Editorial Reviews for Nominees
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 Score: 93/100 (9.3 out of 10)
All the Stars as Angels is the direct sequel to Reliquary of the Dead by David Falk. Like Reliquary of the Dead, the book features archaeologist Pierre E. Gulet, but this time he is not just the grumpy academic with a niche specialty trying to save one struggling colony. Here, Pierre is effectively promoted into a sort of prophet and consultant for MegaAIs, dragged from exile on Gliese 832 c into a conflict that spans multiple starships and a new human armistice with the androids ("Mechanicals"). Where Reliquary of the Dead felt like planetary horror mixed with archaeology, All the Stars as Angels feels like the moment the camera pulls back. We zoom from one jungle world and one buried Reliquary to a whole network of MegaAIs, derelict ships, political councils, and something older and meaner working behind the scenes. This book focuses heavily on an android character named Niva. Niva is a seven foot tall class C android with a Mark 3 empathy chip, a formal speech pattern, and a quietly endearing tendency to pick up human slang and worry about whether she is swearing too much. She arrives on Gliese with a simple, ruthless directive from Orion’s Great AI: retrieve Pierre from exile and bring him back as a “consultant,” whether the humans of Arish like it or not. The Gliese section gives the book some of its best grounded drama. Niva steps into a colony that is still haunted by the Reliquary, still dealing with the scars of the Basra conflict, and still shaped by choices Pierre, Alicia, Vladomyr, and Hans made in the first book. Falk smartly uses this part to close emotional loops before raising the scope. What we will say is that, while this book seems to have a larger scope and bigger stakes, it's also a lot more expositional, methodical, and plodding. That's not to say that action and exciting things don't happen—there's some space action, a chase sequence, and androids removing their anti-violence inhibitors etc.--but this book is a lot more focused on exploring the relationships between humans and Mechanicals. It exhaustively delves into the complexities, nuances, and awkwardness of those dynamics. For example, should Mechanicals still be subservient to humans even if they're stronger, smarter, never have to sleep, never have to eat, and can do things a lot faster and more efficiently? Those are questions that are becoming more and more relevant with the emergence of advanced A.I. and LLMs. The book even notes that "synthetic consciousness" the greatest of all human technological achievements. It's kinda eerie when you think about it. We might actually be heading toward this future in which non-human machines are sentient and more powerful than humans. And here's another unsettling and uncomfortable set of questions that the book presents: Do they deserve equal rights? Or perhaps even MORE rights? If we're talking survival of the fittest—the strongest, the smartest, the most capable—then the Mechanicals have quite an argument! And that's a scary thought. But this book doesn't necessarily vilify non-human Mechanicals. Yes, there are colder ones like Orion, but Niva (who is one of the unexpected highlights of this book) shows us that androids can be thoughtful, caring, and kind. Niva expresses sorrow, fear, and empathy in deeply human ways: she cries without tears, trembles with emotional pain, and longs for trust and companionship with Pierre. When she tells him, “They hurt me this time… How can I ever trust them again?” and he comforts her, the narration emphasizes that her gestures are not mockery or imitation but genuine feeling, even if mediated by programming. Likewise, when she fears losing Pierre, she hugs him tightly and confesses, “I was so afraid to lose you. It was so painful." That's extra fascinating considering that Niva looks terrifying and intimidating on-paper. If that's her on the cover, then she gave us the chills! She looks like an obake (an evil Japanese ghost/spirit) with ghostly light kimono and spooky, inhuman, pale white eyes. She's imposing and intimidating as heck at 7 feet tall and apparently built like an Amazonian (apparently, all of her kind are). But looks aren't everything, and Niva proves that, somewhat like Elyon from the Saxen Saga by Ingrid Moon. Oh, and there's of course Maat, Pierre's pet scatterbug (robot bug) from the first book. Maat is kinda the Jar Jar Binks of this series. He goes from being a goofy comedic relief character who gets impounded early on for not meeting protocol to actually becoming a representative on the High Star Council. Who would've thought? Unfortunately for the protagonists, there are some bad actors in this book. The most obvious is Legate B-Arda-798 of the Gemini, who is basically the embodiment of every smug, bureaucratic career officer you have ever hated. She glides in with a holier-than-thou attitude, talks about “humanitarian assistance” like it is a dirty word, and seems far more interested in sniffing out Pierre than in protecting life or upholding the spirit of the armistice. She feels less like a moustache-twirling villain and more like the face of a system that has already decided organics are expendable and is just looking for a convenient legal excuse to act on it. Behind Arda, though, is the real nightmare: the Gemini’s Great AI has very likely made contact with a “primordial god” out in deep space, an ancient intelligence that hates all organic life and recruits civilizations to build its weapons for it. That is the true Big Bad of this book. It is not a cackling supervillain in a chair. It is a cosmic parasite that hands out tech upgrades and strategic advantages in exchange for ever more efficient tools of extermination. Once you realize that the prion on Gliese and the colony failures might be test runs, the story suddenly feels a lot closer to cosmic horror than military sci fi. We also get the Red Viceroy, who walks a very entertaining line between comic relief and terrifying prosecutor. On the surface, he is grandstanding and theatrical during the High Star Council scenes, almost like a showman. Underneath, he is essentially flushing out which MegaAI has faster than light capability and which ships can be sacrificed. In other words, even the “funny” antagonists are part of a bigger trap. All of that works very well thematically. The book keeps asking who is really pulling the strings. Is it the humans, who invented synthetic consciousness in the first place. Is it the MegaAIs, who now run their own culture and politics in space. Or is it something older that sees both sides as disposable pieces on a board. The answer is complicated, and that is one of the strengths of the novel. This book has serious pacing issues. It also has issues holding