Editorial Reviews for Nominees
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 Score: 89/100 (8.9 out of 10)
A Tragedy of Riches by Tony Cointreau is a thought-provoking, scandal-heavy family saga about beauty, wealth, dependence, exploitation, and the way “gifts” can become traps. We had mixed opinions of the book itself, and we had very similar feelings about the book's trailer by the folks over at Story Monsters, namely co-producers Linda F. Radke & Zachary R. Simpson (who also directed it). Of all the magnificent, glowing, incredible things that the crew has made over the years—including songs, books, and trailers—this one seems to be among the simplest, plainest, and most straightforward. That's not necessarily a bad thing as it gets the point across and effectively promotes the book to an extent, but it just seems like many of the other book trailers out there. It doesn't quite hit, grip, or stand out as much as the book trailers for I Know What You Do When I Go to School by Siona Talekar and The Case of the Missing Pink Piggy by Linda Harkey. The trailer of I Know What You Do When I Go to School featured a Q&A with the inspirational young author as well as a look into her creative process with old drafts and glimpses at original artwork. The trailer for The Case of the Missing Pink Piggy features the colorful and marvelous illustrations and clips from the book by Mike Minick, accompanied by the brilliant narration of Immy Dymott, who beautifully voices over the trailer for the book. Even the trailers/short documentary for Hiding in Holland by Shulamit Reinharz provided a lot of background information from the author about the book. By comparison, there's none of that to be seen or experienced with the trailer for A Tragedy of Riches trailer. It lacks the oomph of those other trailers. At just over a minute, it's quite short. It provides an effective hook ("What happens when the world wants your beauty but not your heart?"). The trailer continues with: "Born with nothing. Pushed to become. EVERYTHING Manipulated by love BELOVE Yet ALONE" This does get the message across that this is a book about someone who came from nothing, then was manipulated and exploited as they became wealthier and more successful. How much better would this have been if this were narrated by the author or with a beautiful female voice (since the main character is female)? The music is also somewhat generic instrumental trailer music, compared to the crew's branded trailers which feature familiar, catchy tunes and original songs by composer Zachary Simpson. Our guess is that the song in this trailer is a stock song from some video editor. It just doesn't hit the same. The visuals are actually quite good. There's a shot of the outside of an old big city apartment to show the protagonist's humble roots, that is then juxtaposed with an image of a mansion and expensive vehicles. We will say that the first image with the woman staring outside the window is quite dark and the setting is unclear. We're not sure if this is a theater or a dining room or something else. There are what appear to be chairs on the left, but they're arranged facing forward like at a speaking event rather than around a table like at a dinner. And there are spherical objects clustered on the right which could be balloons but could be yoga balls, it's so dark that it's hard to tell. A diamond and jewels pop up throughout the trailer, representing the vanity and artificial wealth of the antagonists as they exploit the protagonist, their cash cow. The trailer also does something great in highlighting that Cointreau is an acclaimed and award-winning author. Having read three of his books, he deserves that clout and those kudos. It also features a positive quote by a fellow author, Cynthia Kern O'Brien, about the book. But blink and you'll miss it. We hardly noticed it until we watched this about ten times. With all that said, this trailer gets the job done. Honestly, we've been noticing a lot of video ads at the bottom of Amazon product pages that are of similar quality and essentially flow the same way. So, this is par for the course. Check out the book on Amazon!
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 Paperback Score: 95+/100 (9.5+ out of 10)
Audiobook Score: 95+/100 (9.5+ out of 10) Studio Story Monster & narrator Stewart Joiner Davis bring one of the most heart wrenching and emotionally-charged books of the past year to life in this magnificent audiobook! One of the great things about literature is in presenting characters and scenarios that readers can see themselves in. It allows a spotlight to be shone on the things we don't usually address and/or talk about—the elephants in the room, the unspoken and often-uncomfortable truths. This book shines a spotlight and gives a voice to people who don't usually get it: the families and, specifically, the siblings of those battling a life-altering diagnosis like cancer. It acknowledges these individuals and their unique struggles, feelings, and experiences, which so often get overshadowed and unrecognized. Jamie’s Journey: Cancer from the Voice of a Sibling is a gentle, heartfelt story about pediatric cancer as seen through the eyes of the healthy sibling. It follows thirteen-year-old Jamie after her ten-year-old sister, Jordan, is diagnosed with a brain tumor and begins surgery, chemotherapy, hospital stays, and outpatient treatments. We move with Jamie from “life was normal” to the moment everything changes. There are sleepovers, shopping trips, softball practices, and dance lessons one minute, then headaches, scans, hospital rooms, machines, “pokes,” chemo, waiting areas, fear, and exhaustion the next. Cancer barges into the family like an unwelcome storm cloud and suddenly every routine, every relationship, and every emotion gets rearranged. This book gives permission for the physically healthy sibling to feel everything: worry, relief, curiosity, anger, pride, inspiration, guilt, jealousy, selfishness, loneliness, and love. Jamie misses activities, feels forgotten by her parents, resents the attention Jordan receives, and then feels guilty for having those thoughts. That honesty is the book’s emotional core. It does not shame Jamie for her “ugly” feelings. Instead, it shows that those feelings are normal when cancer turns the whole family upside down. Where this book really shines is in how unapologetically it names the “unacceptable” emotions that siblings are often ashamed to admit. Jamie resents missing softball and dance. She notices that Jordan gets the attention, the presents, the sympathy, the toys, and the family’s time. She misses date nights with her dad and shopping trips with her mom. She wonders if she even matters anymore. And the book does not scold her for it. That is huge. Instead, Jamie’s Journey makes it clear that these reactions do not make Jamie a bad kid, an evil person, or an unloving sister. They make her human. Cancer does not only attack the patient. It hits the whole family. It bends routines, drains parents, changes relationships, steals normalcy, and leaves siblings trying to be “strong” while their own hearts are quietly breaking. The story becomes especially moving when Jamie’s parents finally sit with her and reassure her that she is still loved and valued, and later when Jordan tells Jamie that Jamie is her hero. That moment brings the book full circle. Jamie is not just the “other child” in the family. She is also carrying part of the journey. She is scared, confused, and hurting, but she is also brave, loving, and deeply important. Can you imagine being a child in a similar situation as Jaimie? Now you have