Khanh the Killjoy

This is a cheap designer knockoff of the X-Men series, with none of the complexity, none of the compelling social issues, and a completely preposterous faux-dystopian world. Instead of the jaw-dropping skills of the X-Men, we have a completely lackluster cast of so-called mutants with the combined powers of lulling me the fuck to sleep. There is rampant girl-on-girl hate and passive-aggressive criticism on provovative dress. There is a special, special girl.

“You’re so much more extraordinary than you give yourself credit for. And I’m not just talking about your mind. Your body too.”

There is thinly veiled slut-shaming, even to one's supposedly beloved little sister.

Shaming your 13-year old baby sister for the way she dresses? For her beauty? For the fact that she attracts men? How fucking vile can you get?

Micah gives her a smile and Dyl returns the favor. Like a prize racehorse, she’s even showing teeth in perfect, pearly order. She’s passing with flying colors.

Beauty is not a fucking sin. It is not evil to be lovely.

Beauty. Dyl’s worth is no longer in her looks, it’s in this strand of hair. And I’ll use my own, plain, unspectacular self to help her.

It is not immoral to attract attention. Beauty should not be looked upon as a curse, a scarlet letter, a girl is not shameful a girl should not be ashamed for the fact that she attracts the attention of others. What I hate about this book is that the fact that beauty is looked down as almost impure. Ugliness, plainness is seen as a virtue within its book, at the price of demeaning the other female characters who happen to be beautiful. The main character, Zelia, constantly highlights her own ordinariness, her own plainness, her own diminutive stature, which is more boyish than Venus de Milo, as the virtuous Puritan ideal---withthe underlying, unsaid message that it is better to be righteous and homely than beautiful and innately slutty.

I’m a total embarrassment. My refusal to wear makeup, nice shoes, or tight clothes. My penchant for getting excited over CellTech News, my favorite holo channel. My endless nagging about her flashy dresses and too-shiny lipstick.

Sluttiness is, of course, defined by the way you dress. A girl and another girl cannot exist in the same space without cat fighting. Fuck that shit. Seriously, fuck that shit.

I point to myself and silently mouth the words What did I do? to Wilbert.
“My guess is, you’re female and you exist. Probably an alpha female thing, like wolves or rats—”

A beautiful girl cannot open her mouth without uttering something completely and unnecessarily sexual and provocative.Fuck slut shaming. I mean, really. You cannot judge a person by the way they look. You cannot judge a girl by the way she dresses.

I’m not shocked by the fact she’s wearing the latest fashion from Hookers-R-Us. It’s her face.

Screw anyone who thinks a girl is a bitch, is a slut, is a fucking whore because she dresses provocatively. I live in Southern California. I wear short shorts like they are going out of fashion. I wear the tiniest of miniskirts. I wear crop tops. I'm also college-educated. I'm also fucking smart. I'm also fucking well-read and you better believe that it pisses the bloody hell out of me to read snide comments coming from a book's female narrator on the appearance of a possible female friend, making everything she does sexual.

Vera is on my floor, staring at her crotch.
Well, she’s doing yoga, but in essence, that’s what’s going on.

Making everything she wears sexual. And making judgments on---my fucking god---her own BABY SISTER.

There is a baffling romance that comes out of the blue, and a bewildering attempt at a love triangle that has Wolverine, Jean Grey, and Cyclops shaking their heads, simultaneously saying "Get the hell out of my face."

There will always be people who choose to dismiss the significance of comics as an art form. There will always be those who will laugh at what they see as a juvenile form of books, they will say that comics are devoid of complexity. They are wrong. The X-Men series addresses so many issues superbly, among them, the moral, social, and ethical implications of the existence of mutants among mankind, the difficulties of growing up as a mutant. This book almost completely ignores the multiple ramifications of the existence of mutants, instead choosing to focus on the yawn-inducing adventures of a TSTL, vapid, judgmental girl.

Summary: Zelia and her younger sister, Dylia, live with their widowed father in a baffling futuristic version of the US that makes absolutely no sense. Zelia had a conditon at birth, known as Ondine's Curse. She cannot breathe subconsciously. She has to make an effort at it. Zelia has to consciously remember how to breathe. In. Out. In. Out.

There is a medical device that Zelia can wear that aids her in breathing. Zelia doesn't fucking wear it most of the time because it makes her feel uncomfortable. You know what also feels uncomfortable? The lack of oxygen to your fucking brain, you dumb twit.

In this version of the future, they have automated cars. Magpods. You can program it. It will drives for you. Zelia take her family out for a drive. She drives manually, because fuck techology, she's fucking hipster like that. She gets into a car accident. Her father dies. Her family falls apart. Zelia and her sister are now subject to the foster system.

Only it doesn't quite work that way. Instead of being assigned to a family, the sisters undergo a Testing. The social worker, Micah, assigned to her case know her and her very very illegal younger siste's bra sizes. Not fucking creepy at all. The next thing you know, Dylia is kidnapped, and the system is telling Zelia that she does not have a sister, that her sister is not registered in the system, that her sister does not exist. Zelia herself gets assigned a foster mom who's Professor X's cousin's sister's half sister twice removed, for all of her effectiveness. She takes Zelia to the Carus House, a home for foster children, where they meet a bunch of mutants who are roughly as threatening as my stuffed spider.

(His name's Webby. He's a really cute stuffed spider)

There's a boy with two heads, a watered-down version of Beast. There's a girl, a really gorgeous girl named Vera, with the body of a Victoria's Secret Model and the sexual thirst of a 14-year old boy left rampant in the Playboy mansion.



She does something with plants. Like grow them or something. So useful. SO USEFUL.

There's a really, really nice boy with 4 arms. That's pretty much all he has. There's a motherfucking douchewaffle named Cy whose only known skill is to regenerate his body so fucking fast that he can have different full body tattoos eeeeeeevery fucking day!

The tattoos. No wonder they keep changing. His body must metabolize the ink so fast that he gets a clean slate every day.

Now I ain't saying he's an asshat, but...

Cy’s not done. He spits on the floor again. “She’s damaged goods.”

Weeeeeeell. Maybe he's got different sides to his personality. Maybe he has a heightened appreciation for art.

It’s a painting of a dismembered hand, fingers stretching to extremes, but cut off at the wrist, leaning against the wall. The one next to it shows a long bone, still smeared with blood, floating in the same pale blue void the hand is in.

Oh, no, that's not creepy at all. I would never dream of imagining that someone with an obsession for excessive piercings, a love of bloody art, and an appreciation for self-mutilation might hurt me in the least. Totally innocent. The fact that Cy has paintings of gore and blood and dismemberment doesn't mean that he's not a secretly sensitive soul at heart. He's sooooooooo not a psychopath or anything.

*singsong* Guess who's the projected love interest!!!!! ^_^ Fucking please.

Zelia is determined to find out what happens to her sister. It's the most fun investigation ever because Zelia gets to go fucking clubbing in the slaughterhouse district, man! Then later on, she gets to drive a Porsche. Then later on she gets to make out with the yummy Cy, and yummy?! I mean yummy! I mean his eyes, his eyes!

It warms his slate eyes just a touch, like cold butter that softens after landing on warm toast.

One glance into those deadly attractive eyes and Zelia is toast. ^_^

Oh, Zelia has a sister who's disappeared. Right.

The Setting: The mutants do not play a credible role in the book. Their banishment from the society is not a imminent threat, it doesn't feel real. There is no danger. There is social isolation, not ostracization, because there is almost no example of ostracization in the book regarding the treatment of mutants besides hearsay.

The world building is fucking lazy and completely devoid of imagination and sense. Tell me if this makes any damn sense to you. The United States no longer exists. States have seceded. SERIOUSLY? Let's get one thing straight. It's not fucking easy to secede. Here's an imagined map of what would happen if states had been successful in seceding. The point is that it's fucking incredible, guys. Even more so is the fact that states are combined. We have Neia (Nebraska and Iowa), Okks, Ilmo, Alms. Alaska is its own country, having seceded 4 years ago.

Some States have their own dress codes. Their own DRESS CODES. Some states have mandatory uniforms for men and women.



Seriously, do you? Do you think that in a country where even a school uniform becomes a controversial issue, that somehow magically in the future, we become fucking robots who would agree to a Moral Code and the wearing of adult uniforms? Do you fucking believe that marriage will be abolished, replaced by a term called "legal fusion" when the institution of marriage has been in existence for, I don't know. Like all of humanity? Do you really think our morals, our beliefs, our willingness to lie down and take governmental control on all fucking fours is credible? Really? Do you? If you don't have a problem with the willing suspension of disbelief in order to mindlessly accept a convoluted dystopian future, this book is for you. I cannot accept this.

This futuristic US does not have blue sky. We have no sunshine. We have no skies, because it is all covered up by something called an "agriplane." Because, surely, there is no fucking farmland to be had in the futuristic Kansas and Nebraska, also known as America's Heartland, the main manufacturing and farming region in the United States, at all.

Totally believable. I don't fucking think so.

The Romance: Cy fucking hates Zelia. He belittles her. He calls her names. She faints. He kisses her. She faints into his arms (AGAIN!). They play tonsil hockey.

“Oh, you know. After you passed out, Cy knocked us out of the way to give you mouth-to-mouth. He freaking French-kissed you all the way home, in the name of saving your life. What a goddamned romantic. I had no idea he had it in him.”