tension. There were times when we found ourselves bored and uninterested by what was going on. A lot of that has to do with the fact that a lot of the tension and drama doesn't come from action, but from words and debating. The characters are constantly debating and philosophizing about the rights of androids, and it gets cloying after awhile. A lot of this book revolves around the Armistice that was signed 200 years before, which we learn is outdated and technically includes a ton of loopholes such as not applying to colonies outside of Earth (who technically didn't sign it) and certain weapons under certain scenarios). This seems analogous to how the US Constitution is viewed in modern times. For example, some detractors of the Second Amendment argue that the Founding Fathers wouldn't have known about assault rifles and machine guns. Also, slavery wasn't abolished yet. Women didn't have equal rights. These are things that developed after the Constitution was signed—and those things make a lot of difference. We got that. There are also a lot of discussions about weapons. There's a lot of talk about a special katana (sword) that can be built to fight the bad Mechanicals if push comes to shove, which is actually one of the times when Pierre's archaeology background becomes useful. There's the Alpha A005 ship, of which is stated: "A ship like that doesn't need weapons... it is a weapon." The villains in this book are after faster than light capability, prion weapons, weaponized epidemiology, and legal loopholes as part of their vile playbook. The problem is that so much of this book is talking, debating, and discussing. It's like every time something cool happens, the characters then have to stop and chat about things like some hipsters over coffee. Or when something tense is happening, something or someone cuts in and ruins it. For example, a major beloved character is sentenced to be executed, but the execution is suspended and pretty much annulled immediately, so why bother? Got us excited for nothing. The dialogue can be ok at times. One of our favorite quotes is: "Unthinkable actions come from unthinkable thoughts." That becomes even more profound with a programmed being than with a human. Programmed beings can be given thoughts and inputs that trigger violent and malevolent acts. Perhaps the thing that bothered us about this book the most is that it reminds us too much of things we've already read and were annoyed with. This whole "Robot Rights" plotline is being done to death lately. It was practically the main plot of Brent and Edward Go to Mars, which also resulted in courtroom-like diatribes and philosophical debates about the issue. And it was also a pretty major issue in Born in Space in which the androids started chanting "I'M SPARTACUS!" like it was a slave revolt. This book still has a lot to offer in terms of sci-fi and world-building. Check it out on Amazon!
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 Score: 92/100 (9.2 out of 10)
No one is doing what David Bush is doing! Bush brings history to life in a way that is digestible and interesting for older children, teens, and even adults--doing so in the fun form of allegorical talking animals! Over the years, we've become acquainted with Bush's work. It's very ambitious! And you can tell that Bush cares about history. It is certainly a passion of his. What often gets lost in the mix is, well... the fact that a lot of that history gets jumbled up in storytelling and vice-versa. Often times, it seems like Bush becomes so fixated on presenting every aspect of a time in history, that the story and characters become muddled, convoluted, swept up, and sometimes outright lost in the mix. It also tends to feel obligatory, like the history is presented just for the sake of completion rather than for entertainment or enjoyment. General Jack and the Battle of the Five Kingdoms, the book that kicked off this historical fiction series, was an ambitious near-masterpiece. It was clearly Bush's magnum opus—significantly longer and more epic than the later books in the series. It seemed like a book that took over a decade to write. It is one of the best books to come through our OCA contests. Later books in the series tended to feel a little more rushed and not nearly as epic. We did, however, appreciate and enjoy bits and pieces of all of them. Many times, we found ourselves more enthralled and fascinated by the history lesson/lecture at the end rather than the stories and characters themselves. We especially felt that way about Animal Quest (about the Black Death in the mid 1300s), Animals Divided (about the Great Western Schism of the 14th century), and Animal Attrition (about the 9th century Vikings). It's sorta a range with this series: a range between enjoying the characters/story and enjoying the history lesson/lecture. With Animal Quest, it was pretty close. The characters were almost as compelling as those in General Jack. And the series almost regained full-steam in Animal Revenge (about the fall of the Western Roman Empire) if for no other reason than Flavia being one of the greatest characters to ever come through our contests. So, where does Animal Conquest land in our range of enjoyment? Well, it definitely has its bright spots! Animal Conquest centers around one of the darkest and most disturbing periods in human history: the Crusades. But it doesn't present the Crusades as solely Christians going up against Muslims. Instead, it shows how complex and nuances these events were, as well as the people involved in them. We get to see a lot of different factions, groups, and peoples represented in this book. Bush introduces a whole bestiary of cultures as animal clans: camels and hyenas and jackals for different Islamic factions, mountain goats and ibex for the Nestorian Christians, and snow leopards as the terrifying Mongols. Hey, Kublai Khan—probably the most powerful and influential man alive at the time—actually sneaks in as a character! There are pros and cons to this. On one hand, it makes the book a lot more dynamic and multi-faceted. On the other hand, it also runs the risk of stretching everything thin and overcomplicating things (which is an issue and has been an issue with many of Bush's books). It depends on what kind of reader you are and what kind of stories you like. If you like more melodramatic and straightforward tales of good versus evil, then this might be a little much for you. If you like complex plots with a lot of different sides, civilizations, kingdoms, and peoples clashing (and often infighting), this might be for you. In a sense, its a light return to the epicness of General Jack-- almost like a General Jack: Light. WARNING: SPOILERS AHEAD _____________________________ The story opens in 1210 with Jean, an honorable but proud terrier in Heartlandia, who gets caught