a book that acknowledges, validates, and helps you work through your feelings and experience. Sharon Wozny is able to draw on years of experience working with cancer patients and their families through the Children’s Cancer Network, and that authenticity shows. There is a genuine understanding here of how pediatric cancer can make healthy siblings feel invisible. Jamie is not being dramatic. She is grieving the life her family used to have. Melissa Bailey’s illustrations (in the paperback version) are a major part of why those emotions land. The artwork has a soft, hand-drawn pencil style with selective color that feels intimate and personal, almost like sketches from a family’s own journal. Jamie’s face does a lot of heavy lifting: the worry in the hospital room, the tight anger in the waiting area, the hollow sadness of sitting alone in a corner, the quiet pride as she hugs her bald little sister, and the stunned tenderness when Jordan calls her a hero. But what we really want to focus on for the rest of the review is the audiobook version and the extraordinary narration by the phenomenal young narrator Stewart Joiner Davis! First of all, can we say how well-produced the whole Studio Story Monster catalog of audiobooks is? We're constantly impressed. Each of these audiobooks opens and ends with the familiar Story Monsters jingle, which is actually really nice and welcoming. It gets you in the mood to hear something sweet and comforting. They also begin with the young, talented narrator explaining to you how this read-along experience will work, encouraging you to follow along with your version of the book (paperback, hardcopy, ebook, etc.). Something else we think we forgot to mention in the past—but is super cool and useful—is the page-turning sound that prompts readers to turn to the next page. That's actually helpful! Anyway, Stewart Joiner Davis is a gem and a joy to listen to. We remember him from his performance in the Chatty the Hen Pheasant and The Great Animal Escape audiobooks, which he also knocked out of the park! He reads this book very cleanly, calmly, and at a really good pace. This pacing is important because it allows the young readers to follow what's happening while also not getting impatient and losing focus. Ten minutes is a perfect time for an audiobook like this, and Davis nails it. Nothing seems rushed or drawn out. It's just right. Check it out here!  Score: 96/100 (9.6 out of 10)
The Golden Blueprint by Mark Parrish is one of our favorite books of the year so far! And it sure is timely. We often feel the way the book describes: like our best days are behind us, like we've lost what made us great, and that all that awaits us in the future are challenges and setbacks. This book is here to remind us that nothing could be further from the truth. We are reminded that the future, while full of challenges and difficulties, is also full of opportunities for growth, success, happiness, fulfillment, and joy. This book argues that one person in a family line can change everything by becoming intentional about vision, discipline, culture, and legacy. Parrish calls that person “the chosen one,” meaning the one willing to break cycles, build something lasting, and create a life that future generations can benefit from. His central leadership formula keeps resurfacing in different forms: say no to distractions, invest in people, lead by example, build strong systems, and think in generations instead of quick wins. In a world of social media, instant gratification, and a rush to be noticed and get rich quick, this message is extremely important. The author uses the analogy of wells, which often take long to build/dig and often aren't built/dug by one person or even in one generation. Sometimes, we figuratively dig wells for water that future generations can drink from and enjoy: our children and grandchildren. Our legacy. Similarly, the author uses the analogy of the olive tree, which often takes many years to bear fruit. We don't need everything now. Great things take time. They compound. They build on each other. This book is extremely encouraging, uplifting, inspirational, and motivational without being excessively idealistic and unrealistic. It is actually very grounded, practical, and applicable, which we greatly appreciated. One aspect of this book that we absolutely loved was how it doesn't play into a victim mindset. It doesn't blame priviledge (or lack thereof). It doesn't blame race or color or ethnicity or nationality for challenges and setbacks. We've seen that in so many self-help and business books recently. How is that helpful? Instead, the author propogates the idea that we all have CHOICES and OPPORTUNITIES. They might not be exactly the same. They might not be exactly equal. But we all have them. And we can all make the best of them. Mark Parrish is a fascinating man who has walked the talk. He is now the owner of at least 19 McDonald's locations with over 5,000 employees! But he did his time serving in the military and working under his father including on a farm and in a McDonald's. All of this was challenging, but it provided compounding opportunities for growth, learning, self-improvement, and advancement. They taught him things like discipline, responsibility, accountability, the importance of clarity in vision/reason/purpose, and developing/holding to a code of honor. By the way, it is kinda funny that his drill sergeant kept calling him "Brigham" because he was from Utah (where Brigham Young brought the LDS Church). Anyway... Parrish repeatedly gives examples of how excuses and a victim mindset only hold us back and hold us down without solving the problem or advancing us. For example, he helped his teenage daughter—an eventual National Champion in soccer—to understand that there were things she could do to improve her performance and standing on the team such as practicing an hour longer than everyone else. The author reminds us that there's always something we can do to improve ourselves and our situations instead of blaming the world, the referees, our coaches, our employers, our spouses, etc. We can always ask ourselves: what can I do to make my situation better? His father, by the way, was not handed an easy life either, and serves as a paramount example. Parrish explains that his dad came from extremely humble beginnings, born to a 15 year old who was ill-prepared to raise and take care of him. He grew up doing hard farm work from childhood. That helps explain both his grit and some of the worldview that shaped Mark himself. That matters because one of the strongest points in this book is that it does not come from some detached ivory tower. It comes from people who had to work, sacrifice, adapt, and build. Parrish uses that background to make one of the book’s boldest arguments: life is not equal, but that does not remove our responsibility to act with urgency, discipline, courage, and vision. That is a hard message for some people to hear, but honestly, it is also a refreshing one. This book just hits something deep down inside. It hits home. No, it's not just because the author attended college here in Utah. It's that he draws from personal experiences from his military, business, and family lives. He presents these really practical, easily-appliable ideas like having rule lists for your household to refer to and follow, writing goals down, being clear about your vision and direction. This sounds like common sense, but common sense isn't so common. We were also impressed by some of the powerful passages, quotes, and lessons in this book. These aren't just full of buzz words/terms and flowery language. They pack