Out of fucking nowhere, they fall in love.

Boyfriend is too limited a term for what Cy has become to me. Water? Oxygen? That might do.

WHAT? WHERE DID THAT COME FROM?! And that fucking love triangle. So weak it's not even funny.It shouldn't have existed. Like this book.

I rev the engine afresh, and the char thrusts ahead with a roar. The speed is therapeutic, but does nothing to erase the memory of two very different kisses.

So the United States no longer exists. Because it's so easy for a state to secede. *rolls eyes*

States are now Neia (Nebraska + Iowa). Okks. Alms. Ilmo.

Some states have mandatory uniforms for men and women.

Are you fucking serious?

"It's impossible to love something you know's made out of wire and metal."
"You talk about him like he's a computer."
"He is a computer," said Dr Condon. "That's what I'm trying to tell you."
"It's not flesh and blood," she said. "It's not normal."

Mind: blown. Preconceptions: dashed to pieces. I cannot say in all honesty that this has converted me to the genre, but my god, what a fabulous read. What a fantastic work of literature. This is going to be such a difficult review to write because my emotions are all over the place. Books rarely make me emotional. I'm not a crier. A friend promised me tears. Thus, I reached for this book. I wanted something that would make me cry.

I didn't cry. But that is not to say that this book did not make an emotional impact upon me. It did, tremendously. I was angry, I was upset, I was infuriated. I felt resentment. I felt hopelessness. I felt an immense sense of doom. I was heartbroken.

No, I didn't cry, but this book left me with an uncomfortable lump in my throat, a painful prickling of tears in my eyes, and a terribly unattractive red nose by the time I finished. And you know what? I'll gladly wear my unseemly red nose as a point of pride, because of how much I loved this book. I will gladly go through my day sniffling like a fool. This is the best book I have read in a long time, in terms of pure artistry, in terms of the raw power of emotional depth it weaves in its characters. I have rarely encountered a book that felt more real.

The writing is spare, simple, evocative, and absolutely impeccable for the tone of this book. If the writing in this book were a man, I would take him to my bedroom (and perhaps the basement afterwards), tie him down with a silk rope, and make violent love to him. The writing is flawless.

This book should be read as a character study, a love story, a tale of human nature and growth. I am not a fan of slow books, I prefer the fantastic, the excitement of livelier genre. This is a change of pace for me, and this is a risk I am so glad I took. I'm not an adventurous reader. I stay away from subjects I don't like, I stay away from things I do not care for. I love technology, I love computers, but robots, androids, mechanical beings do not interest me. I've stayed away from many a beloved series (Cinder, for example), for that reason. I don't like androids.

You know what? Screw the android factor, screw the technology. This book's strength lies beyond that. This book should not be read as science fiction, because the android man within it is far more human, far more real, far more loveable than most of the literary men I have ever known. You know that one friend you take for granted, the one friend who has always been there for you? The one who stays up at 3 AM with you, listening patiently while you are sobbing away your sorrows? The one friend who becomes such a constant in your life that you don't realize their significance until they're gone? This is an ode to that friend, an ode to the good guy, a love song to all who have been there, done that, and never appreciated for the treasure that they are.

Summary: It is America, some time in the future. There has been an event known as the Disaster. Much of the American Midwest is barren. Robots and androids is no longer the stuff of science fiction, but a fixture in everyday life. They have helped to rebuilt the cities after they have been devastated. The setting is rather vague, but the setting is unimportant, much like the backdrops in a play. The people, and one android in particular, are the stars of this book.

Caterina Novak was five years old when she first met Finn. A tall, pale young man. He looks real, but there's something not quite right about him. Something not quite human. She decides that he is a ghost. She tries to get rid of him, bringing him to a cemetary, because she has heard that ghosts will return to their resting place.

Finn doesn't disappear like a recalcitrant spirit. He stays on. He becomes her tutor. Finn becomes her friend, and remains her friend through her carefree childhood, through her bitter adolescent years. He listens to her, he is a silent ally in the face of her brilliant father's loving neglectfulness, in the face of her brilliant mother's disappointment in her unacademic daughter. He is always there for her, silently supportive through it all.

Androids do not have emotions. Androids do not feel. Androids are not people. Cat's father, Daniel Novak, becomes known among the town as "the mad scientist" for his work with androids. A preacher in town rallies against his work.

"A person? No, it's just a machine made to look like a person...So they can steal jobs from us easier. It plain ain't right. That's what my preacher says." His face dropped down. He looked Cat straight on. Her entire body shook. "I mean, your dad made it, right? A human being? Way I see it, any robot that close to a person is an abomination."

To many people, androids are wicked, evil, an abomination against God. Cat defends Finn through it all.

They are friends, they are best friends, until one day when their friendship feels like something more.

He was close to her. Cat felt light-headed, and she knew it had nothing to with her inability to understand math. She was on the precipice of something. It coiled inside her like a snake and made her fidgety and distracted.

Years pass. A string of boyfriends have come and gone. Oscar. Michael. Richard.

Life passes by, with its devastations and its joys, compended with an impending sense of claustrophobia as you feel the walls closing in.

What is love, if you can't have it, if you avoid it? What is love to one who cannot feel it? Cat and Finn's lives are separated, joined, but their fates are intertwined. Everything will come crashing down in a crescendo

Cat cried harder. She leaned her head against Finn's chest. Water lapped at their bodies. His hands were in her hair. They did not kiss; they did not speak.
Everything had unraveled.

The Characters: There is not one single character who was not flawless in this book. I don't mean flawless as in likeable, because they are certainly not all likeable. They are sometimes despicable, they are oftentimes cruel, they inspire pity, hate. They are not flawless, but I loved them all, because they all feel so perfectly human. Humans are not perfect. Humans are flawed, destructible. You do not raise a human to a pedestal, because they will inevitably fall.

There are many who will hate Cat. I understand. So do I, at times. I am resentful of her. She starts off as a spoiled little rich girl. She is an only child, left to roam the woods alone with Finn, with little supervision. She is rebellious, hatteful towards her mother, who wants a brilliant child, not one who is inclined towards artistry. Cat is the kind of girl that I hate, someone who seemingly has everything handed to her on a platter. She is beautiful, she attracts the kind of guy a lot of girls would kill to have, with not much effort other than her own looks and careless personality. Cat is the kind of girl of whom I would whisper behind her back "What is he doing with HER?" Admit it, we've all been there.

Cat is selfish, ever so selfish. She goes through life as a cloud, not really caring about anything along the way. She faces problems with the skill of an ostrich: if I stick my head in the sand for long enough, I can pretend that the problem doesn't exist. She is immature, she remains this way, until her life starts to disintegrate.

I loved it when Cat broke. I was devastated with her when her life shattered, however I was indifferent to her before, however I belittled her before.

The world was utterly still, and she was aware of the movement of the inside of her body: the expansion of her lungs and the fluttery pumps of her heart, pushing blood out into her extremities. Her heart, broken a million times over.

The thing is, Cat grows up. We see Cat through so much of her life that it feels like observing someone you know grow up. Cat matures. She learns. She realizes her selfishness. She cries for her own cruelty. She recognizes her mistakes. She accepts them.

Cat took a deep breath. She wiped her muddy tears away. "I'm sorry," she said. "I'm sorry I didn't realize."
I'm selfish, she thought, and then she thought it over and over. I'm selfish. I'm selfish.

The Romance: Love is an integral part of this novel, and it should be. The love of a mother for her child. The love of a mad scientist, who is not so much a mad scientist as much as he is a bewildered father. The love of friends. Most vitally, the love of a woman who has to grow up before she realizes she is capable of it. The love of an android who could not, who should not be able to feel such a thing as emotions.

"Finn, can you fall in love?" she asked.
Finn froze. On the record, one song faded out and another began. Laughter from the kitchen.
"Oh, Finn," said Cat. "No. No… I meant." She stopped, bit her lower lip. "Please don't think–"
"Think what? It's a reasonable question." He paused. Cat's heart pounded. Her head ached, the start of a hangover. "No, I don't believe I can. Love is far too ill-defined a concept to work within my current parameters. It's too...abstract."

Can androids fall in love? The answer is yes, yes, they can.

"Desire is simple," he said. "Desire is something even a machine can understand." There was a stillness in the air that mirrored the stillness of his body. "But when I desired you I began to love you. You were the first being I ever loved. I didn't know it, of course. I had no idea what it meant, no idea what I was feeling. Love was never something I was supposed to experience." He laughed against her skin. "Later, I was finally able to understand the complexities of love. Even if I didn't want to. At first."

Astonishingly good. The writing is a thing of beauty. I am so frustrated by Cat, but at the same time, she is so real that I love her all the same.

Finn. No words.

“What’s a man like down there?”
“Oh.” Sidheag wrinkled her nose. “Unimpressive. They have,” she gestured toward her own nether regions with one hand, “a sort of dangly sausage—lacks tailoring.”

Brilliant description, brilliant!

If ever there was an enjoyable book featuring a Mary Sue of a heroine, this is it. Despite my rating, I liked reading this book, because it was a funny, quick, fast, very light read. My main problem: that's just it. There is absolutely zero complexity in the book, it was funny, but there was absolutely nothing more to it. It is completely devoid of substance with an utterly convoluted plot. And really, was there a need to include a love triangle when the main character in the book is all of 15 years old. Was it necessary to make her so completely perfect, so utterly capable, so tremendously intelligent, so flawlessly absorbing, particularly to the male sex?