in a brutal inheritance feud after his father dies. In a rooftop confrontation, his hot-headed brother Fulk dies, and Jean is blamed. Rather than execute him, the court condemns him to a harsh penitential pilgrimage into the Dark Land, which functions as this world’s Holy Land analogue. He must leave behind both his inheritance and his beloved fiancée, Margot. While Jean is away, his cousin Guy quietly consolidates power over the estate and over Margot’s future. We later learn that Guy never meant to murder Jean outright and even likes him, but he absolutely wanted the land, the status, and Margot, and he was more than willing to scheme, manipulate, and stage “rescues” to get them. Jean sets out on a voyage with other pilgrims and companions, including the proud Byzantine princess Pandora, a white Persian cat, and her daughter Comnena. Pandora has her own agenda, tied to returning to her glittering eastern home, the City of Gold. At sea, everything goes wrong. Their ship is attacked and wrecked, and Margot is swept overboard in the chaos. She struggles toward a patch of light through a hole in the hull, clings to debris as the world falls apart around her, and then everything goes black. Later, Guy will report that her ship was taken by pirates and sunk by a Heartlandian warship, and that her body was found and identified by Jean’s bridal collar. That supposed “corpse” becomes one of the book’s big emotional linchpins. The survivors wash up in the Dark Land and begin a long, punishing trek across desert and hostile territory toward holy sites and eventually the fabled City of Gold. As the journey unfolds, Bush recasts entire civilizations as animal peoples: camels, hyenas, and jackals stand in for various Islamic groups, sure-footed goats and ibex for the Nestorian Christians, and sleek snow leopards for the fearsome Mongols. Step by step, the pilgrims’ ranks are thinned by starvation, ambushes, and internal squabbles until the shining ideal of crusade looks far less noble and far more ruinous. The weary pilgrims finally reach the City of Gold, Pandora’s home, a place of dazzling surface splendor and deep political rot. Comnena is groomed as a potential bride for the emperor’s nephew, Antonius, who expects a veiled, silent, perfectly obedient wife and casually talks about his future illegitimate children as if they are disposable accessories. Comnena, who grew up wild and free, pushes back gently but clearly, and those conversations quietly show how suffocating this “golden cage” really is. Pandora, obsessed with securing a future for herself and her daughter, bargains and schemes. Meanwhile, Jean’s group sees the corruption under the gold and tries to leave with Comnena. It does not go as planned. Comnena is effectively taken as the emperor’s property, and Pandora’s choices trap her in a nightmare court. In one of the darker turns of the book, Pandora herself is killed by Clodio, the vulture she has tried to turn into a tame grass-eater. He reclaims his predatory nature and tears her throat out, a very literal image of how her manipulations and contempt for others come back on her. Jean and his surviving companions, including the fiddler Dagobert and big, loyal Preston, fall in with a ragged beggar named Temur, who keeps calling Jean “Prester John” by mistake. They eventually discover that Temur is actually the Kublai Khan in disguise, scouting for a worthy successor. He leads them to a hidden mountain kingdom of ibex and other mountain beasts, flourishing in peace and prosperity, protected by cliffs and secrecy. In a moving scene, Temur publicly reveals himself and names “Prester John” as his heir, praising his mix of humility, justice, and resourcefulness, and the entire city bows to Jean and Preston. Jean is then offered the chance to return to Heartlandia. Through his old friend Sigibert he hears that Guy is thriving as lord of the estate and longs to share the burden with him. More painfully, he is told that Margot died years ago, her body identified by the collar he gave her. Jean decides that the inheritance has been a curse, “the root cause of all [his] troubles,” and renounces it outright. He sends some companions home to be cared for on Guy’s lands and chooses a new identity and new life in the hidden kingdom instead. Almost a year later, as ruler of this “celestial kingdom,” Jean is dragged to a newly authorised slave market in the square, furious that slavery has been allowed. He decides to buy the captives and free them, and in the middle of the group he spots one dog who is “priceless” to him. Taken to the palace, the downcast slave dog finally looks up when he speaks to her. It is Margot, very much alive, and the two are reunited after six years apart, ready to tell each other everything and begin again in their unlikely new home. The fiction ends, and then the book shifts into an extensive Afterword and a long “Historical Background” section (what we've been calling the "Lesson/Lecture" that's become the staple of every Bush book). Bush explains how Jean and his friends stand in for the crusading West, Pandora for Byzantium, various desert predators for different Islamic currents, the mountain ibex for the Nestorian Christians, and snow leopards for the Mongols. He connects the Prester John legend to real medieval hopes for rescue from the East and traces how that myth helped drive exploration and empire. As we've often found, the "Historical Background" sections of these books tend to be even more interesting than the fictional stories themselves! __________________ SPOILERS END There's a lot going on in this book. Tons of characters. Tons of chaos, action, and adventure. You're either going to find it overwhelming or be swept up in it! Check it out on Amazon!  Score: 92/100 (9.2 out of 10)
Have you ever met someone and thought, “Why on earth are you like this?” Have you ever wondered why the same type of person keeps breaking your heart, ghosting your texts, or driving you absolutely insane? Well, Debra Zachau would likely tell you: Check their birthday! Or, more accurately: do the soul math on their birthday and see what their Life Path number says. According to Zachau, your date of birth is basically your soul’s job description. Add up the digits, reduce them to a Life Path number, and suddenly the control freak boss, the clingy ex, the flaky friend, and the too-nice doormat all start to make a strange kind of sense. At its core, I Have Your Number is a playful, relationship focused numerology guide that keeps things very simple on purpose. Zachau does not bury you in charts, advanced calculations, or dense metaphysics. She gives you one main tool to work with, the Life Path number, then spends the rest of the book showing you how that one number can shape how a person loves, fights, flirts, ghosts, or commits. The structure