a punch and are easy to understand and apply to one's life and/or situation: "When you live by your own values consistently, quietly, and without applause, you don’t just earn success. You become the kind of person success is drawn to." “An individual who has vision will create a life of purpose and meaning designed around that vision.” “The answer informs who they are, what they dream about, and their level of courage.” “People don’t buy what you do; they buy why you do it.” “To say life is equal would be like saying we all start running the same distance from the finish line, travel the same path, and reach the destination in the same amount of time. That’s just not reality. Some of us move fast, others slow. Some fly; others drive. Some take the long way, others find shortcuts. Some mosey through, enjoying the scenery, while others walk with urgency.” "My military experience taught me that fairness doesn’t equal everyone getting the same treatment. It’s about being given opportunities to rise and then being expected to rise. Fairness is found in expectations that stretch us. The people who hold us to higher standards are often the ones who change our lives. " “Fairness means that, while our paths may start differently, each of us is given opportunities to choose, grow, and change.” “The fairness comes in the form of choice. Everybody gets the same opportunity based on who they are that day, who they decide to be, what type of effort they want to put in. Do they want to be obedient? Do they want to be friendly? Do they want to have a positive mindset? Everybody gets the choice of who they want to be...It’s about being given opportunities to rise and then being expected to rise.” “Clarity creates accountability.” (Like with the household rules, code of honor in the military, and mission statement in business) “Without reinvention, you end up living the same year on repeat. Same excuses. Same regrets. Same ceiling... Here are some signs it might be time to reinvent yourself. You’re living more in your past than your future. You’ve stopped being challenged by your daily life. Your excuses sound louder than your possibilities. You keep hitting the same wall in family, business, or personal growth. You feel stuck, like you’re coasting without any upward momentum.” (Reminded us of Uncle Rico!) "...complacency erodes connection. When you stop being intentional, relationships start to drift. They never remain in a neutral state for very long. Complacency leads to partners growing apart, parents losing emotional connection with kids, and routines replacing real communication. People assume family ties are unbreakable, but love, respect, and trust must be nurtured. Complacency makes you ignore the daily maintenance strong families need.” Despite being focused and serious, this book isn't absent of humor. The author is very personable and actually uses humor sparingly and effectively, like when he shares the cringeworthy "Lose Yourself" parody jingle he used for a McDonald's advertisement, saying, "Want to hear the lyrics? Of course you do!" Check it out on Amazon!  Score: 91+/100 (9.1+ out of 10)
Imagine a world where the people you are supposed to trust the most, the people closest to you are actually the ones actively trying to destroy you. It is a terrifying thought! Set primarily in rural Maine during the 1990s, Clear Cuts by Joshua S. Narins is a dark, bitter family novel that concerns themes of power, resentment, inheritance, betrayal, childhood trauma, and moral choice The book splits attention between three lives: Jack Dougherty, a slick, ruthless Wall Street success; Michael Dougherty, his younger brother, an idealistic college professor who teaches ethics and responsibility; and Jacqueline, Michael’s angry, trapped, hard-bitten wife, who has spent much of her life staring out at the woods wanting something more. From there, the novel builds around the death of family patriarch George Dougherty and the ugly battle over the Eire Upland Game Lodge, the family property in northern Maine. Jack inherits the business and land, while Michael is humiliatingly left almost nothing except a few symbolic items and an “empty” wheelchair, which tells you almost everything you need to know about how poisonous this family history is. From there, things keep rotting. Jack has a long history of domination, manipulation, and swagger. Jacqueline is drawn to him, or maybe drawn to the fantasy of escape he represents, and the affair between them becomes one of the book’s ugliest engines. Michael, meanwhile, is not a fool, but he is painfully slow to act, and that gap between what he knows, what he suspects, and what he can bear becomes central to the novel. The property angle adds another nasty layer: Jack arranges the sale of the Eire to Pulp International in a way that appears designed to prevent the lodge from receiving historic protection that could have preserved it. So the family betrayal is not just emotional. It becomes material, legal, and environmental too. This is a dense book while also sometimes being rather mundane at times. You might occasionally ask yourself: Why are these people just randomly talking about history and slice of life stuff? Why is Jacqueline constantly swearing, cussing, and cursing her head off (it can seem excessive after a while, like a defiance of the economy of language). Why are these two characters screwing each other in the least sexual way possible in middle of cleaning a restroom? How is that pleasurable or enjoyable for them? Things like that can tend to make these characters and the book's framing seem a bit alien and weird. However, there's a reason for everything. First of all, we're not dealing with average, normal people. We're dealing with predators, backstabbers, and characters gripped by decades of trauma and animosity (among other things). Jacqueline is almost cartoonishly foul mouthed because of how embittered she is--how much she hates her life and Michael. She and Jack have their disturbing sexual encounter and enjoy it (sorta) because they're two peas in a pod: two corrupt, bitter, frustrated, manipulative, and—dare we say—evil people. Even this intimate interaction seems mechanical and transactional because these two people have pretty much lost their conscience and souls. There's a part of us that wishes their names weren't so close together because reading them side-by-side can get a bit confusing. It seems like you've pretty much got two Jacks, a male and a female one working together on the same conspiracy. That might sound weird, but that's how the human brain is wired. Anyway, we brought up the seeming randomness of some scenes and dialogue. For example, Michael, a professor, gives seemingly random lectures on historical events like World War II or on things like the Art of War by Sun Tzu. However, these lectures aren't so random after all. There's an irony to them. While he's talking about knowing your enemy and knowing yourself, his enemies are actively plotting against him and he seems mostly unaware for much of the book. He also talks about the Pearl Harbor attack and Admiral Yamamoto giving his famous "awoken a sleeping giant" quote. Well, you could argue that Michael is the sleeping giant in this scenario. You could also argue that Pearl Harbor was the world's most infamous sneak attack, and Michael is becoming a victim of a sneak attack. At the same time... this is the third book we've read in a month which talks about Pearl Harbor. It seems overdone. Like, is there any variety? Everyone immediately goes to Pearl Harbor in their books. Everyone wants to compare everything to Pearl Harbor. Anyway, the book also explores how the destructive relationship dynamic was built up between Michael and Jack since childhood. George Dougherty did not exactly raise these boys in a healthy or loving environment. He raised them in a brutal, hard-edged, dominance-based world where weakness was punished and cruelty could fester. That matters. A lot. Jack does not just wake up one day as a monster in a Rolex. Michael does not just wake up one day as a man who quietly absorbs abuse from all sides. These people were shaped. Distorted. Conditioned. There's a really disturbing kicking scene that demonstrates this well. That is one of the strongest things about Clear Cuts. It understands that adult betrayal usually has roots. Old roots. Deep roots. Family roots. And boy, does this family have roots rotting underground. Check it out on Amazon!  Score: 91+/100 (9.1+ out of 10)