[Sophronia] had not yet received lessons in seduction, or she might have understood the appeal of sharp confidence, a topping figure, and green eyes. All Sophronia’s intellect was directed at something other than attracting male companionship. These things combined to make her particularly appealing to gentlemen.

Fifteen years old, ladies and gentlemen. Our main character is fifteen years old, with the unconscious seduction of a young Lolita. With the brilliant analytical skills of a young Holmes. With the philosophical brain of Archimedes.

I liked Sophronia, despite her blind perfection, but she could have been so much more. My enjoyment of the book is impeded partially by the lack of complexity and the absence of any sort of depth within this book's characters, be they main characters or part of the side cast.

I can't give you a summary for this book because I'm not quite sure what I just read. There will be no detailed plot/character analysis because the characters are so utterly tongue-in-cheek that it's impossible to provide a criticism of them without realizing "well, she's SUPPOSED to be so completely trite and superlatively annoying because she is meant to be a satire of an YA fiction trope." I'm sure there is a way to critically analyze literary satire. My brain's just not quite that far-reaching yet.

No summary. Why? Half an hour after reading it, I remember absolutely nothing about it, and I can't even tell you what the hell the main plot was. I don't know what the mystery is, neither do I know how the plot was resolved. I had a lot of fun reading it, it was tremendously humorous. But that's it. I don't know what I just read beyond the humor, beyond the whimsical characters and the funny little steampunk world in which our book is set.

I can't tell you what the book is about, what the big spy-related plot is, but I can tell you that Monique is a bitch. That Dimity is in love with Lord Dingleproops. That Vieve is a 10-year old girl who likes to dress as a boy. That there is a love triangle, in which the sootie Soap and the supercilious Lord Felix are both in love with our Queen of the Mary Sues (I like her, but there is absolutely no denying that she is a Mary Sue) Sophronia. I can tell you that Sophronia carries around a little dog-thing (Bumbersnoot) as a purse. Those minute details, I can tell you.

Those minute details, I remember. Just not the central plot itself. I'm dead fucking serious.

There are a lot of good things about this book. I said it was a quick read and a very amusing one, and it really was. The writing is awesome; it is funny, it is flippant, it doesn't take itself seriously at all. I laughed more than once.

Dimity was so pretty and chattery, she quite overpowered the average male. Many gentlemen were unable to cope with abundant chatter, which is why they so often married it.

It is absolutely amusing, the book is rampant with silliness. The characters are a parody of British high society, complete with utterly ludicrous names, like the previously mentioned Lord Dingleproops, Professor Shrimpdittle, or else absurdly apostrophed names, like Miss Plumleigh-Teignmott.

The steampunk setting can best be described as "twee." We have gidgets and gadgets aplenty. We have whoozits and whatzits galore. Odd little thingamabobs, a steam-powered toy puppy. An "electrosplit goopslimer port." A "Thrushbotham pip-monger swizzle sprocket." There are mechanical maids---clangermaids, mechanical footmen---or rather, footmechs. Airships and dirigibles. Steam-puffing mechanical objects. Oddgobs. It is all terrifyingly, delightfully cute.

The school setting itself was pretty awesome, and I wished there were more insights and lessons for me to learn within the incredibly interesting-sounding classes. Seriously, where were these classes when I was still in school. We have classes on "drawing room music and subversive petit fours," "Hive and pack dynamics as part of the modern aristocratic system," "rapid walking in full skirts," "tea and delusions," "portion allotment, puddings, and preemptive poisonings."

The discussions in classes were the best part of the book, for example, during a lesson in "distribution, use, and application of stealth spy rocks," the class had this amazing discussion on men's facial hair.

The discussion evolved to the interesting question of whether a gentleman could tattoo a secret message upon his chin, then grow out his beard, thus transporting said message into enemy territory with no one the wiser. Would a man want a message permanently upon his chin? That was the quandary. And could one legitimately ascribe nefarious intent to any many with a full beard as a result?
“I’ve always thought beards suspicious,” said Dimity with conviction.

Me too, Dimity. Me, too.

So today, I had my first attempt at cooking a fish that hasn't already been filleted and nicely boned and flash-frozen.

Introducing my very first trout!

Self portrait with fish!

In conclusion: it was good, but a lot of trouble picking out the tiny bones.

Not sure if want again.

January 3, 2014

Dear Khanh of 2006,

I am your older, wiser self. Many things will happen in the years that have elapsed before you become the me of today. You will fall in love. You will break hearts. You will get your heart broken (karma's a bitch). You will change jobs. You will graduate from college.

Most importantly, you will become more intelligent, you will learn the art of advanced thinking because really, all college teaches you is how to get good grades by regurgitating textbooks. When you are older, as you begin to read critically, you will learn to appreciate a good book, and you will be able to identify literary bullshit when you see it.

That's all this book is. Literary bullshit.

This book is dramatic rubbish, artistic gibberish. It is nothing more than a glorified travel brochure.

Seriously, younger Khanh, what the fuck were you thinking when you enjoyed this book? You thought it was sweet, you thought it was romantic, you thought the writing was beautiful. Really? Really?

Between 2006 and 2014, you will be able to identify purple prose when you see it. You will realize that flowery prose is not good writing. Correlation does not imply causation, and good writing does not necessarily encompass a good plot.

You will be able to recognize a deus ex fucking machina when you see it. Oh, I know that you learned about deus ex machina in AP English. You learned a lot of things in English class. You learned about symbolism, foreshadowing, all that good shit, but really, it does you no fucking good unless you are able to identify it when you see it. And clearly, you did not see the tremendous, horrifying, abominable (that's a hyperbole) overuse of deus ex fucking machina upon your first perusal of this book.

You will realize that a good epistolary book involving several different characters should have the characters be actually fucking distinct. Did you seriously think this book was realistic in any way, when you cannot distinguish between the narrative of an old man, an older man, and that of a girl as she grows from her early teens?

Did you ever for a moment think upon the complete absurdity of the letters and the storytelling, particularly when said letters and spoken stories were told in excruciating minutiae. Is that realistic in any way? In your letters, have you ever once mentioned the trivialities of your evening routine, particularly when it made absolutely no relevance whatsoever to whatever point you were trying to make?

While I waited I poked up the fire, added another log, set out two glasses, and surveyed my desk. My study also served me for a sitting room, and I made sure it was kept as orderly and comfortable as the solidity of its nineteenth-century furnishings demanded. I had completed a great deal of work that afternoon, supped off a plate brought up to me at six o’clock, and then cleared the last of my papers.

When you tell a story to your friends, have you ever once mentioned the drumming of your fingertips when you're trying to tell a story of---supposedly---the utmost importance?

I drummed my fingers on the desktop. The clock in my study seemed to be ticking unusually loudly tonight, and the urban half darkness seemed too still behind my venetian blinds.

I know you are young and stupid, but you are not that stupid. Please don't tell me that this book fooled you in any way. Did you seriously buy into the letters and the "stories?"

Fucking letters. Fucking stories. Bullshit attempts at letters and storytelling and an epistolary timeline that is everything overwrought, all that is overdramatic and completely devoid of sense and rationality. I would beg for a little bit of sensationalism over sense, because overall, the plot of this story is entirely lacking in anything remotely resembling fascination, anything that would captivate and hold the imagination rather than lulls it to sleep.

You endured over 700 pages of this balderdash for a story that doesn't even bring any sense of excitement. Vlad Tepes holds no danger. He is the equivalent of a grown-up high school bully. Once powerful, he no longer holds any amount of thrall. The only remnants of his power are the few close hangers on, the few douchebags foolish enough to cling onto the remains of a long-diminished power. That high school bully might scare a few odd child here and there, with his posturing, with his scowls. You, as an adult, are no longer afraid. You, as an adult, should know better than to buy into this book's aesthetically pleasing, inconsequential claptrap.

Reluctantly yours,

An older, a more erudite, a considerably more critical

- Khanh

I have several stuffed animals. More specifically, Webby, Reynardine, and Love Puppy.

This is Webby: god knows how old he is. He's squishy and loveable and the sweetest spider in the whole damn world.

This is Reynardine: he's...scary. Let's just leave it at that.

And this is Love Puppy. In the corner is Charlie the cow, who is a victim of my breakup with the guy holding Love Puppy. Charlie is now relegated to a box. We shall not speak of him again.

I lead a quiet life, as such, my stuffed animals are lonely. My sister just went back to UC San Diego today. She has an exciting life. She goes places. She does shit. I am lending Love Puppy to her. We both love Love Puppy to bits, and from now on, Love Puppy will have ALL THE ADVENTURES THAT I'M NOT HAVING. But Reynardine will travel with my sister to Korea when she goes to study abroad next summer ^_^

So here he is tonight, watching the Food Channel from a UC San Diego dorm.

Here he is, helping my sister pack for her staff retreat tomorrow:

And we'll see where he's off to tomorrow!

We also have Mushu, but let's not talk about him...

Because this is what happens when my sister and I play with each other. I end up mummified.

Finally! A heroine who's got her fucking head on straight!!