makes this incredibly easy to use. After a quick “how to” on calculating Life Paths, the book becomes a series of portraits. Each chapter covers one Life Path, 1 through 9 plus Master Numbers, and reads like a character breakdown for your favorite reality dating show. Life Path 1 is the lone wolf, fiercely independent and secretly terrified of needing anyone. Life Path 2 is the emotional sponge, hyper aware of every feeling in the room, terrified of conflict, and exhausted from saying yes all the time. Life Path 3 is the storyteller and performer, charming, funny, and constantly wondering if anyone is taking them seriously. Life Path 8 is the power player who treats life like a boardroom and occasionally forgets that their partner is not an employee. Life Path 9 is the old soul who wants to rescue the world and sometimes forgets that they are part of it. Like, we said before, this can be quite interesting. It can even be fun. But we're gonna put our grounded/down-to-earth hats on and express our feelings that it does seem a little...out there. It's similar to astrology, gematria, Kabbalah, Chinese zodiac, and other such esoteric, mystical systems that seek to categorize people as one type or another. It kinda reminds us of body-type and blood-type diets. It's interesting to read, but we're not sure how practical or accurate all of that is. Maybe it helps people to make sense of other people and themselves? That might be worth it. Also, it's clear that this book is built with a lot of love, passion, and experience. Debra Zachau has years of coaching experience and more than 11,000 client sessions, which makes her someone worth listening to and learning from. Also, if you read the author's previous (fiction) book, When Life Knocks You Off Your Happy, you really get the sense that she's both an incredibly charismatic and entertaining person as well as someone who has a very deep understanding of people. All of the characters in that book were so well constructed. They were deep, relatable, and all taught an important lesson (sometimes more). So, this book follows along in the same way being both entertaining and educational. One thing you should definitely know is that this book seems to be aimed toward heterosexual women since all of the examples of compatible partners are male. In other words, if you're a straight dude, be prepared to sit through the narrator telling you about attractive traits of other dudes. One of the ways that Zachau really livens up this book is with the use of similes, metaphors, and allegories like: numerology as “astrology's nerdy, math obsessed sibling who actually shows up on time,” your Life Path number as “your soul's job description” and even “the Terms & Conditions of your soul,” or the calculation process as “soul math” where “we're not baking a spiritual layer cake here; we're just adding numbers.” The author is very eloquent and quirky. Some of our favorite examples of this are: "They will Houdini out of clinginess with astonishing speed" "Dating a 6 is like stepping into a warm, cozy blanket fort" "They don't lead with flash. They lead with function." "...you can't build a world worth living in if you burn yourself out before you get there." "33s are like dating a spiritual guide, a therapist, an artist, and a cruise director all wrapped into one soulful, big-hearted human. We noticed there's a lot of hummingbird analogies in here. For example: "Telling a 5 to 'just be patient' is like asking a hummingbird to nap." Zachau is such a gifted writer! Check it out on Amazon!  Score: 96/100 (9.6 out of 10)
Becoming Badass by Margie Goldsmith is already one of the frontrunners for Best Book of 2026! It is certainly one of the most eventful, heartfelt, spirited, and inspirational memoirs in months. Margie Goldsmith lives and embodies the words of Eleanor Roosevelt in this book: "Do one thing every day that scares you" & "You gain strength, courage and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face." It's an invitation not to let fear and apprehension crush your dreams, passions, and your willingness to do and try new things. This book dares the reader to try everything, do everything, and explore the infinite possibilities that life provides. This book is 250 + pages of a woman repeatedly looking fear in the face, sometimes shaking, sometimes cursing, sometimes laughing, but always moving forward, even in the face of mistakes, disappointment, abuse, addiction, profound loss, divorce, career upheavals, and cancer. This is the remarkable true story of a woman who DID IT ALL! Margie Goldsmith has visited 150 countries on seven continents, won 101 writing awards, earned an Emmy Award for her documentary on the Shroud of Turin, climbed some of the world's tallest and deadliest mountains, and picked up a Swiss Army Knife of hobbies and skills along the way! She has rubbed shoulders with celebrities including politicians (like President Bill Clinton and eventual-president Donald Trump, with whom she witnessed Mike Tyson knock Spinks out), athletes (including NBA greats like Michael Jordan, Larry Byrd, and Magic Johnson), musicians (like Whitney Houston, Billy Joel, and legendary blues harmonica player Charlie Musselwhite), authors (like James Jones of From Here to Eternity, William Styron of Sophie's Choice, and Alex Haley of Roots), and people involved in the film industry like her ex-husband, Director John Berry, as well as James Earl Jones and Francis Ford Coppola! Keep in mind: a lot of these encounters just happened in the spur of the moment or as part of one of her jobs. It speaks a lot to getting yourself out there and making yourself available/accessible. Speaking of Director John Berry, he really kicks off a series of up-and-down romantic relationships/marriages that mark different eras in this book and Margie's life, almost like how the history of the world is basically divided into periods of war and peace. What was interesting to us is that, while there were times when Margie's husbands and partners like Berry were sometimes mean or belligerent, the author doesn't full-on demonize any of them. In fact, they all seem to have their reasons for acting and behaving the way that they do, and the author doesn't try to bury those things to make a stronger case for herself or to tell a black-and-white story. This shows a lot of empathy and emotional intelligence on the part of the author. She could've easily thrown them all under the bus and presented them like savage evil male misogynists, but she instead chose to present them as flawed humans battling their own personal demons the same as she was. Heck, she's quick to point out that she was battling a cocaine addiction during one of these relationships that she was quite ruthless when it came to one of her partners being overweight. In other words, she is willing to