism, sexism, trauma

Everybody Else is Perfect is a sharp and intimate debut essay collection by Gabrielle Korn. 

Korn is currently the editorial and publishing lead of Most, Netflix’s home for 2SLGBTQIA+ storytelling on social media. Under her guidance as the former editor-in-chief of Nylon Media, Nylon became an international lifestyle publication focusing on emerging culture. To date, she remains one of the youngest and one of the only openly queer people to have worked in the upper echelons of a media masthead. 

“Like most millennials and Gen Zers, I was taught growing up that commercial beauty standards aren’t realistic…We know beauty is a myth but we still subscribe to it.”

Over a decade spent working in the beauty industry, Korn found herself constantly in conversation with women who, like her, alternated between two extremes: “Thinking other women are perfect just as they are, and quietly loathing themselves.” Korn penned these eleven essays to dig deeper into this widespread contradiction. The result is both an incisive insider’s look at women’s digital media and poignant rumination on coming-of-age in the early aughts, self-admittedly from a perspective that enjoys the privileges of being white and comfortably middle class.

The narrative follows Korn through her twenties as she navigates life, love, and career in New York City. Hot topics, jarring statistics, and personal experiences are woven together in clever and accessible ways. Some of my favourite chapters include: 

•    “Staying Out” -  A rumination on identity and the isolation of being the only out lesbian on her editorial staff.

•   “Low-Rise” -  A comparison of the ebb and flow of denim fashion to the treatment of women by and within the beauty media machine. A highly relatable essay for millennial readers, as who among us doesn’t remember the infamous “whale tale” or wide-legged woes of the early 2000s?!

•   “Happy Weight” - An open and pragmatic account of living with an eating disorder.

•   “The Cult of Empowerment” - A scathing indictment of feminist language being co-opted for profit.

One of the most revealing aspects of this collection occurs when Korn peels back the curtain to show the reader who women’s media leaves out vs who it exalts and why.

“Women like me aren’t supposed to talk about things like this, about the ways that all-female spaces aren’t automatically the feminist utopia’s we want them to be.”

Korn exposes the nuance and complications that exist and suggests several tangible ways that the industry, along with consumers of that industry, might begin to enact change. 

Reminiscent of her career’s work, Everybody Else is Perfect, straddles the line between cultural criticism and personal narrative. It is by turns humorous, exhausting, earnest, angry, beautiful—always honest and open. I recommend this book for anyone who grew up in the heydays of Nylon or who likes to keep up to speed on current and emerging issues and cultural trends.

Thank you, Simon and Schuster Canada, for the complimentary copy in exchange for an honest review!

Book Review: If I Never Met You by Mhairi McFarlane

By Meghan Mazzaferro

Content warnings: emotional manipulation, depression, sexual harassment of a child, abuse. 

After eighteen years with her high school sweetheart, Laurie’s partner suddenly ends things. Forced to work together at the same law firm is tough enough, but when Laurie finds out her ex-partner is expecting a baby with another woman only months after their breakup, she decides enough is enough when an opportunity falls into her lap in the form of the office playboy, Jamie, desperate to improve his reputation. The result: a fake dating scheme on social media that will allow both Laurie and Jamie to get what they want. But with Laurie working to rebuild herself and Jamie contradicting her every expectation, the lines between what’s real and what’s for show begin to blur. 

When I heard the premise for this book, I expected a funny and lighthearted rom-com, but that is not what this book is. Mhairi McFarlane’s If I Never Met You is a deep exploration of the grief that comes with lost relationships, the roles other people play in our lives, and how we can rebuild and become stronger when we learn to trust ourselves, rather than shaping ourselves around the needs of others. At first, I struggled to reconcile this story with my expectations; the first section of this book deals heavily with Laurie’s grief and struggle after the break-up, which is handled in a very realistic and tragic way that I was unprepared for. Likewise, the romance and fake-dating subplot were far less dramatic than what I was expecting—in the best way. The book engages with serious topics like sexism, microaggressions, emotional abuse, and more. This book was not a rom-com. It was something much deeper, exploring the ways adults can still grow into ourselves and become the people we are meant to be with the right support and self-respect while providing commentary on all the ways the world works to stop us from achieving that growth. It achieves all of this while still being funny! 