Murder. Magic. Mayhem. No insta-love. No love triangle. A cave full of young men, assassins to be, their deadliness defies their age. A young woman on a mission that will likely kill her. An assassin assigned to guard her.

This was a fast read, an enjoyable book that is light on romance, with a realistic, complex heroine who has a fatalistic streak (and who can blame her). This is a fantasy book with elements of magic, there is a rebel nation to be saved, a secret lair of killers, a murderer to be found.

Summary: 17 year old Ileni was supposed to be one of the greatest sorcerers among her people, the Renegai, but no longer. She is losing her magic. Her powers are fading day by day. Once, she was a revered magician among her people, now she is the object of scorn and pity. Ileni has been trained for greatness her entire life, she has sacrificed her family to be a great magician, and this is an imaginable downfall. Unable to face the prospect of living without a future, without her lover, Ileni volunteers herself for what is essentially a suicide mission.

...not a single person still cared about her day-to-day life. Everyone had put her out of their minds.
No longer a part of anyone’s life.
It’s better, she told herself. Better than staying while her magic dimmed, being an object of pity and charity.

Ileni doesn't care about living, but maybe she might find something worth living for.

“How can you know what your life is worth if you don’t know what you would trade it for?”

In a secret cave, there is a guild of assassins. They have been in existence for hundreds of years, their mission is anything but quick. They are but raindrops in the deluge that they hope will eventually overthrow a country ruled by evil sorcerers, one that has long threatened both the rebel Renegai and the assassins. The Renegai are a sect ruled by magicians, they are wary of the assassins, and the feeling is mutual. In order to maintain their tenuous peace, the Renegai sends the assassins a teacher to teach the younger assassins the use of minor magic. Two of the previous magicians sent to the assassins have died, under seemingly suspicious circumstances, in quick succession.

Ileni's powers are fading so fast that it is almost gone. She volunteers to be the next teacher; Ileni knows she will likely die in the caves, and she doesn't really care. Her mission is not only to teach the young assassins magic while keeping secret the fact that her powers are almost nonexistent, but to investigate the murders.

She faces many hardships along the way. Hostile young students, assassins who are trained to kill. Their targets may be children, it does not matter, because each death is one more contribution to the overall goal of freedom. She has to teach these people without revealing her weakness. She has to face assassins who are hostile, who distrust her, who belittle her, who threaten her, who bully her, who mock her. Her life is in constant danger, even with a guard, the assassin Sorin.

There are spies, murderers, dark magic, a Master magician who is so powerful, so all-controlling he can send people to their death with but a word. Ileni thought she would end her life in these caves. Nope. It's just beginning.

The Setting: The one major weakness in the book. The setting is tremendously unclear. The entire book takes place in a cave, and while that's not a problem, the setting and the context remains missing. It is extremely vague. To be honest, I can barely recall the book's fictional country name. All I recall, not even half an hour from finishing the book, is that there are big bad dark magicians from another country and that there are two sects of rebels, the assassins and the magicians (the Renegai). I am reading the ARC, so I don't know whether there will be a map given or not, but overall, this world building did not please me at all. Not to mention the fact that a good big of the world building was delivered through a SPEECH.

She took a deep breath and continued. “Two hundred years ago, when most sorcerers swore their allegiance to the Rathian Empire, my people separated from them. We were labeled renegades and hunted down. We fled here, to these mountains, to maintain our ways, build our strength, and wait for the right time to return. In exchange for my presence here, your master will leave my people in peace to pursue their task.”

I just call that lazy.

The magic is also very imprecisely explained. We do not get a good explanation of the magical system and how power was used. We do not get a good explanation on why Ileni has lost her power. This probably wouldn't matter to most people, honestly, but it bothers me, because I like knowing these things. Magic is so important to Ileni, and because of its importance to her, I feel like she should have let us know more about it and how it worked.

The Characters: I really like Ileni's character. I admit that she is rather fatalistic, but I can't blame her. She has beenb groomed for greatness her entire life, and it has been taken from her. Wouldn't you mope about it? I know I would. Ileni is severely depressed about the loss of her magic, but she never sulks, she never whines, she sucks it up and does what needs to be done, be it instructing the assassins on magical use, or investigating the previous teachers' deaths. Even the slightest use of magic leaves her drained for days.

...the tiredness seemed to come from within her, as if her body simply had no interest in remaining awake.

She has to use all of her mastery, all of her wits in order to convince her students (who could kill her in a heartbeat) that she is a competent teacher, who is perfectly capable of killing them with her own magic, instead of a completely helpless girl in a cavern full of young men.

A cavern full of young men, you say? I smell a lot of romance, you say? Not fucking likely. These guys are assassins, they don't give a shit about girls. They're killers. They have a purpose in life that extends beyond the reach of their penis. They are bad-ass, they are threatening, and Ileni is truly in danger here.

He led her around the edge of the cavern, far too close for comfort to several of the duelers—none of whom glanced in their direction, even though they must never have seen a girl here before.

THAT'S RIGHT! Ignore the girl! There's no room for wimps here. There are no flowers in the fucking caverns, y'all.

Ileni faces a lot of hostility from the boys, she even gets beaten up, and I like the fact that she holds her grounds. She is not perfect, she makes stupid decisions occasionally, but she learns from her experience. Ileni is smart, she is an investigator, despite the loss of her magic, and her extremely limited use of it, she perseveres through. She learns to fight. She doesn't become an assassin, but she can defend herself. She is realistic, and I like that.

And despite her despair, I love how she can open up, how she can find a moment of joy when the opportunity presents itself. She does not constantly wallow in her depression.

She knew this would end badly. It was so ridiculous and so doomed that she could almost despise herself. Except, except . . . except her whole life was ridiculous and doomed, so if a brief interlude of happiness had come her way, why not grab that? She had forgotten how good it felt to be happy.

The Romance: Loved it! Absolutely loved it. The romance is light, so very light, and builds up believably. Sorin may be an assassin, but he's not an ass.. He is cold, he is guarded, but he has been trained to be that way his entire life. Sorin has been raised since childhood to be a killer. He spends his life training. He has had zero exposure to anything else. His single goal is to train to be a killer, to be a worthy subject to the Master. He longs for the day when he is sent on a mission, even if it means dying.

For Sorin, dying is noble. Dying for a cause is something worthy. He has no time to worry about girls, he has no time for jealousy, and indeed, it amused me a great deal to see how little Sorin gets jealous in the few attempts when Ileni actually HOPES that he might be.

She also hoped—stupidly, and hating herself for it—that Sorin would be jealous. But when he stepped closer, the only expression on his face was disbelief.

Sorin may be cold, but he is not hostile. He is Ileni's ally, someone she can trust.

“I can help make your time here more successful, if you’ll listen to my advice.”
Sorin’s shoulders rose and fell with his sigh. “I want you to succeed.”

Sorin and Ileni's relationship builds up beautifully, they become friends before lovers. Neither of them trusts easily, and frankly, both of them have more to worry about than the matters of their heart. They acknowledge their attraction to each other, but it is a slow process, and one I found completely believable. They complement each other. They test each other. They challenge each other's beliefs.

“I can help make your time here more successful, if you’ll listen to my advice.”
“How kind.” At least this was distracting her, and delaying the inevitable.
Sorin’s shoulders rose and fell with his sigh. “I want you to succeed.”

And their romance...it is so awkwardly adorable, when it finally happens.

“I have no right to risk my life for this.” He stepped back against the door, as if she was a threat. It was the most flattering thing he had done since she entered the caves. “It means nothing. It was inevitable, even. After all, you’re the only girl I ever see.”
That was rather less flattering.

I received this book as an Advance Reader Copy. All quotes were taken from an uncorrected galley and is subject to change in the final edition.

Mulan would fucking NEVER. Screw the love triangle. Screw the overwhelming romance. This is not a fantasy book. This is a love story. Don't look for anything beyond that.

Hearts flutters. Desire courses. Cheeks flush. Blood flows overwhelmingly to the penis instead of the brain. WHERE IS MY PROMISED MULAN?!

I am just so bloody tired of so-called bad-ass heroines who do fucking nothing to prove that they're capable. I am so fucking sick of heroines who spend their supposedly ass-kicking selves sobbing and crying and fucking feeeeeeeeeeling things and checking out her fellow half-naked soldiers wondering things like, my god, how did I not notice how fucking HOT his body looks when he's dripping with sweat! It's a fucking reverse harem!



Let's just overlook the fact that there are fucking rape farm/breeding houses for a moment, because there are bigger problems at play here. Yeah, you heard me. Breeding houses. Rest assured, there will be a rant on that, with many words starting with F and ending in UCK, but for now, let's stick to the main issue at hand, which is to say, the problem with this book is the fact that it is a goddamned romance and nothing more, complete with much sighing, much longing, much "I CAN SEE HIS SOUL THOUGH HIS EYES" crap and a love triangle. If you took away all the breaths that goes aflutter and the pitterpatter of fucking heartbeats, this book would be around 50 pages instead of the original 300+.

I had high hopes for this book. You know why I'm making so many random Mulan references? Because that's what this book promised me, in a goddamned nutshell. Come on, now. A girl disguised as a boy, serving as a soldier. The parallels are obvious. But no. Mulan has a good head on her shoulders. Alexa's head is so high up her ass that it actually reaches her heart, and that's my only explanation for the overwhelming amount of romance in this book.