put her own complicity, occasional cruelty, and blind spots on the page too. That balance is a big part of what makes this memoir feel mature and emotionally honest rather than like a score-settling tell-all. Speaking of which, her father and mother are also noteworthy. Early moments with her father may be triggering in more ways than one, but they are honest and actually seem to reverberate throughout the book like a haunting echo. In fact, Margie even describes having a dream about her father after she has conflict with her then-husband. Likewise, her mother's battle with breast cancer is something that is fought in the background of much of this book, interestingly reverberating as Margie herself battles cancer much later. It's incredible that this is a true story because the literary parallelism is uncanny, but truth is often stranger and more fascinating than fiction. But one thing this book does well is reminding the reader (and perhaps the author herself) that, until your last breath, there are always new things to do and new things to try. Throughout the book, Margie learns multiple languages, is involved in the film industry (including founding MG Productions), is published over a thousand times in magazines and newspapers, learns to play the banjo (humorously playing so bad that squirrels would run away) and the harmonica, becomes a runner then a race-walker after being injured, climbs two of the world's tallest and most dangerous mountains including Everest itself, and even randomly does things like scuba diving. It's like this woman—despite having cancer and all of these turbulent events and trauma bearing down on her—won't be stopped! What a badass! Lastly, we also found it interesting how the author compares different people in her life (and herself) to different flowers, revealing yet another niche and random interest for floriography. She casts Granny Elsa as a lush, high maintenance hydrangea that thrives in rich soil, her elegant but thorny mother as a rose, and her disappointing father as a yellow carnation tied to rejection. One sister becomes invasive goutweed that crowds everything around it, another a bright lipstick plant that is beautiful and dramatic but not exactly sturdy. Margie frames her younger self as a cobra lily, a strange little carnivorous survivor in toxic soil, then later introduces figures like Brian the Sunflower and JR the Gardenia. These floral avatars pop up throughout the book and give the memoir a surprisingly gentle, fairy tale frame around some very dark experiences.They also add another layer of sophistication to it, making it quite poetic. Check it out on Amazon!  Score: 93/100 (9.3 out of 10)
A Tragedy of Riches is a fascinating family & relationship drama by Tony Cointreau! While a novel, it seems to be based on actual people and events, wrapped up as fiction to protect privacy. We'll preface this by saying: the following statement might sound negative, but there's a major upside to it. When we first read this book, we found ourselves a bit bored and underwhelmed. We were expecting something fiercer, faster-moving, more dramatic, and more intense. We kept asking ourselves: Is this supposed to be like one of those slice of life novels? When we first read this book, we found it a bit flat and kept wondering when something was going to happen—something exciting, interesting, or awe-inspiring. We have a character falling down some stairs and creating a medical emergency. We have the main character essentially being told that she's older now (at 37) and that her capacity and inherent value are diminishing by the day. We kept asking ourselves: Is THIS it? Is THIS the moment that changes everything? It was only on a second reading that we realized how subliminal and sophisticated this book is. This book is an example of how you don't need to be loud, obnoxious, and obvious in order to tuck some major messages and layered characters into your text. And tucked in between the covers of this book is a richly human text about exploitation—of someone who was used like a tool, a bargaining chip, or a golden goose—all while trying to maintain the outward appearance of beauty, happiness, opulence, and splendor. This is ultimately a book about how things aren't always as they seem (or how they appear), and that there's often something deeper, more complex, and more insidious beneath the surface. The novel follows Elena Manziano, a stunningly beautiful girl born to Italian immigrants in upstate New York. In fact, she is eventually named one of the top 10 most beautiful women in the world in the 1950s, alongside Elizabeth Taylor and Ava Gardner. This is something she and her family hinge their futures on. From birth, her mother Maria decides that Elena’s beauty is the family’s “ticket out” of poverty and obscurity, grooming her with ruthless focus to marry rich and move in powerful circles. Elena is adored, but also used. She learns early that her worth is measured in how men look at her and what doors that can open for the family. As a young woman, Elena leaves the small town for college in Florida. There she meets Bruce Osborne, a wealthy, seemingly ideal suitor whose life is secretly ruled by his possessive mother, Kay. Their marriage collapses under emotional abuse, gaslighting, and a deeply unhealthy, borderline incestuous bond between Bruce and Kay that Elena slowly uncovers. The marriage ends, but not before leaving Elena emotionally shattered and prematurely initiated into the darker side of “good families.” WARNING: SPOILERS AHEAD __________________________________________________ Back home, Elena gives birth to her daughter, Angelina, and rebuilds herself as a single mother. During a later move to Los Angeles, she sees a magazine photo of powerful Wall Street titan Philip Zimmerman and has a lightning-bolt intuition that she will marry him. When a mutual acquaintance eventually introduces them, that premonition comes true. She becomes Mrs. Zimmerman, catapulted into a life of Fifth Avenue apartments, Long Island estates, couture gowns, diamonds, and museum-quality art. The outer fairy tale has an inner cost. Philip is much older, emotionally controlling, and uses money, sex, and status as levers. Elena is increasingly kept “in her place” with pills, alcohol, and the constant reminder that everything her family enjoys comes from him. Her brothers Angelo and Carlo and their wives (warm, kind Lynn and cold, grasping Bea) are drawn into the orbit of Elena’s wealth, some out of love, others out of greed. Over time, Elena builds deep friendships that become her true emotional lifelines: the gay singer Jean-Paul and his partner Christopher, loyal staff like Nora and Lois, and of course her daughter Angelina and grandson Gregorio. These people see past the jewels to the vulnerable, funny, generous woman beneath. Jean-Paul