This was my 161st read of the year… and I think it just became my favorite. It’s not a “fun” read—in fact, much of it reminds me of the current state of the world, the dangerous direction we’re heading in, and the devastatingly sad effects of hate, but the concept of songlight, humanity’s resilience, and the potential for peace is so beautiful.
I picked up The Only Good Indians because I’d read The Buffalo Hunter Hunter earlier this year and was drawn in by Jones’ entirely unique storytelling. And while that continues to be the case here, I found this book oddly… slow?
Okay, I just lived through the 16th-century turmoil that was the question of the English succession during and after Elizabeth I’s reign, and let me tell you—I don’t know how this woman even lived or enjoyed daily life with all of the anxiety she constantly had over this???
This one has all the right ingredients, especially for this time of year! A dark, feminist Bluebeard retelling with witchy undertones and a setting and vibes straight out of Rebecca or Jane Eyre??? Yes, please!
While this book could use a bit more developmental editing and a good copy edit, I kind of… loved it? Ha. It was easy to read and get hooked on, I enjoyed Stark’s writing style and the world-building, and I especially liked the banter and relationship between the main characters.
Much like Good Stab had to tell his story to Pastor Beaucarne in a piecewise fashion, I felt like I had to read this book in a similar manner to fully absorb it.
Every so often I come across a WWII novel that offers a perspective I haven’t read before, and The Night Sparrow was one of those books. Told through the eyes of a female Soviet Jewish sniper, it dives into a part of history that is often overlooked, giving space to stories that deserve to be remembered.
Isabel Ibañez delivers something truly special with Graceless Heart—a richly imagined historical fantasy that balances political tension, slow-burn romance, and quiet emotional devastation, all without ever feeling like it’s trying too hard. I genuinely could not put it down.
Birth of a Dynasty by Chinaza Bado is a fantastic start to an epic fantasy series set in a remarkable African-inspired world. The prologue was excellent, and I was instantly hooked (in fact, I ended up reading the whole book in less than 24 hours).
Ray Bradbury’s The Martian Chronicles is often shelved as science fiction, but it reads more like a mirror held up to humanity—warped, poetic, and devastatingly clear. Published in 1950, it masquerades as a speculative account of Earth colonizing Mars. But it isn’t really about Mars. It’s about us. About mankind. Our failings. Our nostalgia. Our brilliance. Our destructiveness. What we export when we go somewhere new. And what we can’t seem to leave behind.
I wanted to like this more than I did. Devil’s Thirst by Jill Ramsower has the bones of a great dark romance—Italian/Irish mafia, alpha anti-hero, the whole “good girl meets dangerous man” thing. But it didn’t quite land for me.
The Secret Market of the Dead by Giovanni De Feo is just as much about being a woman in a “man’s” world (if not more) as it is delightfully strange.