I wanted this:



I got this:



Summary: Alex is actually Alexa, a 17-year old girl, disguised as a 20-year old man in the army. She and her twin brother, Marcel, has been soldiers assigned to serve as Prince Damian's guards. Years ago, a foreign army invaded their land, and the only option for Alexa was to disguise herself as a boy so she could join the king's army, otherwise, she would be forced into a breeding house.

Alexa is special. Skilled. Spectacularly skilled. Blessed with extraordinary fighting skills, as her brother would say. She can even beat her bigger brother in a fight. Hell, she can beat every fucking soldier in the squad. Because she's really, really special. And talented. And Rylan, yummy Rylan with his chocolate brown eyes, thinks so, too!

Alexa is in service to Prince Damian. He's an asshole (a gorgeous asshole, naturally). He parties all day. He has women throwing themselves at him (Well, women who aren't in the breeding houses, that is. Still no fucking idea how that works.) Prince Damian is a complete asshole, son of the motherfucking tyrant king, but Alexa knows that under his dirtbag interior, there's more to him. She can see the gentleness in his eyes, she can see it in the way he tilts his head, she can see it in the swirling pattern of the shit he takes in the outhouse. The fact that he acts like a douchebag means absolutely nothing at all.

Marcel dies right away! Well, that's so fucking convenient! Because now Alexa gets to be aaaaall alone with Prince Damian! They're so close! She gets to guard his bed! She gets to be around him all the time! She gets to see him half-naked, glistening in sweat! And man, is that fucking Damian a yummy dish! MUST. STOP. BLUSHING. BECAUSE. SOLDIERS. DON'T. BLUSH.

She thinks he sees interest in Damian's eyes, which, to a reasonable person would mean that Damian is gay, since Alexa is under disguise as a MAN, after all, but fuck common sense, right?

Alexa spends days, nights guarding Damian, thinking of him, bonding with him, getting closer to him, seeing his well-defined abdominals, dreamily interpreting and overthinking every fucking thing he says and does. She gets to go on a secret mission with Rylan, the yummy chocolate-eyed guard! She gets closer to him. She feels the camaraderie---the...love? Wait, can this be love? But what about Damian! How does Alexa get close to Damian?

But then they get kidnapped! There's danger! There's intrigue! There's more opportunities for Rylan and Damian to get closer to Alexa as they travel through the hot, humid jungle! And what does heat and humidity mean? TAKE OFF YOUR CLOTHES, RYLAN AND DAMIAN! YEAH! Clothing optional: because I swear that the guys in this book spend more time half-naked than the entire pack of Forks werewolves put together. Jacob Black would be ashamed.

Does the friendly, protective Rylan mean more to Alexa than the handsome, intriguing, mysterious Prince Damian? How will Alexa ever choose?!

And the fate of the nation rests upon Alexa! Wait. Where the fuck did that come from?

The EMOTIONS: Mulan would never fucking pull half the shit this stupid chick does. Mulan is a fucking master of disguise compared to Alexa.

This is me (in a very unfortunate sparkly photo booth):

I would actually be a more convincing man than Alexa, because half the fucking cast guesses that she's a girl. Why? SHE BLUSHES, SHE FLUSHES, HER HEART FLUTTERS, SHE GETS FLUSTERED. Soldiers would never. Mulan would never! Let's see, throughout the book. Alexa can hardly "keep from blushing. "[Her] heartbeat was probably visible in [her neck], it was pounding so hard." Her neck grows hot. Her cheeks flush. Her heartbeat flutters. Her emotions are welling underneath the surface. FUCKING ENOUGH ALREADY. Is all this shit supposed to prove to me that you are a fucking warrior? I don't bloody think so.

I understand the need to be feminine, that feminity does not disappear under the guise of a man. That clothing does not hide who you are, regardless, there is a fucking time and place for your fucking emotions and your thoughts of romantic love, so leave that shit elsewhere because I don't fucking want it. I want a bad-ass heroine who knows her duty. I want a kick-ass chick who can suppress her emotions enough to get shit done. Alexa proves to me nothing. Throughout her painful narrative, all I got from Alexa is a girl who wants to frolic in a field of flowers with her douchebag prince while her fellow soldier stands posing half-naked on the side. I see a girl whose emotions, whose need for romance gets the better of her, and really, fuck that shit. It has no place in a book where the plot is supposed to be important.

Her emotions. ALEXA'S FUCKING EMOTIONS FOR HER LOVER(S). They are all over the goddamned place. Is it a problem? YES, IT IS. She shouldn't be focusing on whether she's falling in love with Prince Damian or Rylan when her identity is at stake, when a war is in progress, when the fate of so many people lies in question. Alexa can't seem to think beyond her needs and her feeeeeeeeelings. Want some examples? I'll give you some examples.

Her heart beats, oh, how her fucking heart beats all the fucking time, so much that I just wanted to rip it from her stupid fucking chest. Alexa's heart (all quotes from the book) "pounds" (many times), "constricts," "beats erratically," "thudded," "skipped a beat," "lurched unwittingly," "beats harder," "raced," "jumped into her throat," "skids a bit," "leaped into her throat," "beat unevenly," "raced," "constricted," "pounded," ""flopped like a wounded animal," "leaped into my throat." Ok, I'll stop there. That's around half the book. HALF. THE. BOOK.

Her blood: "pulsed hot through her veins", "pulsed hot through her body" (several times).

Her cheeks: "felt flushed" "blushed" (so many times), "grew warm with shame," "flamed" (multiple times), "burned," "grew hot again," "grows hot."

She cries. She bawls. She runs away when her emotions for the two guys get the better of her (when they're in the motherfucking jungle). Her eyes "burned with tears," "tears ran down her cheeks," she "swallows her tears." She's a fucking Kleenex commercial. She cries so many times that I frankly got sick of it. I don't fucking care. I understand that emotions get the better of people sometimes, but seriously, choke it down. I want a warrior who can control her emotions. I don't want you to cry like a motherfucking pussy when the boy you love lies to you.

Her priorities are just plain fucking wrong. In the middle of the fucking forest, she wonders:

This is a disaster

Oh! Yay! A disaster! Why is it a disaster? I can think of a few reasons why, because they're kind of in a precarious situation. Like they were just kidnapped, they're traveling in the jungle. They're afraid for their lives. Surely, THIS IS THE DISASTER ALEXA TO WHICH ALEXA IS REFERRING.

Wrong. Why is it a disaster?

[Rylan] wouldn't meet my gaze, and my stomach clenched. But Damian looked straight at me, and his expression was one of confusion, even hurt.

ARE. YOU. FUCKING. KIDDING. ME? Your life is in danger, and you're concerned about two boys fighting over you like two alpha wolves fighting over which tree they get to fucking piss on first?

Mulan would fucking NEVER.

The Setting: Rape houses?! Really? Fucking seriously? WHY?! I might understand it if there was a reason behind it, if there was a compelling plot issue behind it, but no. The inclusion of the rape/breeding houses was absolutely pointless. It is mentioned only several times throughout the book. Seriously, it is pointless. It is a tool of fear, and I hate the fact that sexual violence is used as the major threat of oppression. There are so many factors at play in a crual regime such as this, and there was absolutely no point to the rape houses.

So there actually was a point to the rape houses, according to the book. They are used to breed soldiers. What the actual FUCK, people? That doesn't even fucking make sense. According to the book, the king's evil war-bound regime started somewhere around the time of Alexa's birth, which wasn't even fucking 20 years ago. In all that time, the only tool in his arsenal to create more soldiers is to make breeding houses, where women are imprisoned as soon as they get their first period and are forced to spend their entire fertile lives breeding new soldiers for the king's army?! That makes no fucking sense. You could kidnap soldiers from other countries. You could train your own soldiers really well. Or you could piss off your fucking entire nation and invest 10-15 years into a war that you are losing while you're waiting for your future army to grow up? Seriously?!

Children are not sprung forth from Zeus' forehead, fully grown, fully fucking able to fight. This ain't Greek mythology, these are people, not gods. Even if you wanted fucking child soldiers, it would take 10-15 years to get them anywhere ready to fight. And to piss off your entire nation like that? Why?! You are fucking all your people (literally and figuratively) for no reason at all. You fucking expect me to believe that? That men are willing to send their wives, daughters, sisters, nieces, off into these houses to be raped their entire lives, to be killed by childbirth, be terrorized, and do absolutely jack shit about it? How fucking dumb do you think I am?

Take a culture of extremism. Take Afghanistan. Take the Taliban. Yeah, they oppress their women. They don't educate them. But do you really fucking think that all the men would do nothing if all their women were taken away to be raped constantly? I don't fucking think so. There is always a line.

And this concept isn't even constant. The setting itself is so poorly done. You have 3 nations, one of them is a quasi-Chinese one, and all of them are so poorly described that I have no sense of nationality, no sense of what differentiates them, no sense of why they are fighting amongst each other. I don't know their society. We are mainly in the country of Antion. I know nothing of Antion culture. I know nothing of Antion history. I know nothing about the people of Antion besides the fact that they are constantly at way.

Think of it this way, I am neophyte to geography, to history. You give me 3 nations: Ireland, England, Wales. How the FUCK do I distinguish between them if I know nothing about them but the fact that they're relatively close to each other? The world building is so incredibly vague in this book. There is largely no history, there is no explanation for anything. The magical system is completely basic, BOOM! Magic! Some people haz it, some people don't! There you go! Take it, swallow it, be thankful for it because you ain't given any more than that.