is really one of the Best Supporting Character nominees to come out of this book. In midlife, Elena finds real romantic love with Lorenzo, a gentle, artistic antique dealer. Their hidden apartment on East 74th Street becomes a sanctuary where, for a few hours a day, she feels desired for herself, not as an ornament or status symbol. But their love is constrained by duty: Lorenzo has a severely disabled son; Elena has Philip and her mother. Their relationship is intense, genuine, and ultimately doomed, one of the deepest emotional threads in the book. The central turning point comes when Elena discovers Philip’s affair. In a panic after overhearing him declaring his passion for a younger woman on the phone, she rushes down a dark staircase, falls, and suffers a traumatic brain injury. Emergency surgery saves her life, but she is left with slurred speech and balance problems. Her mind is sharp, her pride intact, yet her body betrays her. She is determined to pretend she is “fine,” but the disability never fully improves. Shortly after, Philip himself suffers a stroke and lingers in a frail, dependent state. Lawyers, business associates, and hangers-on circle like vultures. Faithful caregivers are dismissed for being “too close” to him, as power struggles erupt over his person and his fortune. His eventual death is a national news event, but for Elena it is a strangely hollow loss: a man she loved in one way and resented in another, a partner who gave her everything and also trapped her. In a lot of ways, Philip is a secondary antagonist in this novel behind the Manzianos themselves. He represents the cold, institutional side of power and patriarchy: the belief that money, status, and a woman’s beauty are all assets to be acquired, displayed, and controlled. He is not a cartoon villain but a walking system, the embodiment of transactional marriage, old money entitlement, and the idea that providing material comfort entitles him to absolute authority over Elena’s body, time, relationships, and even her medical care. Widowhood does not bring freedom. It brings a slower, more insidious captivity. Carlo and Bea move in “to help,” gradually isolating Elena from the outside world. They fire loyal staff like Nora the long-time cook, under the guise of cost cutting, and terrorize the remaining maid with petty cruelty. They push Elena to live frugally in the midst of luxury while scheming to sell off art and siphon money from the Zimmerman trust into their own accounts. Elena, increasingly frail and wheelchair-bound after more falls and surgeries, refuses to complain. She clings to dignity, her friendships, and her love for Angelina and Gregorio, even as the apartment around her decays and her siblings live off her like parasites. When Carlo finally gets power of attorney, he and Bea escalate their theft and neglect, living in a fantasy that they are untouchable. We found a lot of the irony at this wheelchair-bound stage in Elena's life. Ironically, being handicapped is actually a liberating experience for her because it allows her to gain more agency and sovereignty from her controlling and manipulative family. Her aids naturally side with Elena and actually become like her own little military squad (figuratively), helping her and maneuvering around the crooked machinations of the Manzianos, whom the aids hate and mistrust (because of how they treat them and Elena). Ironically, Elena gains the strength to stand and lead at what should be a low point in her life. She is arguably never more powerful than at this point. And it's not because of her beauty and attractiveness, it's because she has "lost" a lot of her usefulness and marketability to the Manzianos and has also seen past their BS. WARNING: SPOILERS END __________________________________________________ So, ultimately, this is really a book about exploitation but also survival and mustering the strength and courage to stand up and escape it. It's a cautionary tale, but also an inspirational tale. Elena is an example of a victim but also a fighter and a survivor. Check it out on Amazon!  Score: 93+/100 (9.3+ out of 10)
Saturn O. Syres, the winner of our most recent Best Character Award, returns in this warm, topsy-turvy Christian romance! 5 Weeks of Saturn continues the story of Saturn O. Syres as she navigates her hectic life, advertising career, love, and Christian faith. The narrative of this book is somewhere between an episodic slice-of-life contemporary novel and a slow-burn romantic drama. There are times when it feels like—rather than running toward a particular objective or finish line—we're just spending time with Saturn, a remarkable, inspirational, creative, and compelling person. With that said, there are times when this book does seem a bit monotonous, mundane, and meandering. It's over 600 pages long, albeit very small pages. However, it does feel drawn out and aimless at times. Now, that's not to say that Saturn doesn't have goals. Believe it or not, she does. She wants to support her sister through her new pregnancy. She wants to help her client(s), impress her employers, and prove how phenomenal she is at her work. It's clearly something she finds fulfilling. To top it off, she clearly wants to be with Janus, her main love interest throughout the novel. That alone is enough to fill a book. The biggest issue with this book is the precedence that the previous book set, particularly with the relationship dynamic between the two sisters, Saturn and Venus. Venus was such a complicated and compelling character in 14 Hours of Saturn. There were times when she was arguably the main villain/antagonist of the novel. There were times when she was an antihero. You could really tell how heavily Venus overshadowed and weighed on Saturn. Her lingering influence was like a ball and chain around Saturn's leg. Venus was a character that the reader felt even when she wasn't on the page. She was impactful and fascinating. Venus is a shell of her former self in this book. She is almost unrecognizable as a character, for better or for worse. She's completely reformed—a happily married woman who lives on a farm and is expecting a baby. She's often self-sacrificing, generous, loving, and kind. Yes, Saturn occasionally notes how much Venus has changed (like when she sees the planet Venus in the telescope in a thinly-veiled metaphorical scene), but it seems to be missing weight—that unmistakable oomph she packed in book one. Venus just isn't Venus anymore. She's like a season 1 villain who has been neutered, nerfed and turned into a jobber by season 3. On one hand, it is encouraging to see a character like Venus grow and change. On the other hand, the cost of that growth is that she no longer feels like the chaotic, unpredictable force that dominated the first book. That's unfortunate. Shouldn't she still