Ok, so this is a rather interesting book for several reasons (we'll get to later). With that said, it's a mixed bag that we have a lot of mixed opinions about. In In the Ghost’s Shadow, Mason “Brick” Redstone starts as a college senior hiding extraordinary powers, fresh grief from a deadly mission, and a dangerous “dark seed” awakened by rage. He is still deeply hung up on Tish, the brilliant, intimidating classmate who has treated him badly for years, but a sudden class project throws them together and turns the opening into a volatile enemies-to-lovers setup with a lot of emotional charge. Very quickly, though, the book widens into something much bigger than campus romance, tying Brick to genetic experimentation, secret enemies, and a family war that has been brewing for years. It should come as no surprise that Brick is the titular "Ghost Shadow." He is a cybernetically gifted/cursed being who is uniquely able to access the Akashic Field, which is compared to the Force in Star Wars. The Akashic Field allows for the manipulation of sub-atomic particles and, ultimately, reality itself. So, Brick has enormous power and potential. That's cool and interesting. The central relationship is Brick and Tish, but the novel’s major twist is that Professor Sandra Brennan is secretly involved too, and she is working with her scarred twin, Zindriya. Sandra wants Brick romantically and intellectually, while Zindriya wants access to his mind, his inventions, and his potential ability to tap the Akashic Field, which the book frames as a reality-shaping force beyond ordinary physics. That betrayal pushes the story out of flirtation and into kidnapping, captivity, and a much darker power struggle. From there, the book becomes a rescue story, a corruption arc, and a transformation story all at once. Tish changes the most. Once she realizes how deep the conspiracy goes, she stops being just the sharp-tongued love interest and becomes a full force in the narrative, especially after surviving an explosion unharmed and realizing Brick has altered her in ways she barely understands. At the same time, Brick’s captivity and torture fracture him psychologically, and the novel leans hard into the idea that survival can turn love, identity, and power into something unstable and dangerous. There's a lot of great stuff in here: serious, gritty stuff. And the romance angle works too (at times, not all the time). At the same time, this book has a really strange comedic/humorous vibe to it. Characters are constantly joking and making what we'd call anachronisms. They're constantly talking about or referencing things like Star Wars (they try to quote Yoda), Little Shop of Horrors, Bizarro-Superman, Deadpool, and more. The book has this pulpy, chatty, pop-culture-aware rhythm where even serious characters are constantly tossing out quips, snark, analogies, and little references. Sometimes that works. Sometimes it absolutely does not. There were moments where we genuinely enjoyed the banter and thought it gave the book personality, especially in the early Brick and Tish material, where the flirtation, sarcasm, and weirdness help distinguish their chemistry from a more generic paranormal romance. The “After-Tish Anonymous” joke, the “or something” callback, and the campus legend of “The Rink” all help establish that this book has a playful streak underneath the pain and violence. There's a scene in which Brick meets the parents like a Adam Sandler movie. Here's the thing: this is also a book with torture, kidnapping, betrayal, genetic experimentation, psychological fracture, and reality-warping stakes. So when the dialogue keeps winking at us, joking around, or sounding like people from our exact pop-culture moment trapped inside a heightened sci-fi/fantasy melodrama, it can create tonal whiplash. We kept going back and forth on that. There were times we thought, “Ok, this is kind of charmingly campy,” and other times we thought, “Should this really be this playful right now?” That tonal inconsistency is one of the biggest reasons this book landed in the low 90s for us instead of higher. There's a lot of cognitive dissonance. You'd think that Brick and co would be in the middle of a lot of violence, action, and tense stuff (and they kinda are, it just doesn't always come across that way). Brick is essentially Corren/Psyche from A Fragment of Chrome by Miikka Rautioaho, a cybernetically-enhanced human + having some of Elyon's powers from The Saxen Saga. But Corren was a mercenary who was constantly fighting for his life and his mission. Elyon was a living superweapon who was incredibly charismatic and lovable. In contrast, Brick is presented as some guy with unique augmentations and powers yet who doesn't quite know his purpose, which is fine for the first novel in a larger series, but does kinda leave the reader wanting more. But the biggest cognitive dissonance we get from this book is the attention to the raunchy sex stuff. Yes, sex in a work of fiction can demonstrate trust and a strong bond between characters. The thing is, the sex stuff seems almost comical, silly, and ridiculous. Probably the wildest material is with Zindriya. The narration describes sex with her as being like sex with a bobcat while riding a rollercoaster, then revises it to being like intercourse with a Klingon woman, with porn, WWE, and UFC all wrapped up in the same bundle. That is not subtle, and honestly it is one of the strongest examples of the book sounding unintentionally funny in its erotic writing. She's described as "having sex all night long." There's a description of a female character (Korolev's wife) having three orgasms in a row. There are descriptions of characters "going at it all night." There are other weird things that aren't overtly sexual, but are simply strange and unnecessary, like a character saying, "I gotta go tinkle." First of all, this is something a 3 year old would say, not a college senior. Second of all, when the heck is this book supposed to take place? We have this cybernetic technology and futuristic quantum mechanics involving the Akashic Field, yet these characters are screwing around talking about Little Shop of Horrors and seemingly using 21st century technology. Lots of cognitive dissonance. Perhaps that's the point, but things like this really got us out of the zone. It made it hard to take the narrative seriously, even when serious stuff was supposedly happening. Maybe that's just us. This book is a part of a larger series, and perhaps it's setting up for bigger and better things. It features a relationship with solid chemistry and a character with tons of power and potential. Check it out on Amazon!  Score: 93+/100 (9.3+ out of 10)