I don't know how and WHY certain women are allowed to go around dancing in the court and fucking Prince Damian while the rest (god knows how many they are) are forced into these breeding houses. Screw this world. It is faker than Kim Kardashian's plastic ass, just as believable (and nowhere as inviting).

The Romance: FUCK THAT LOVE TRIANGLE. FUCK THAT. The entire book is filled to the brim of Alexa's wavering heart between the unfortunate friend-zoned Rylan and the douchetastic Prince Damian, who has an "exquisite exterior," as well as an exquisite posterior. The entire book is filled with Rylar's pained protestations of love (love, not like) for Alexa, and Prince Damian's runs-cold-then-hot gestures of love (love, not like) for Alexa. Love! Love! LOVE! SOOOOOOOOOO much love. She admires their well-muscled body, their shirtless moments, seriously, the guys in Playgirl wear more clothing than Damian and Rylan.

"I almost cried again. I could no longer deny that I was falling for him---so fast and so hard it scared me. But I had feelings for Rylan, too---he was the closest friend I'd had at the palace."

Priorities. Why do you not have them, Alexa? You have a motherfucking country to save.

Alexa is a psychic. Well, actually, she's not a psychic, but I'm convinced she is one. You see, she feeeeels things. She seeeeeees things. Prince Damian is a douche. He has always been a douche, but in his eyes, Alexa sees that there's something more. She sees that he's a kindly person because his eyes says so. She feels that he is a gentle soul because of the way he bends his head. She sees that he loves bunnies, puppies, and small children according to the way he hesitates before talking to her. She knows that underneath his cruel front, Prince Damian is the king the country needs, because his farts smell like Calvin Klein Eternity.

STOP SEEING STUPID SHIT IN PEOPLE'S EYES. Actions! Actions speak louder than words, people. I hate it when people seeeeees through others' souls in books. Eyes tell you nothing. I once dated a guy who told me that we were meant to be together. He said that he knew I felt the same way, because my eyes were looking into his soul.

I was actually thinking of what I would be doing that night when I got home and played on my priest character in World of Warcraft. That was our last date.

The end.

I received this book as an Advance Reader Copy. All quotes were taken from an uncorrected galley and is subject to change in the final edition

(I can hear you running away, screaming at the top of your lungs, Cory)

There's a shit ton of romance, and a fucking LOVE TRIANGLE.

THERE ARE FUCKING RAPE/BREEDING HOUSES, AND I THINK THAT'S NOT AS BAD AS THE ROMANCE.

So far, this girl is supposed to be a bad-ass soldier. The baddest ass of soldiers. She's like, seriously bad-ass man.

Did I mention how bad-ass she is? She just is. It's an innate ability. I mean, she can kick all the soldiers' asses AND her bigger twin brother. She is just that bad-ass, man.

And yet, she sighs. She blushes. A lot. She checks out her fellow soldiers. Her heart flutters. The blood rushes to her face. She flushes. She blushes. Her heart twitters. She can't help noticing her fellow soldier's chiseled abs. His chocolate-brown eyes.

She thinks the evil prince isn't evil at all, because why?  BECAUSE HIS EYES, MAN, HIS EYES ARE TRYING TO TELL HER SOMETHING.

She thinks the prince is looking at her differently. FUCK YOU, BITCH, THAT JUST MEANS HE'S GAY, BECAUSE YOU'RE IN DISGUISE AS A MALE SOLDIER!!!!!!

FAAAAAAAAAIL.

I had a nagging sense of familiarity while reading this book, and it wasn't until the end that I finally realized what it was. This book reminded me of The Bone Season, and if you know me and my history with that book...it's not a good thing. This was such a disappointment to me, because this had been one of my most eagerly anticipated books for 2014.

It is an overhyped book that underdelivered. It was technically perfect while being completely devoid of emotion, with a convoluted, action-packed plot that made largely no sense. The world building is chock full of strange terminology (minus the glossary), and the world itself is without much context, without much sense. The characters are forgettable, they are merely generically likeable and utterly lacking in personality. It is heavy on a completely unnecessary romance, with a tremendous amount of insta-love. And most importantly, however action-packed it was, I just found myself completely, utterly bored.

I wanted to DNF this book at 25%. I trudged on. I wanted to DNF at 75%. I forced myself on. And honestly, I could have DNFed this at 95% because this book just bored me to all hell, and I did not give a single fuck about any of the characters. The book was so incredibly long and dull that I did not really care about what happened in the end.

Here are some of my problems with this book

The Overly Complicated Plot: It is never, ever a good thing when halfway through the book, I have to go look back at the summary because I wasn't sure what I was reading. Judge my intelligence how you will, but I found this book to be a tremendous confusion-packed mess. Very, very briefly, it goes something like this: We have Meadow, a girl, who lives on a steamboat with her dad and siblings. We have Zephyr, an orphan boy who lives with flelow orphans, picking up bodies. For some reason, there are a whole lot of bodies to be picked up. There's a lot of people just dying, and it's no big deal at all. Meadow is trying to get a job. She gets it by killing a girl (and the job is never, ever mentioned again). People kill each other. Again, nobody cares. Zephyr acts really tragic, he speaks mysteriously about his "secret." We have no idea what the secret is. He dreams of a "moonlit girl" with silvery blonde hair (who is *gasp* Meadow). They run into each other several times, purely out of coincidence. They fall in love. They go chill on a boardwalk (because what else are you supposed to do when you're not picking up the corpses on the street).

Zephyr whispers sweet nothings into Meadow's ears. He tries to kill her.



Yeah. And then there's all this running away and lots of killing and lots of blood and lots of conspiracies.

And we're not even 33% into the book yet. Forget the killings in the book, I was about to be killed by boredom. I don't even fucking know what a Murder Complex is until around 50% into the book. The summary lies. Big time.

The Romance: I understand teenaged hormones, I understand attraction, and I don't throw the word insta-love around unless I feel strongly that it exists: this book is so utterly, completely packed with insta-love and unnecessary romance.

My breath sort of stops, right there in my lungs.
Standing behind the glass...is the person I swear I’ve waited my entire life to see.

There is a time and place for love, and it is not in a dystopia, and the words "I LOVE YOU" should not be uttered when you've seen the person all of a few hours, when the book is not even 33% finished.

I should be mad. I should be angry and embarrassed.
Instead, all I can think is I might love this girl.

Take Zephyr. The insta-love is strong with him. He dreams of a girl...

The stars are out tonight. But the stars aren’t what I want to see right now.
It’s the moon. The moon that reminds me of the moonlit girl.
My moonlit girl. She’s the cure to my nightmares, the one thing that helps me feel safe when I can’t even trust my own dreams to harbor me.
There aren’t many things I want.
But stars, I want the moonlit girl.

"Moonlit girl." "Silvery-blonde" girl. Moonlit girl. MOONLIT GIRL. It is repeated so many times throughout the book that I was sick of it, and I was sick of Zephyr. For fuck's sakes, you have more things to worry about than a girl who appears in your dreams.

"...maybe there’s a chance she’s been dreaming of me, too."

Meadow is no better, for all her claims of being a tough killer.

He is beautiful. Shaggy brown hair sweeps across his face, and I am shocked at how bad I want to touch it.

She shouldn't be thinking this while she's watching the guy BLEED TO DEATH.

It is the kind of love that I, with my practical mind, hates the most. Zephyr's love for Meadow is that of infatuation, that of predestination, that of fate. I don't believe in fated love. I believe that love should be based on friendship, trust, it should be worked on, it should be earned. Zephyr's instantaneous love for Meadow is so completely impractical, so completely unbelievable, so utterly girlish in terms of a serious, blood-filled novel such as this. This book aims to be Nikita, if so, it should really just leave out the sudden, inexplicable romance that truly plays no role in the plot at all.

The Big Event: This is not a spoiler, just something that happened in the past that led up to this future. Let's say that you are a researcher at a lab. You just discovered a new drug. Do you get it onto the market right away? No. Fuck no. We have a fucking thing called the Food and Drug Administration. It takes 5-30 years to get a drug onto the market. You need fucking drug trials. You need fucking human trials. You need to prove beyond a reasonable doubt that it is completely safe for human consumption. You don't fucking get approval from the government to pump it through the water system right away for the consumption of some 300-million odd Americans. Americans would never fucking go for that shit. Hell, we have enough complaints about the current water supply being infused with fluoride for the good of our teeth. Fuck that shit. There's a thing called the Drug Approval Process and it doesn't get anywhere as convenient as tings happened in this book. Look it up.

The World Building and Terminology: The Dark Times. The Silent Hour. Nanites. Pins. Leeches. Fluxing this, Chumhead that. The Catalogue Dome. Creds. The Initiative. The Plague. The Pulse. Wards. Placement Tests. My head was spinning. It's not even strange terminogy, but it makes no sense out of context, and there is very little context. You know sometimes in college, you have a brain fart and accidentally wander into a huge lecture hall that's not your own (ok, maybe just me) and you're sitting there sweating buckets, wondering why the fuck nothing makes sense? That's how I felt about this book. I was completely immersed into a well-built world that has very little background.