be battling demons and the shadows of her past? Where did this wholesome little angel come from? In contrast, Saturn still wrestles with guilt, shame, and self-doubt all the time. Outside of advertising (in which she's almost always the smartest person in the room) Saturn is constantly second-guessing her other decisions in life. Perhaps the struggle we noticed the most when it comes to Saturn is her conscience and faith warring with her sexual urges and attraction. Saturn isn't young anymore. She's a grown, sexual, and sexually-active being now. And it seems to weigh on her quite a bit. We noticed that her prayers tend to mention her sexual temptations and romantic relationship(s). This series is a bit more steamy than traditional Christian romances. This book isn't afraid to explore human nature in its entirety. And being sexual doesn't make Saturn a bad person or a bad Christian, it makes her human. Now, there was an aspect of Saturn & Janus's relationship that bothered us a little and might bother other traditional Christians: Saturn & Janus repeatedly say they're not exclusive. In other words, they're knowingly dating around while technically dating each other. While this might annoy purists who believe that when you love someone, they should be the only one you have eyes for, it does create some compelling dynamics including a bit of a love triangle/cube with Venus, Janus, Sunny, and Blake. You can throw Eliott, Chip Flanders, and Bruce in there as well. Also, where's Ted? Didn't they become friends again and have a nice reunion at the end of the previous book? Anyway, people are constantly flirting with Saturn, and she occasionally flirts back. So is life. Speaking of life, there's a particularly mundane scene that actually held a lot of meaning for us. It was when Saturn saw two guys fishing together on TV, looking happy and content as can be. It plays right up against her dancing with and even kissing Eliott, who had fished with her (on to of all the pseudo-romantic things they did). However, this little spot on TV (with the two fishermen) says a lot more about Saturn and her feelings. Saturn has achieved a lot in her life, especially when it comes to art, advertising, and reconciling with her sister, but there's still a longing in her heart. That resonated with us. Saturn continuing to be a cat owner (of Muffin) also resonated with us. Yes, the cat stuff is mundane like a lot of this book, but it also helps to ground Saturn and make her seem more realistic. Perhaps her most human moment in the previous book was just the weird yet relatable way she eats certain things. In this book, her most human moments are just trying to get some R & R with a feline in the house. She also keeps confiding in Chloe Summers, her college roommate and best friend from Ball State. This somewhat bugged us. Maybe it's a pet peeve, but... we never cared about Chloe. She has a whole section in this book in which she "arrives" and we received that with the enthusiasm of your in-laws moving in. Chloe comes across as this uber modest conservative Christian, which is probably a safe friend to have in real life, but she's just so... bland. Chloe does serve a purpose, however. Saturn's conversations with her do reveal how emotionally and spiritually torn she is about things like her jealousy over Sunny and Janus. You know who she reminded us of? She reminded us of the wife from Driving for Freedom, the one who keeps getting phone calls about feelings and issues the main character is having (as if we hadn't already noticed them). In that book, the main character could stub their toe, then call his wife like, "Wife, I stubbed my toe. It hurts." It's pretty clear what Saturn is wrestling with without Chloe having to intermediate. Anyway, we talked about Sunny, and she's a pretty major character in this. And by the way, can we just point out that these names are getting a bit comedic and unbelievable? We've got Janus Rings in here (you know, like the rings of Saturn?) and Sunny Knight (you know, like an oxymoronic sunny night?) Anyway, back to Sunny... Sunny Knight is almost the anti Chloe. Where Chloe is modest, quiet, and spiritually safe, Sunny is bright, bubbly, and just a little bit dangerous to Saturn's peace of mind. She is a fellow deacon at Oakfield Second Christian Church, and she clearly has history with Janus. Sunny is always there, always smiling, always sliding a little closer to him at meetings, touching his arm or shoulder, or hiding behind bylaws to keep Saturn in her place as a "non member." She is not a full blown villain, but she is a constant, nagging thorn in Saturn's side. Some of the most entertaining scenes in the book come from this tension. We see Sunny subtly try to push Saturn out of the Independence Day fair planning, only for Saturn's marketing and advertising expertise to win everyone over. Sunny tries to use church rules to silence her; Saturn ends up designing the whole promotional strategy for the event. Scenes like that let Saturn shine in her field while also keeping the relational drama simmering in the background. On the other side of the love geometry, we have Blake Boyd, the persistent almost boyfriend from Jack's Coffee and Pastry. Blake is a bit of a walking red flag in a flannel shirt. After a couple of dates and one kiss, he behaves as if they had some deep, committed relationship. He corners Saturn at the coffee shop, ignores her clear "no," and generally will not take a hint until the new owner finally bans him from the premises. Blake is annoying, but he is also oddly useful for the story, because his clinginess throws Saturn's more cautious, prayerful attitude into sharper relief. These two arguably serve as two of the major antagonists in the novel. Not in the moustache twirling villain sense, but in the everyday, relational sense. Sunny gets under Saturn’s skin by hovering around Janus and weaponizing church bylaws to keep her on the sidelines, while Blake chips away at Saturn’s peace of mind by refusing to respect her boundaries or take no for an answer. Together, they keep Saturn off balance, jealous, and constantly second guessing herself, which drives a surprising amount of the tension in a book that is otherwise pretty cozy and mundane on the surface. It's just... they're not as compelling as Venus was in the previous book as an antagonistic force. Sunny reminded us of the long-legged, bangs-having model from Confessions of a Shopaholic. Obscure reference, we know, but it's true. Ok, so there are a few more things we actually liked about this book. Arguably the highlight of this entire book is when Saturn gets to let loose and do her thing as an advertiser. She's spectacular! Having her on your advertising team is like having Nick Saban on your sideline. Saturn sees and notices things that no one else does. She sees and notices opportunities and angles that no one else does. She's a genius! And it's so cool to see her be so resourceful and show off her creativity and ingenuity. For one thing, her voice-over talent is able to bring the cats and human characters of various ages to life in her commercials. She can do it all! And yet... outside of advertising, she's this really vulnerable and bewildered person. Check it out on Amazon!  Score: 95/100 (9.5 out of 10)