Tailless Trials: Sammy’s Voyage to a New Home follows Sammy, a special-needs cat with no tail and unusually long back legs. Based on a true story, Sammy begins life on a reservation in the deserts of the American Southwest, where his differences set him apart from his siblings and make him feel unwanted. One day, he is taken away in a truck and brought to an animal shelter, where he becomes frightened, confused, and worried that he has been abandoned. The illustrations really capture Sammy's expressions of terror and uncertainty. The scene in which he's put in a cage for the first time is especially unsettling. It's hard not to feel for Sammy as he endures these circumstances. Sammy meets Tangerine, a kind rescuer who takes him on a long journey with other animals (many of them quite exotic like an elephant and giraffe). Their voyage becomes a colorful cross-country adventure through the Grand Canyon, White Sands, Oklahoma prairies, ghost towns, lively towns, crowded city streets, and finally to a green farm. There, Sammy discovers that he has not been discarded. He has been rescued. He joins a new family of animals who are also different, also displaced, and also looking for safety. By the end, Sammy finds space to stretch his long legs, accepts his role as a barn cat, and finally feels at home. Their voyage actually reminded us a lot of Never's journey in The Original Human Beings, which is the story of an immigrant. Sammy is a bit of an immigrant too, in a sense, and an orphan. He has been rescued and given a much happier new life full of hope, love, and kindness like Chrissy from Finding Chrissy by Crystal Hoban, Lucky from Lucky's Adventure by Elizabeth Macy, and Abbey Rose from Puppy Comes Home by Diane Capogna. Sammy having a different physiology also reminded us of Ruby, the cat from Angeli Fitch's children's books. If you love books like this in which a lovely animal is discovered and given a home, you might really love this book. The illustrations by Chase Americana are stylish, unique, and above-average, we'd say. The backgrounds and scenery are especially nice. We also talked about how expressive the characters are. With that said, we did kinda wonder why on earth Tangerine is blue and ends up looking like Mystique from X-Men. Maybe it's to help her stand out? Or maybe it's to show her as representing all of us, like being a being made of water, which is the basis of all life? Also, why on earth is Tangerine traveling in a vehicle with a giraffe, an elephant, ostrich, zebra, and other exotic animals? Is that legal? Is she like a human horder or something? Is it legal to own these kinds of animals? She brings them all to a farm with camels, rabbits, pigs, raccoons, alligators, llamas, and stuff. Like, they all coexist and don't trample and eat each other? They don't smell? How can she afford this? Is she a millionaire? Also, Tangerine is depicted like a giant on page 15. She's bigger than the camel or the elephant and taller than the giraffe! What's going on? Well, it is kinda cute and cool to see the elephant and giraffe doing yoga stretches. And who doesn't dream about hanging out or living with a bunch of cute, cuddly, incredible animals? One major strength of this book is the simplicity of the language and writing. It's really easy to read and get through, especially with children. Check it out here!  Paperback Score: 93/100 (9.3 out of 10)
Audiobook Score: 94+/100 (9.4+ out of 10) They labeled her "Basura" (Spanish for "Trash") but she would scratch and claw her way past that label, becoming a renown musician, track athlete, and a beacon of hope for all children suffering in extreme poverty around the world. She gave herself a new name: Never, because she would never go back to that hellish state of being treated as less-than-human again. The Original Human Beings by Dr. Timothy D. White is an ambitious, human, emotionally-charged, dream-like, and—at-times—humorous book/audiobook. It appears to be a fictional memoir inspired by real life stories of immigrants and native peoples blended with the author's own surreal dreams and research/anecdotes on near-death experiences. Indeed, there are a lot of aspects and moments in this book that seem surreal or even absurd to a comedic or comical degree. We'll get to that later. This book follows Never Morales Santos, who was labeled "Basura" at a young age as she lived in "Garbage Mountain" in the middle of the infamous Tegucigalpa City Dump in Honduras, a 50-acre, gang-controlled area which is scavenged by hundreds of people, including children, daily. Never is a target for predators and coyotes involved in human trafficking. She is a gifted musician, specifically a celloist, and brings both the rich and poor to their feet in applause with her playing of Ava Maria. We follow Never as she meets all sorts of colorful and interesting characters like Looking Glass, Ephraim, Joey, Jackson and Gomez, encounters the titular tribe of the Original Humans (Nimiipuu / Nez Perce), faces off against a bear who acts like a beast straight out of mythology (i.e. a dragon), and attempts to make a living in America, being a musician and a track star (at a time when female athletes and minorities were held back). All of this is in a quest for humanity, rising above being labeled as trash, on the path to a Carnegie Hall performance in front of the Beatles and her childhood hero. Seriously! Oh, and by the way, some of the world's most dangerous gangsters and an evil general named Mendoza are after her. This sorta reminded us of those abstract yet visually captivating, often-beautiful, and sometimes disturbing Chicano wall arts you'd find in places like San Diego or Miami—you know the kind of art in which a bunch of people dressed like Mayans or Aztecs are just crawling on top of each other using a totem pole as a ladder, all while a bird and a snake look on with coffins and graves lying there, a Latina woman is holding a baby for some reason, and Jesus is also standing in the corner for some reason? That kind of art? That's what this book feels like. This book kinda reflects that dream-like randomness and surrealism that you think could only spring from either hallucinogens or a very vivid imagination, for better or for worse. This book is a very mixed bag, sorta like how we feel about Danny and the Whale by Wayne Mahon, another fictional memoir with interesting characters and humor but that just seemed to drag on and meander in a way that felt fragmented and fractured like shattered glass. On one hand, The Original Human Beings is clearly written by a very imaginative, passionate, and brilliant man in Dr. Timothy D. White, a man with a bunch of degrees, a doctorate education, and 40+ years as a lead pastor in Redmond, Washington. So, he's incredibly educated, experienced, and passionate. That shows. It's also beautifully and passionately narrated by Mexican actress and director Yareli Arizmendi, who clearly put a lot into this—a lot of heart, soul, and moxy. She brings this tremor in her voice and accents which match key sequences. On the other hand, it seems needlessly dense and, as we alluded to before, meandering and unfocused. You'd think this book would be focused on Never's career as a musician as she climbs her way out of poverty, and it kinda is, yet Never is hardly the focus of what is arguably the book's centerpiece: the battle with the bear, which focuses a lot more on the bear itself and all the other characters trying to overcome/survive it. In fact, we hardly remember what Never did through the whole bear battle. We remember what everyone else did. The main villains, El Cadejo, Mendoza, La Cosa Nostra, etc., practically vanish from the whole middle portion of the book. They're there in the beginning, then are