Ok, so we're in the future, there was an event called a pre-Fall that was never really explained. People are dying. Again, no explanation at all for quite some time. The word Murder Complex isn't even mentioned until we're considerably 25% into the book, and even then, it took a whole lot more book space until we find out what it was, and I was completely lost and all the cares I had for this book had flown out the window by the time I got to this point. There are no food. There is a ruling Initiative. There are tons of orphans. There are gangs. And it's not even 20 years into the future.

WAIT, WHAT? ARE YOU KIDDING ME? Seriously, the world is well built, but there was so very little explanation for the current society, and the past, and the explanation of the past that I found this version of dystopia to be completely forgettable. There was an absolute lack of historical context that would only bypass the most forgiving of readers.

The Confusion: This book is so action-packed that I had trouble keeping track of where they are, and when they are. I just don't know where things are taking place. Zephyr and Meadow are talking, where are they? Fucked if I know. The setting is poorly built in this matter because I just can't get a clear idea of where things are and what is happening.

The Characters: Are inconsistent, are forgettable, and make choices that make no sense at all. Meadow can't make up her mind who she wants to be. She is supposed to be a killer, and we see that. She kills. I admire that. But then she goes around and falls in love and starts kissing a boy seconds before he tries to kill her. And then she gets mad at him, and then forgives him, and then can't make up her mind whether or not she should kiss him or kill him? Fuck that. Her father trained her to be a killer, and Meadow knows that in order for her to survive, she must be a killer. It makes no sense that she is so utterly wishy-washy in her actions, in her choices.

I honestly had a tough time telling which chapters were Zephyr's and which chapters were Meadow's, towards the end of the first half of the book, because their voices blended together and they felt like a single entity instead of one. I think it's more of the fact that Zephyr's voice felt effeminate, and he is such an utterly pale character that I can't be bothered remembering him.

Other characters in the book are completely nonsensical in their decisions. Take Meadow's take-no-prisoner father. He's been training his children to survive since they were small, understandable, but it doesn't really fucking make sense to tell his kids to do something that almost got them killed NUMEROUS times, in fact, they were seconds away from death as children. There are surely better ways of training your children and not lose them in the attempt. I really can't find any liking for the characters in this book.

Convenient Events: I don't want to say deus ex machina, but there you have it. There are WAY too many convenient coincidences in this book. Accidentally climb onto a yacht only to overhear something important? Accidentally discovering the importance of one's mother? Accidentally discovering MORE SHIT? OH, WE JUST HAPPENED TO FIND A CRATE OF WEAPONS. No. No. No. After the 5th such discovery, I just wanted to scream out in frustration.

Boredom: Ok, this is just entirely subjective, but there we have it. I was bored as fuck, and this book was a tremendously long waste of my time.

Overall: a terrible disappointment. Don't buy the hype.

This book was provided to me as an Advance Reader Copy. Quotes were taken from an uncorrected galley and is subject to change in the final edition.

I don't think many people would describe me as being overly sentimental, but man, this book just brought out the emotions in me.

The writing flows. The characters are realistic. Their voices are believable. Their fears, their insecurities, their choices are so realistic, so relatable. Ok, it's a bit overdramatic towards the second half, but for the most part, this book was a really, really good read.

If you are a young woman growing into adulthood: you need this book. It will tell you that change is sad, change is inevitable. It is ok to feel like a fish out of water. It is ok to both want to leave the nest, and simultaneously, it's perfectly fine to fear spreading your wings and taking that initial flight. Friendships will end, love will end, but many more will take their place. It's ok to resent your family, and still want to cling on to them.

Hell, even a grown-ass woman like me enjoyed this book. It brought me back to my own years as a teen. I don't think there's a single grown woman out there who hasn't gone through this process of change, of growing up. This book was so beautifully bittersweet for me, it was the most wonderful of surprises. I know my friendships ended. I know I was hurt. Going into college is such a big deal, it's such a tremendous change from childhood, and I thought this book portrayed the experience perfectly.

I don't do contemporaries. I just don't. I find them trite. I find them boring. They make me yawn. Fuck, man, if I wanted to relive teenage high drama, I'd listen in to my sister's friends' conversations. There's enough materials in there for me to write several volumes of books (that nobody would ever want to read). Yeah, cute, but I'll pass.

Which is why I'm incredibly shocked at my reaction to this book: I LOVED IT. What? WHAT? Where did this come from? Did my heart grow 3 sizes over Christmas or something? No. But seriously, I really, really liked this book. It reminded me of why I love a good coming-of-age novel. The two girls in this book stand at that ever-so-precarious cusp of childhood and adulthood; this book is well-written, I felt it was realistic, and the emotional turmoil was believable. I've seen other reviews that complained about the portrayal of race and of the stereotypical "gay dad runs off to be with his lover" thing offensive, personally, I didn't have a problem with it. Ebb's got issues with her dad, yeah, but it's more due to the fact that he ran away than anything relating to homophobia, and her mom's not exactly the most wonderful of role model herself. Parents aren't perfect (gasp). They sometimes suck, and no, being gay doesn't automatically make you a perfect, awesome dad. Gay people, like straight people, can be assholes, too.

I know that interracial romances aren't a big deal anymore and race shouldn't be an issue, but really, it's still a sensitive issue, whether you like it or not. I love the fact that a main character has an interracial romance. I found it funny that her e-mailed buddy wonders "Omg, am I insensitive if I ask about her race because her boyfriend's name sounds black?" Please. I do that, I think we all do that, as a way of trying laughably hard to be inoffensive to someone.

Let's say I just made a new friend, she's telling me she's dating someone named "Kim," offhandedly. In my mind, I'm going, shit, shit, shit, is Kim a guy or a girl? I don't care if my new friend is a lesbian but I want to know so I don't inadvertently make a wrong assumption and offend her! WE ALL DO THIS, GUYS! It's one of those things that nobody ever admits to, and I find it realistic enough and well-written enough not to be offended by it.

Summary: Simple enough. Two girls, Elizabeth (EB) and Lauren (Lo) gets assigned to be each other's roomies next year at University of California, Berkeley. It is June, and they've been given contact information so that they can get to know each other before school starts.

It doesn't start out that well. EB grew up in New Jersey, she is an only child, her mother is a bitter real estate agent prone with a weakness for married men. It is a quiet, isolated, lonely life. Her father came out of the closet (after he got married and had kids), only to run away to San Francisco, leaving his wife and daughter. EB is the warmer character, she is the first to reach out to Lauren, oversharing a little bit as she goes. She is excited to start school, she is enthusiastic to meet her roommate, Lauren...

...who doesn't really want to be roommates with EB.

When I got the full scholarship I knew it would probably be pressing my luck to ask for a single, but the box was there to check so I checked it. A “roomie” is really not what I had in mind. Really not what I had in mind at all.

You see, Lauren's kind of had it up to HERE with sharing a room. She wanted a single room (pfft, good luck getting a single room as a freshman at any of the UCs). The last thing she wants is a roommate---why? Because she's been sharing a room for most of her life. Lauren's life is chaos, because she's got five younger siblings. She shares a room with two of them, one who is barely more than a toddler. She has parents, but they are up to their neck in work in order to support such a large family, and Lauren acts more like a parent to her little sisters and brothers, more often than not. She also holds two jobs; getting the scholarship to Berkeley was her way out of her chaotic home, and Lauren was looking forward to peace and quiet until the email from EB came along.

We hear from the two as they get off to an awkward start, with misunderstandings as neither of them want to come off as the "strange" one. They grow with each other through the summer, as they slowly open up to each other about their lives, their fears, the events in their lives.

It's not all smooth sailing. Their relationship, as with all long-distance relationships, are full of miscommunications, and things they wish they said, or didn't say. Overall, it is a beautifully written book, with wonderful dynamics between friends and family.

The Characters: This book stands on the merits of its main characters. I loved both characters in this book, along with their respective love interests. Douchebags? Nope, no douchebags here. The guys in this book are wonderfully supportive, and so freaking sweet and nice.

We see things from their respective POVs throughout the book, each girl has her alternate chapter, told in their first-person narrative voices. I never got lost between the girls, I never had trouble telling who from whom. Really, the characters and their coming of age was a joy to read. I understood EB's feelings about her boyfriend...you know, that high school sweetheart you once had. What will become of that relationship once you are separated?

I should break up with him, I know. Because I don’t feel that way about him anymore, if I ever did. But it hardly seems worth the effort when college can do the breaking up for me. The path of least resistance is a path I know well, having trod it in circles around my mother for years.

And not just the boyfriend, the friends. The best friend. What will happen to you when you are separated by distance, leading separate lives?

She’ll be going off to Seattle University soon, anyway. In some ways it feels like no big deal. We’ve had our good years and our bad years and always wind up as solid as ever with no major drama. In other ways, it seems we’ve already started to say good-bye.
A lot of our conversations are about memories.

I've been there. We've all been there. Best friends, good friends. One day, you're best friends, the next time you see them at Thanksgiving break, they're almost strangers. It is a shock to the system, and it is what this book does so well. It reinforces us.

Really. My feelings. They're just all over the place right now.

I'm howling with laughter. OH MY GOD NICK CARTER.

“Kricket,” he grins. “It’s such a powerful name,” he breathes.

If a Kricket cries alone in a forest, does Khanh give a fuck? No. No, she doesn't. Who is Kricket? What is Kricket? I'll tell you.

