Book Review: Ripped Pages, by M. Hollis

[Full disclosure: I received a free copy of this book for review.]

Today, September 22, is release day for M. Hollis' novella Ripped Pages!

[Image description: the cover of M. Hollis' novella Ripped Pages: A Rapunzel Retelling. It features black and white cursive text over a background of blonde hair.]

Ripped Pages is an F/F retelling of Rapunzel. After her mother's death, Princess Valentina's father locks her away in a tower, where she spends several years alone save the servants who bring her food. Scared of the wilderness surrounding her tower, Princess Valentina never quite musters the courage to try and escape, until another girl happens to pass by on a horse.

From there, it's adventure, sweet romance, and, all-in-all, an extremely satisfying retelling of one of my favorite faerie tales.

I devoured Ripped Pages in one sitting, because it was just so refreshing to see a story about sapphic teenagers that wasn't tragic, or fetishized, or infantilizing. These characters got to be cute and sweet and get to know themselves in a faerie tale setting, which is representation that so many people get denied.

The main character is a lesbian, and her love interest is multispec (I'm not sure if she's bi, pan, or ply--explicit labels aren't used). There is a gay couple as well, and casual mention of aspec people and nonbinary people. From a representation standpoint, it was lovely.

Something I also greatly appreciated was that the author included a page listing trigger warnings. That's a practice I've been advocating for for a while now, and it was great to see.

But besides the representation and trigger consideration, what I really loved about Ripped Pages was that it felt so genuine. I remember being a teenager wondering if my experiences were normal, and wanting to go out into the world and experience life in the wider world. I remember being scared to enter that wider world. Heck, I relate to that even as an adult. I remember how validating and empowering it was to finally meet other people like me, who really cared about who I was and what I wanted. This story really captured those feelings, and it is something I sincerely wish I had when I was younger.

Perhaps the highest praise I can offer is that I finished reading Ripped Pages and wanted to hug my e-reader. It made me feel warm fuzzies, and reminded me of just how good it is to see characters you identify with succeeding and coming into their own.

I highly recommend this book to anyone who enjoys faerie tales, and especially to anyone who needs to see a young lesbian come into her own, take control of her life, and find the love and support she deserves. Many thanks to the author for allowing me to read and review this book!

Until next time,
Jenn.

Book Review: Knit One, Girl Two, by Shira Glassman

Knit One, Girl Two was a quick, utterly delightful read. It stars Clara Ziegler, a yarn dyer who finds herself facing a creative block. She finds inspiration in the paintings of Danielle Solomon. The two meet up, and come to inspire each other in their respective art forms. As they begin to spend more time together, they get closer. And then they go on possibly the most adorable date ever.

You’ve got geeky artists, queer solidarity, an adorable cat, and women bonding over fanfiction. Despite being a quick read, there was a lot of great stuff packed in. My favorite scene was probably the one with the knitting group meetup, because we got introduced to a lot of great characters. Several of them reminded me of people in my own community. It’s always wonderful to see queer people supporting each other, having fun, and just...existing. They don’t have to be a plot point to be there.

I read Knit One, Girl Two over the course of a hot, lazy afternoon, and it was a perfect way to pass the time. It was fluffy, and sweet, and geeky, and tons of fun. I can’t recommend it highly enough to anyone who wants a cozy read.

Until next time,
Jenn.

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Book Review: Masquerade, by Bran Lindy Ayres

Masquerade follows a genderfluid spy, variably known as Genevieve Merlot or Lafayette Goddard depending on their gender, as they uncover a plot to harm their friend and sovereign, the Queen of Orandon. It is a quick, fast-paced prequel to Bran Lindy Ayres’ novel The Jeweled Dagger, telling the story of what got our protagonist into the mess that launches the plot of the novel. It’s a treat for those, like me, who loved The Jeweled Dagger, but it could easily be read as a standalone.

Masquerade has been on my to-be-read list for a while now. I loved The Jeweled Dagger, and I was excited to see more of Genevieve/Lafayette. They’re a fun character to follow, and it was nice to get a bit more context for what they go through at the beginning of the novel.

I’ve been a sucker for court intrigue and political fantasy for a long time, but the cruddy thing about that is that most political fantasy is straight, cis, allo, white, and, after a while, very same-y. Masquerade is exactly what I wanted--all of the intrigue, but with a realistically diverse cast. It’s not another story about rich privileged white men squabbling. And, gods, is that refreshing.

The story itself had just enough worldbuilding to satisfy, without being overwhelming. This world is well-rounded and rich, but the author doesn’t dump a million new concepts and ideas in your lap with no guidebook. As much as I love political fantasy, that’s generally my biggest complaint: too much all at once, with no time to process the world you’re in before throwing plot point after plot point at you. Despite the fast pace of the story, the worldbuilding was woven in naturally, which gave it a real, lived-in feel. I could picture everything pretty easily, and thus could sit back and enjoy the actual meat of the plot.

The plot was pretty straightforward: loyal spy uncovers an enemy plot, and gets stranded away from their home country and the queen they’re desperate to protect. But it was very well-done, and made for a great curl-up-on-the-couch read. I would recommend it highly to anyone who loves spies and intrigue, and badass genderfluid main characters.

Be advised that Masquerade carries trigger warnings for racism and transphobia perpetuated by antagonists, as well as violence.

Until next time,
Jenn.

(Reminder: If you enjoy my content, consider backing me on Patreon or buying me a coffee via Ko-Fi. Thanks!)

Book Review: Every Heart a Doorway, by Seanan McGuire

I read this book at four in the morning while suffering a bout of insomnia. And, honestly, that felt like an appropriate time to read it, because this book is...weird. Not bad-weird. Just...weird. It had an almost dreamlike, surreal quality to it.