back in the end, but seem to be quietly swept under the rug anyway, overshadowed by Never's Carnegie Hall performance. You could argue that their influence is felt throughout the book, and you'd be right, but it's easy to forget that since it doesn't seem like the events of this book flow naturally. Instead, they seem to skip around, becoming disjointed. Thing A happens, then Thing D happens, then Thing B happens. It's never A, B, C, D. It often seems like parts of this book were written at entirely different times by different people. Look at the example of Loco Lucy. She's there in the beginning, then shows up in the last quarter. And, yeah, it's nice to have some continuity, but... something just feels wrong. Even Looking Glass, who is arguably the deuteragonist of the novel and main love interest, gets snuck back into the last third of the novel as a track star and marginalized football player, held back because of being a person of color (Native American). Like, he starts winning a bunch of races, having all this success. Never should recognize him, he has his dog (Yaka) who survived all this crap with her and helped them battle the bear, but it's almost like she's meeting a new character entirely. He even has to remind her, "Do you remember me?" Weird! And the whole tone of this book changes at that point. It goes from being this paranormal action-adventure novel to being more like a teenage sitcom. There are times in this book that seem like a romance, particularly about 3/5ths in with the Looking Glass stuff. But then it starts focusing on the racing like it's a sports novel all of a sudden. There are times in this book that seem like action-adventure, particularly in the middle chapters as the characters try to survive the wilderness around the Wallowa Mountains / Wallowa Lake. There are other times in this book that seem like it's going for some kind of paranormal/supernatural angle with the resurrection/false death and allusion to Hades/Sheol/the afterlife. In fact, this book is somehow listed as magical realism. Gee wiz, pick a lane. There are other times this becomes like a crime drama, then seems to forget that. Then it becomes like a coming-of-age story, which does—admittedly—carry through 'til the end. It almost seems like this book is schizophrenic and doesn't know what it wants to be or what personality it's adopting today. With all that said, let's finally get into the specifics. __________________________________________ WARNING: Potential Spoilers Ahead __________________________________________ Ok, so one thing we have to get out of the way is how this book is both intentionally and unintentionally funny. It's kinda a comedy, while still tackling a lot of serious issues like the exploitation of children and the poor, extreme poverty, immigration, racism, prejudice, sexism, and more. Again, it's actually a bit like Danny and the Whale in that sense. It can still be self-aware and funny while approaching serious topics. The author is not shy about this book having comedic elements. In fact, he seems to have been inspired by Don Quixote and Candide. We can see the similarities. Never gets a cute donkey she names Heehaw, who carries her precious cello on their journey, for example. There's also a lot of absurdity and goofiness. Where do we even begin? How about the early moment when General Mendoza taunts the supposedly-dead 79-year-old Never/Basura. You can tell that—in Mendoza's mind—the things he's saying are supposed to sound threatening, insulting, despicable, and evil, but they sound so... stupid. He says things like, "They call you Basura because I manipulated them!" and "Your daughter is the vilest creature ever born from trash" then starts gagging and spitting like some weird drug addict who forgot his Narcan. He even claims to have some exotic condition called hyperosmia which supposedly gives him a heightened sense of smell so he can detect people who smell like putrid trash. That is the most BS, bogus manufactured load of crap. Mendoza isn't being menacing, he's doing the equivalent of making a Yo Mama joke without knowing how to make a Yo Mama joke. Oh, and Never isn't actually dead. She resurrects! Or something. Some parlor trick or magic or... something to fool Mendoza. This is so weird! Ok, let's skip ahead to the centerpiece of the novel: the battle with the bear. This battle is supposed to be epic, it's supposed to be tense, it's supposed to be suspenseful, but it's so... funny and weird! First of all, this bear battle is frickin' LOOOOOONG! We're talking Goku .vs. Frieza on Planet Namek long! And it's actually pretty ridiculous. Yes, we know that bears sometimes hunt humans if they're extremely hungry. We know this is supposed to be symbolic because it's supposed to match the Nimiipuu creation myth about humans being freed from a monster by coyote, the ancestor to the Nimiipuu (or something like that)--so it's fitting that the Nimiipuu are helping the migrants to survive an actual physical monstrous beast in the form of the bear. We also know you can't outrun a bear if it's chasing you at full speed, but... is it though? The human characters waste SO MUCH time during this battle. They even have time to philosophize, crack jokes, and READ A BOOK! What the... F.... Ok, that's some Don Quixote for you. But let's break it down. So, instead of just hiding or sneaking away from the bear: 1. Gomez has time to break down his entire tragic life story of being a murderer involved in torture and genocide, having broken all ten commandments. He gives this epic speech before his last stand. Oh, and by the way, Gomez is 7 feet tall and covered in the most disturbing tattoos imaginable including 666 and Swastikas, yet still manages to supposedly become a police chief, then an assistant pastor (who swears during sermons), so there's that. That's a whole lot of absurdity. Oh, and doesn't he date some woman who thinks she's a witch-vampire? There's that. Gomez gives this speech about being a Gypsy and Norse, saying he's descended from Vikings and describing the history of the Berserkers and their last stands. The problem with this is, the brothers decide to fight alongside him, which is kinda weird cause the whole point of Gomez trying to sacrifice himself was to serve as the rear-guard so everyone could escape and survive. So now two of the people he was trying to save are gonna make accomplishing that harder? Ok... 2. The sheriff and deputy supposedly come to the rescue with with horses and guns, yet are completely ineffectual to a comedic degree. They essentially get taken out by their own frightened horses like they're Wile-E-Coyote and Elmer Fudd. Their bullets just bounce off the bear, which makes sense (kinda), but doesn't really make much sense from the perspective that the other characters use rocks and arrows, which seem to impact the bear more than guns do. 3. The characters have time to joke about immigration, comparing the bear to a disgruntled immigrant! 