Take the loveliest, most statuesque and Amazonian-like model you can find, then multiply her beauty tenfold. Add some killer cheekbones to that vision of loveliness. Give her a brilliant brain whose intelligence is visible because her frontal lobe is all alight when viewed with special X-ray glasses! Have her be so slender that she can't rappel because the rope used for climbing down mountainsides can't support her bird-light weight (that doesn't even fucking make sense!!!!!!). Make her an orphan. Give her a special destiny. Make her so bloody special without knowing it.

That, my dear friends, is a fucking Kricket.

But that's not all, our Kricket's story doesn't end there, no. Her destiny is intertwined with several douchebags romantic leads, insta-love, a love triangle, and fucking aliens straight out of Earth Girls are Easy. There, in a nutshell, you've got Under Different Stars.

Summary: Kricket is *sigh* an orphan. A tough-luck Orphan Annie. She's 17 (soon to be 18). She is hiding under the radar from the Chicago Department of Social Services, because beautiful girls like her can't survive in the foster system without being shanked because other girls hate her beauty so much that they'll hurt her for it (she's got the scars to prove it!).

So Kricket is lying low. A little hard to do when you're 5'10, with platinum blonde hair, and violet eyes, but *sigh* what can a poor girl do? She's working as a janitor despite having test scores good enough for admittance at the University of Michigan, Ann Arbor, because she can't afford the tuition. She also works at a bar under the table, because naturally, bars are so eager to lose their fucking liquor license by employing an underaged child and paying her under the fucking table.

Kricket is special. She can tell when people lie. Her hair (platinum blonde) grows back immediately after it's been cut.

When most people don't cut their hair ever, they look like this:

While Kricket, with her un-cuttable hair, looks like this:

Did Kricket forget to tell us that her hair is platinum blonde? It's platinum blonde.

She's got a spicy, spicy gay Latino friend and his equally smexy and sassy boyfriend! Life sucks, but she deals. Until douchebags start coming after her for no fucking reason. They try to kidnap her every fucking where she goes (apparently, there are two groups of them) led by two guys: let's call them Asshole and Motherfucking Asshole, respectively). Asshole and Motherfucking Asshole proceeds to lead Kricket on a merry motherfucking chase around Chicago, yelling random ass shit you-will-pay-for-your-crimes to Kricket, but naturally, Kricket doesn't have a fucking clue what they're talking about.

And her hair is platinum blonde.

Finally, Asshole #1 (fine, his name is Trey) manages to kidnaps her using chloroform (which is actually a sweet scent that doesn't smell like ammonia, get your facts straight). He tells her jack shit. He looks into her eyes lovingly.

And her hair is platinum blonde.

Trey nearly drowns her. He tells her that a "crike" is fifty years. He hugs her.

He makes her rappel down a cave (smart) when she's hardly climbed more than the rock-climbing walls at her gym. He calls her Kitten. He sniffs her hair.

He takes her to an alien planet! He tells her nothing. He gently caresses her cheeks.

They run from wild animals and man-eating tigers. He tells her the etiquette between males and females. He tells her how brilliant she is.

Kricket almost sniffs a killer flower. Trey tells her not to! They salsa-dance in the forest! (I'm not fucking kidding)

They arrive in the promised land! Oh, finally, some information!!!! Kricket is important because she's the daughter of her mom! Her mom's a priestess! WELL THAT JUST EXPLAINS EVERYTHING. Her mom's like Helen, the face that launched a thousand ships! The woman who started a war! They started a war over her because she's powerful! Because she can, uh...

“What knowledge? Could she predict the future?”
“I don’t know what her gifts were, Kricket. It was never common knowledge.”

Are you fucking kidding me? These dumb as fuck aliens started a war over a woman whose skills are...unknown? It's like starting a war over Iraq because of some random Weapons of Mass Destructions, man. It's fucking dumb.

And then they get to the special Palace where there's a fucking love triangle over the bigger dickwad who also tried to kidnap her! PLOT?! WHAT PLOT!!!!!!!!!



Oh, and Kricket's hair? It's platinum blonde.

The Setting: AHAHAHAHA. AHAHAHAHAH. YOU'RE KIDDING ME, RIGHT? These fucking aliens are the dumbest piece of shit in the world. The world building is fucking silly, man.

I could tell you that I had a bambuzzle for hugglypoo, and then I went to gympilo to mumple my snortificus, in order to frumplefly my tigglebuns. Does that make any fucking sense? I was laughing my ass off because the language, the language! Pick some random fucking ass words, pretend they're alien words with different meanings, and you've got the language of the Etharians!

“I’m heading straight to Sequelle’s and eating an entire venish.”
“No one can eat an entire venish.”
“I’ll take that wager. No Etharian can eat an entire venish,” Jax replies. “I’ll lay thirty-two fardrooms on it."
“Where are you going to get the money for a wigg?” Wayra laughs.
“I’ll start by taking yours, chester,” Jax counters.
“How many circas of vista did you give her, Trey?” Jax asks, sounding concerned again.

By the way: when a world has LESS gravity, you run slower, not faster. Get your facts straight.

As for the world building of the aliens themselves, standard issue. Nothing imaginative. Nothing extraordinary. The only thing that stands out is how ridiculous and silly the faux-alien language is, and how juvenile the "soldiers" who kidnap Kricket are. They know about the internet. They know how to drive cars. They're aghast at the idea of nail polish! They're stupefied by the idea of a fucking thong.

“Can someone please tell me what that little pink, lacy thing is that I keep catching a glimpse of when she bends down?” Wayra asks.

The Sound of a Single Kricket Chirping: Oh, my! Kricket is so special! She's gorgeous (but doesn't know it). She could be a model (if only she were legal).

“Five-ten is not that tall.”
“C’mon, you look like a Viking. Those modeling agents would freak for your hollow cheekbones and I bet they’ve never seen a natural blond walk through their lobby doors.”

Oh, ONLY 5'10. I'm only 5'4. Fuck you, Kricket. She's got platinum hair, which she reminds us at every fucking chance she's got.

while pulling my hat from my head, causing my long, platinum-blond hair to cascade around my shoulders.

Oh, and her eyes! HER EYES! They're so freakish! Freakishly lovely!

“My eyes are not freakish!”
Enrique makes a derisive sound. “I’ve never met anyone with violet eyes,” he replies, raising his eyebrows. “If I had eyes like yours, I’d be in New York making some serious cash.”

She's so smart! Soooooooo smart!

“So that means she’s smart?”
Jax beams. “Yeah, she’s smart! She’s brilliant! There’s no telling what she can do.”

She's wise beyond her years! These aliens just KNOW this, man!

“You don’t act your age. You ask questions that I’d expect from someone older than you.”

She's BRAVE! Because she knows how to run away from a dangerous monster! As if it's not a natural instinct, like what science calls a "fight or flight" reaction or anything.

Kissing my hair near my temple he whispers against it, “You’re so brave.”

Kricket is special! SOOOOO SPECIAL!

It’s like you were a special case from the start.”

All because of her special parents!

“You’re a very important member of our clan,”
“What am I, royalty?”
“No…you’re much higher than that.” he replies, his eyes assessing me.

MORE THAN ROYALTY! GAAAAAASP!!!!!

She's so fucking perfect that after days trampling through the fucking forest primeval, she's none the worse for wear except for a slight fucking tan.

I examine my reflection in the mirror for the first time in days. I can’t believe that I look almost the same. Apart from a tan, I can’t even tell that I’ve just been pulled through the universe to another one where I’m the enemy to just about everyone.

The Romance: Let's just overlook the whole love triangle thing. I mean it. The love triangle is the least of this book's troubles when it come to romance. Frankly, the romance comes out of fucking nowhere. Trey fucking kidnaps Kricket. She protests, she yells halfheartedly, she doesn't seem to fucking mind. He takes her to another world. She doesn't give a fuck except to protest halfheartedly about killing him. All of a sudden, he's touching her, caressing her, sniffing her hair, telling her that he's lost his heart to her. AND WE'RE NOT EVEN 25% INTO THE BOOK YET.

“You trying to stop her heart, sir?” Jax asks in a concerned tone, coming to me and checking me for injuries.
“No, she’s stopping mine,” Trey replies softly, watching Jax examine me.

I don't quite know what to make of Trey, because Trey doesn't know exactly what he wants to be. He's got no personality. He's not quite a nice guy. He's not quite an asshole (although he sure as fuck tries to be one). He is just completely unnotable, absolutely fucking forgettable in every single way. He seems to ascribe specialness to the already special snowflake that is Kricket. He seems to enjoy playing babysitter to her than being her lover and her equal.

Halfway through the book, Kricket and Trey are already familiar enough with each other to simulate having sex to fool people. It's meant to be steamy, I guess? I laughed.

It's a fucking Herbal Essence commercial with all the moans and groans, guys.

Then, I close my eyes, groaning louder than before as water cascades down my hair. “Ohhh, Trey…Trey!” I call out in a raspy tone, like I’ve heard Bridget do in the middle of the night when Eric sleeps over. Finding a dispenser of shampoo, I pour some in my hand, lathering it in my hair. Eliciting what I hope is a sensual sounding gasp, I let my voice strain as I murmur, “Ahhh…” Rinsing my hair, I try the other dispenser that smells like coconut.

That picture isn't accurate. Kricket's hair is platinum blonde.