I also struggled with the writing style, which is very colloquially British, but once I got used to the language choice, I found the style really immersive and enjoyable. About fifty pages into the story, I became obsessed and couldn’t put it down; Laurie was a strong and sympathetic character who I easily rooted for and Jamie was likeable from the beginning and grew more and more charming with each interaction. Laurie’s ex and the book’s other side characters were well-written, and I either loved or hated them as Laurie did. The story subverted my expectations in a lot of ways, setting up plot points that seemed like they would fit into rom-com tropes and then resolving them in ways I didn’t predict but which fit the story well. The end felt a little rushed to me, but I still felt the relationships in this text were well-developed, and I left the story feeling satisfied and like I had learned something about myself.

This book was a quick and immersive read that made me face a lot of emotions, both positive and negative. It was a cathartic experience, getting to go through Laurie’s journey of grief, denial, acceptance, and finally, peace alongside her. If you’re a fan of romance books, romantic comedies, and even contemporary books with romantic undertones, this is a book you should definitely read.

Book Review: Canada: Above & Beyond by George Fischer and Atlantic Seafood by Chef Michael Howell

By Kim McCullough

At-home travel is all the (mandatory) rage these pandemic days. One way I’ve found to visit other cities and countries is through books. The places I’ve discovered in novels and creative nonfiction have not quite eased the restlessness that health restrictions have brought, so I was excited to see these two very different books in my review queue.

Each book took me on a different journey-one visual, one culinary-but both provided a welcome escape from inside the increasingly claustrophobic walls of my western Canadian home. 

The first is Canada Above & Beyond, a beautiful and expansive book of aerial photography by George Fischer. Fischer captures the majestic beauty of Canada’s varied regions with a sharp-eyed, rare vision. The photos in this stunning book both ignite the desire to travel and sate it. Unique perspectives in these photographs capture the enormous beauty of Canada’s landscape and a haunting sense of inconsequentiality in the face of massive mountains, towering buildings, and endless waterways. Photos of fields and tundra and forests are a beautiful reminder of how nature triumphant and breathtaking nature can be; it is a clarion call to visit these places as soon as we are able to once again travel at will.

The second book that took me away from crushing boredom was Atlantic Seafood: Recipes from Chef Michael Howell. Before the pandemic, reading recipe books was purely imaginary escapism for me, but over the past year, I found myself actually attempting recipes as a diversion. This book of fish and seafood recipes, written by a Nova Scotian chef who focuses on local sourcing and sustainable fishing, transported me back to a past vacation in Nova Scotia, where fresh fish and seafood are plentiful. 

Once through the opening section on Chef Howell’s history and credentials, he shares what he’s learned about ethical eating. Only then does he move onto the necessities for a rookie cook like me: the basics of cooking seafood and basic terminology. As a result, before I even cook a thing, I’m more knowledgeable and confident in my ability to cook fish. 

Though the recipes seem daunting at first, most ingredients are easily sourced, and the directions are clear and concise. The biggest challenge is finding quality seafood in landlocked provinces. Howell often adds notes on techniques or tips to help guide even the most novice of chefs through the process.

By the time you finish the sections on sustainability and sauces, you’ll have enough fish-preparation prowess to impress your future guests. The recipes themselves will elevate your meal to a whole new level. When guests are once again allowed in for dinner, any recipe in this book would make a delicious, celebratory choice.

These books will resonate with readers and cooks long after pandemic restrictions ease, but in the meantime, they provide an enjoyable, wishful foray into the world beyond our own front doors. 

Thank you, Nimbus Publishing, for the complimentary copies in exchange for honest reviews!