4. They have time to stop and cook/eat fish, which implies they also had time to stop and catch fish 5. Ephraim has time to read a book, as we mentioned, which they use to fuel the fire to cook the fish 6. They have time to philosophize about how freedom fighters throughout history are who we owe democracy to 7. They have time to pray 8. They have time to joke about arming the bear with a rifle, which would be unnecessary given that it's a 10+ foot tall killing machine impervious to bullets (apparently) 9. They have time to come up with this elaborate scheme involving getting to a high place and unlodging boulders They do ALL OF THIS while they could just be walking away in any direction other than toward the bear. The bear isn't even jogging! It'll occasionally stroll up and start roaring, but that's only after the characters are complaining, joking, debating, giving speeches, philosophizing, and goofing around for like ten hours. This whole problem could've just been solved if they would've just left the area. But instead it's like they want to confront this bear—and darn the consequences. Their poor dog, Yaka, is fighting this thing with every bit of his being. The poor sheriff and deputy are probably dead. All because of these idiots who won't just leave well enough alone. It's admittedly cool to see all of them work together to take on the bear, using rocks, swears, arrows, and everything they can. It's supposed to be a testament to how humans learned to work together to overcome nature. Ok, we get that. Anyway, this book really becomes a different book when the characters make it to America and we flash forward. Never recounts encountering racist, prejudice people in school who called her "Coppertone." She talks about the deportations due to Operation Wetback. She talks about how Scandinavians would often hire migrant agriculture workers. She talks about the JFK Assassinations. Then we get into the final chapters of this book, which are a bit more like a teen drama. Ok, can we just say this? We hated Never through most of these final chapters. Why? Well, she leads Looking Glass on while breaking his heart by dating Miguel instead, then cheats on Miguel, then cheats on the guy with whom she cheating on Miguel with (her "secret boyfriend"). WHAT... THE... F... Oh, and speaking of cheating. She 1000% cheated to win that race against Looking Glass by preying on his emotions. That's not some noble, glass-ceiling-breaking- triumph. That's some BS. Absolute BS. That, more than anything, made us sick of Never. We get that she's this flawed character with a tragic backstory, but to see her cheat and keep cheating and leading people like Looking Glass and Miguel on? That just sickened us. It made her seem trashy. This whole journey to make herself transcend trash, yet she acts like trash to people who love and care about her? Like, we're not saying she's Cersei Lannister. She didn't kill anyone, but... she's still frustrating. Our notes after Never wins her race are: "Never is a b**tch Hurts Looking Glass Falls for Miguel Has a 'Secret Boyfriend' F**ck her!" Well, at least that got a rise out of us. Maria Jose dies. There's this whole concern with the criminal underworld crawling back into Never's life. She think she's gonna be abducted. By the way, the PA announcer brings up that Never's sister was kidnapped by the people who trafficked them... ok... that happened... at some point? This book is so weird. ___________________ SPOILERS END ___________________ This book is really ambitious and unorthodox. If you like surrealist, absurdist stories that follow female protagonists as they climb to a higher place in their lives, this might be for you. Check it out on Amazon!  Score: 94/100 (9.4 out of 10)
"Have you turned down the opportunity to give a presentation even though you know the topic like the back of your hand? To take a relationship to the next level, even though it’s going really well? To apply for a promotion because it’s possible you won’t get it? To travel with a friend to a country you’ve never been to because you’re afraid? Did you look back with regret? Can you imagine how your life might be better or at least different if you had said 'yes' to any of those opportunities?" That excerpt perfectly illustrates the premise of this book: what if you finally gave yourself permission and said 'yes' to the things you've been keeping yourself from? The Permission Mission by Dr. Cindy McGovern is a motivational self-help book built around one central idea: too many people, especially women, live by “rules” and voices they absorbed from parents, teachers, culture, and past criticism instead of trusting their own judgment. McGovern calls those inherited voices “backup singers,” and her goal is to help readers stop waiting for outside approval, reclaim their own voice, and step into the “spotlight” of their own lives. The whole book is organized around a G.R.I.T. framework: give yourself permission, realize your desire must become stronger than your fear, in-power yourself, and take a step forward. The first half of the book explains where that hesitancy comes from. McGovern opens with personal examples of staying quiet, over-accommodating others, and following “good girl” expectations, then argues that many of the rules we obey are not laws at all, but social expectations we keep enforcing on ourselves. She connects that to childhood conditioning, imposter syndrome, gender stereotypes, perfectionism, and negative self-talk. Her repeated message is that the reader’s life should not be narrated by old voices from the past, and that worth is not something earned from others but something already possessed. In the second half, McGovern pushes readers to identify which “backup singers” still control them, trust their intuition more, treat grit as the loudest voice in the room, and practice concrete forms of self-authorization: asking for help, walking away from toxic situations, saying no, negotiating, acting instead of asking, refusing to overexplain private choices, speaking up, and taking incremental risks. The chapters are short and coaching-oriented, and many end with exercises like journaling, naming the old voices, rewriting outdated rules, practicing “no,” and choosing one immediate action step. If you really needed a kick in the butt, a jolt of motivation, and permission to chase that thing you know you've been holding back on, then this book might be for you! That's especially true if you're female. This book has a very heavy lean in that direction. This book actually has a lot of the same strengths and weaknesses as Unapologetic Wealth by Marcia Dawood. They essentially propogate the same message and approach them in very similar ways: that women have been held back and held down by patriarchal society, culture, and gender expectations, and that they have an opportunity to be successful if they could only be convinced and commit to it. McGovern approached the issue as women needing to give themselves permission to be successful. Dawood appraoched the issue as women needing to be unapologetic about seeking success. The problem that kept arising in our minds while reading both The Permission Mission and Unapologetic Wealth is: what about the dudes? What about men? Is everything all sunshine and rainbows for men? Men don't have struggles and problems and obstacles too, especially now that affirmative action and other policies and initiatives exist to help women? There's a statement in here about how women take things harder than men—how they take failure harder than men. Really? Cause men have significantly higher suicide rates than women. Men account for nearly 80% of suicides. You're telling us that women take things harder than men? That men are just these unshakable pillars of advantage and privilege? That bothers us. It's actually wrong. It's at least not nearly as true now as it was decades ago. That is one of the recurring weaknesses of this book. At times, it frames men as if they are standing on some golden escalator while women alone are trudging uphill barefoot through broken glass. That is just too neat, too simple, and too selective for us. Men absolutely deal with social conditioning, pressure, insecurity, rejection, failure, loneliness, and silence too. In many cases, they are taught not to cry, not to complain, not