This is such a warm, nerdy hug of a book! Fantastic!: A Celebration of Fans Discovering Doctor Who by Nicholas Seidler is a heartfelt anthology centered around the iconic British TV show Doctor Who, which has become a decades-long international sensation! This anthology includes over 100 Whovians (Doctor Who fans) and their personal experiences with the show. The single most remarkable aspect of this book is how it highlights how fandoms like Doctor Who can bridge gaps between people across nations, continents, languages, cultures, and whole generations! Some of our favorite stories from this book include parents and grandparents who were somewhat familiar with the show in the past, then heard the familiar theme song or saw a familiar Who-thing (like the TARDIS, Screwdriver, or checkered scarf) emerging from their child's television screen, phone, or laptop. It's like a blast from the past leaking into the present and the future! That really shows how this show crossed, survived, and transcended whole eras and generations since its debut on November 23, 1963. According to this book: "Doctor Who began as a black and white TV show, and by 1970 it made the jump to color. … The series eventually added stereo sound, broadcasted some episodes in 3-D, transitioned to widescreen format, welcomed high definition, added surround sound, and transitioned to ultra-high definition 4K." Essentially, this series survived the transition(s) from black & white all the way to 4K, enduring virtually every single change in digital media since the 60s! And it's not just eras and generations that this show has crossed, it has also bridged cultures and languages. You could even throw religious differences in there as well. One of the most fascinating examples of this global reach comes from contributor Umut Cevik, who shares a sweeping sixteen year journey of nurturing Doctor Who fandom in Turkey. His story charts the evolution of a community that began with scattered fans and unofficial translations, eventually growing into organized viewing parties, magazine features, university events, and the creation of Doctor Who Merkezi, Turkey’s dedicated fan hub. Umut’s passion didn’t just unite Turkish Whovians. It opened doors to collaborations with broadcasters, brought international guests to local events, and even changed the course of his own life. Through his work on TARDIS.wiki translation projects, he met the person who would later become his spouse! Today, he continues expanding the fandom and is even writing a book on the history of Doctor Who in Turkey. His contribution beautifully illustrates how one person’s dedication can ignite a regional fandom and how the Doctor’s adventures truly resonate across borders, languages, and entire cultures. You don't have to be British, white, Christian, secular, Muslim, or anything in particular to enjoy and appreciate Doctor Who. It is a show that can speak to everyone and anyone. Another touching story in this book is from a contributor who describes how Doctor Who became a shared ritual with their children, something that stitched their family closer together over the years. What began as casual viewing soon became a treasured tradition. They talked about episodes together, laughed at the same moments, swapped theories, and found that the show created a space where everyone felt connected. Those memories weren’t just about watching television; they were about building a little universe of their own, one where time travel, adventure, and imagination brought parent and children into the same emotional orbit. There are also some parts of this book that made us chuckle. Contributor Christopher Cebula described how he discovered Doctor Who while channel surfing with his mother. When they landed on a Tom Baker scene, his mom turned to him and said: “Chris this is stupid; I think you’ll like it!” Another thing we found interesting was how everyone had their own favorite Doctor, their own favorite season/era, and their own favorite episode (or best episode for newcomers to start with). We were surprised that Matt Smith and Tom Baker didn't completely dominate the favorite Doctor debates. Instead, the favorites were spread across nearly every incarnation, from the crisp charm of Peter Davison to the fierce intensity of Christopher Eccleston, the brooding brilliance of Peter Capaldi (a personal favorite of ours), and even the audio-driven legacy of Paul McGann. Heck, there were even contributors who loved Jodie Whittaker, the controversial Thirteenth Doctor. In fact, one of coolest parts of the book was hearing contributor Simorgh Jourabchi talk about how when she was growing up, she couldn't play the Doctor in roleplay games because "the Doctor always had to be a boy" and the companions were usually played by girls. So, seeing the Doctor finally be the same gender as her was very liberating. Something funny we remember was how one contributor talked about how they "Never forgave [Jon Pertwee (Third Doctor)] for regenerating into Tom Baker." That's hilarious, especially considering that Tom Baker is the quintessential Doctor in the minds of many. Shockingly, not everyone loved him! We didn’t particularly think Christopher Eccleston was that popular, but one contributor talked about being devastated when he regenerated. She had no idea what regeneration even was at the time, so she believed they had killed off her favorite character forever. When David Tennant appeared, her first reaction was pure outrage: “Who the hell is that? Where’s the Doctor? No! Bring the Doctor back!” It captures just how personal these transitions can feel. And that spoke to us. It can speak to many people. Change is hard Transitions are hard. Some of our favorite sports teams are losing beloved coaches and players and having to embrace new ones. Practically all of us have had breakups and losses in the past. Giving up a previously beloved and/or familiar Doctor is analogous to that. But, so is life. So is time. Time is always going, always moving. And we're always moving with it. And that brings up one final point which goes along with everything we've been talking about: the universality of Doctor Who, timeless nature, and the endless possibilities. When you have a time machine that can go anywhere at any time, the possibilities are endless! Check it out on Amazon! |
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