I liked it, though.

Be advised that this book does carry trigger warnings for violence, gore, mentions of sexual activity, and transphobia. The transphobia is called out and shown as a bad thing, but it is present.

The story follows the residents of Eleanor West’s Home for Wayward Children, which is partially a boarding school but mostly a sanctuary for teenagers who have traveled to other worlds and long to go back. The principal character is Nancy, who visited a land of the dead.

It’s not long after Nancy arrives at the Home that things start going wrong. Along with her fellow students, Nancy tries to unravel what’s going on, before more people are hurt or the school is forced to close.

It was an entertaining take on what happens to characters after they come back from their fantasy adventures. A lot of portal fantasy that I've read has an air of “happily ever after” once the protagonist comes home, and it’s always hard not to wonder how they cope with our world after that. In Every Heart a Doorway, the answer is...well, not that great. They struggle. They long to return to their individual fantasy worlds, and have to learn how to deal with the knowledge that it might never happen.

That was definitely compelling. I liked that a lot.

Every Heart a Doorway came highly recommended to me as an aspec trans person. The main character is asexual, and one of the major supporting characters is a trans man. That was great to see and I very much liked it. I thought it was done pretty well. The only real quibbles I had were that immediately after coming out to her roommate, the asexual main character is asked about masturbation, and the trans man character is referred to by another character as being “born a girl.” That said, both of the characters saying these things are portrayed as rude and their responses as inappropriate, so wasn’t too huge of an issue for me personally. Your mileage may vary.

Now for what I didn’t like.

[Note: the rest of this review contains spoilers.]

This story hinges on violence against young girls, including a young girl of color. Multiple characters die in graphic ways, and though the deaths are not shown on-page, the fatal wounds are described in relative detail. We don’t get to spend a lot of time with the characters before they’re killed, and we don’t get a great grasp on their stories until after the fact. I’m not inherently opposed to character death, but I have developed great distaste for violence against women and girls, especially women and girls of color, being used for entertainment. There’s a lot of it, and it gets hard to stomach. Especially in a work that doesn’t have a lot of time to add deep characterization, it’s jarring and upsetting to see girls get offed so violently and suddenly.

Overall, I really adored the premise and the worldbuilding, but I feel like there are other, much more engrossing stories that could have been set in this world than “violent murder spree targeting young girls.” That said, I’m definitely interested in reading the next installments in the series, because the premise and worldbuilding were enthralling.

In short, this is one I would recommend to my fellow portal fantasy fans, but it is one I would recommend with caution.

Until next time,
Jenn.

(Reminder: If you enjoy my content, consider backing me on Patreon or buying me a coffee via Ko-Fi. Thanks!)

Book Review: Chameleon Moon, by RoAnna Sylver

I bought Chameleon Moon by RoAnna Sylver within five minutes of it being recommended to me, because the premise was something I knew I needed in my life: queer superheroes. We all need queer superheroes in our lives, really, even if they only exist in the 

pages of books. We deserve to know that there’s hope, and that we’re not alone.

And that’s exactly what Chameleon Moon told me: there’s hope, and I’m not alone. From the first pages, I got to see people like myself: nonbinary people, asexual people, transgender people, polyamorous people, neurodivergent people, disabled people. People like me, who the mainstream too often pretends don’t even exist, got to be the stars of an action-packed, high-intensity narrative. And, gods, was that good. That was so good.

Chameleon Moon is set in Parole: a gutted, run-down city that sits above a fire that’s been burning for years. It’s perpetually on the verge of crumbling into the flames, and water is so precious it’s used as currency. Those left in Parole have strange abilities, given by a drug that didn’t work as planned when introduced to the populace. They’re under forced quarantine by a military police force, and everyone is in a perpetual state of waiting for the city to completely collapse.

The narrative follows Regan, the asexual lizard king of my heart, as he tries to recover his memory. He falls in with Evelyn Calliope, a trans woman whose voice dominates the stage at the Emerald Bar, and whose grace under pressure is, honestly, utter goals. Because she’s one of the Helpers that Mr. Rogers told us to look for in times of trouble, Evelyn takes Regan under her wing. She takes him home, where the rest of her family is introduced: her wives Rose and Danae, their son Jack, and the family robot-dog, Toto-Dandy.

From there, the story is a rollercoaster, but in the absolute best way.

Chameleon Moon was fast-paced and brutal. People get hurt, and struggle, and suffer. They get put through the wringer, and they earn every last second of downtime they get. There is no “dead queer” trope to be found, blessedly, but be advised that there is violence and serious injury. The ending is what I’d call a bittersweet victory--mysteries get solved, goals get met, and conflicts get resolved, but there are definitely still plotlines to be resolved. My copy came with a bonus short story set not too long after the book, which was a wonderful treat, but I’ll still be buying book two as soon as I can.

Overall, I adored Chameleon Moon. The story was a thrilling ride, but what really sold it for me was the characters. They were so real, and refreshingly relatable. They have panic attacks, they deal with PTSD, they dissociate, they validate each other's’ struggles and needs. As a neurodivergent person living in a world where triggers are all-too-often mocked, I needed Chameleon Moon. I needed queer, neurodivergent, disabled characters whose struggles aren’t just relatable, but validated and worked through and shown as normal.

The story was good, yes, but the characters made me feel good about myself. They made me feel loved. They made me feel like I, too, can get through the day even when I want to shut down and give up.

Read this book. If you ever need a reminder that you matter, please, read this book.

Until next time,
Jenn.

(Reminder: If you enjoy my content, consider backing me on Patreon or buying me a coffee via Ko-Fi. Thanks!)