to ask for help, and not to admit weakness, which can be catastrophic in its own way. You think men don't struggle with asking for help? Men are told to suck it up. Boys are told from a young age that crying is for girls. They are often accused of being pussies, wusses, and cowards whenever they show apprehension toward doing anything. Women are not. And who is required to register for the draft? Who is more often to be deployed to war when the call goes out? It's men. That does not mean McGovern is wrong about everything. Not even close. She is clearly speaking to a female audience and to patterns that many women really do experience. Fine. Fair enough. One lingering weakness we noticed about this book is how redundant and repeptitive it often sounds. It often reads like a rehashing of what we already previously read. McGovern has a strong core message, but she returns to that same well so many times that it occasionally feels like she is remixing the same song rather than writing a new one. The G.R.I.T. formula gets repeated almost like a slogan, the language of “permission,” “backup singers,” and stepping into the “spotlight” keeps circling back, and even the transition from the end of Chapter 6 into Part Two basically restates the same motivational framework all over again. By that point, we already got it: trust yourself, mute the old voices, stop waiting for approval, and take the step forward. Anyway, there's some GREAT content in this book. We loved the examples the author provides about Dove, Elizabeth Taylor, Princess Diana, Stevie Nicks, and others, because those examples help keep the book from becoming too abstract or preachy. The Dove “beautiful” versus “average” doorway example is one of the stronger ones because it is so simple and so revealing. It gets right at the heart of the book’s argument that so many people, especially women, have internalized a smaller, sadder view of themselves and are still living by it. The same goes for the stories about Elizabeth Taylor and Princess Diana feeling pressured into marriages that were not truly their own choices. Those examples work because they are not just about fame, glamour, or celebrity gossip. They reinforce the larger point that even women the whole world viewed as iconic, beautiful, and powerful could still be steered, boxed in, and pushed by expectations from family, institutions, and society. That is when McGovern is at her best, when she stops talking in generalities and gives us recognizable lives and choices that embody the message. Our favorite example of this book is how the author is able to incorporate the words of the Cheshire Cat from from Alice in Wonderland to reinforce a truth that hits at the very center of McGovern’s message. “Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?” “That depends a good deal on where you want to get to,” said the Cat. “I don’t much care where . . .” said Alice. “Then it doesn’t matter which way you go,” said the Cat. “. . . so long as I get SOMEWHERE,” Alice added as an explanation. “Oh, you’re sure to do that,” said the Cat, “if you only walk long enough.” In other words, if you do not know where you want to go, then almost any road will do. That is such a smart choice because it ties perfectly into the book’s constant emphasis on intention, voice, and direction. You cannot give yourself permission to pursue your life if you have never really stopped to define what you want that life to look like in the first place. In that sense, McGovern is not just urging readers to be bolder. She is urging them to be clearer. Clearer about their goals, clearer about their values, and clearer about which voices deserve to guide them and which ones need to be politely escorted off the stage. That spoke to us: having a goal, a vision, and knowing what you're trying to accomplish makes getting there a lot easier. Check it out on Amazon!  Score: 94/100 (9.4 out of 10)
Reignite Your Power by Pawan Bareja is a compassionate, spiritually grounded trauma-healing guide that tries to do two things at once: explain trauma in accessible language and then give readers a practical path for working with it through mindfulness, nervous system awareness, and heart-centered practices. At the core, the book argues that trauma is not just “what happened,” but something that lives in the nervous system and shapes how we respond to danger, safety, memory, and emotion. Bareja presents mindfulness as the main way to notice trauma--the "dragon"--without getting swallowed by it, and she repeatedly emphasizes that healing is gradual, body-based, and tied to building resilience rather than forcing some instant breakthrough. She is also careful to frame the book as support, not a replacement for therapy, especially for readers with complex trauma. Bareja gives the whole book a memorable central metaphor right out of the gate by calling trauma a “sleeping dragon.” We actually think that image works really well. It gives the book a unifying symbol for how trauma can lie dormant, suddenly lash out, or be gradually understood and transformed rather than merely suppressed. Later, when she reflects on her own struggle, she even describes telling the dragon, “I’m taking back what is mine.” That is probably one of the stronger through-lines in the whole book because it turns healing into something active, courageous, and deeply personal. The book is also refreshingly realistic about healing. Bareja does not promise some shiny, instant, Instagrammable recovery arc. In fact, one of the best practical moments comes when she says, “Do less!” and then follows it with the excellent line, “Trauma resolution is not a race to be won, but a practice to be honored daily.” We really liked that. A lot. There is something deeply humane about a trauma book telling readers to slow down instead of pushing harder. She reinforces that by saying she does not expect trauma to simply vanish, but hopes symptoms decrease in frequency and intensity over time. That groundedness gives the book credibility. One of the book’s biggest themes is that healing is not about becoming “perfectly fixed.” Early on, Bareja says trauma resolution is not a race, and that the goal is not making trauma magically disappear, but decreasing its intensity and frequency so that the life force trapped inside it can be released into greater aliveness, purpose, and connection. That is really the emotional spine of the whole book. The middle section is the most unusual part. Bareja introduces “Buddhist personality types” as a new lens for understanding how people habitually respond to pleasant, unpleasant, and neutral experience. In the sections I reviewed, the three main types are the Optimist, Strategist, and Peacemaker, and she explores how different combinations of those types can either support or complicate trauma recovery. The idea is that self-knowledge changes how you approach healing, because different people avoid pain, overwork their healing, or get stuck in indecision for different reasons. While this section is interesting, no doubt, it's probably our least favorite part of the book. People have been trying to shoehorn people into categories and types for centuries: astrological zodiac signs, Chinese zodiac signs, Qabbalic sephira, blood-types, body-types, etc. It usually doesn't work out so neatly. Interestingly enough, the author accepts that. While these Buddhist personality types might be able to serve as a bit of a guide to understand oneself and others, they also tend to overlap and not be 100%. In any case, we usually don't find this categorization/typology of people all that useful or practical, but maybe that's just us. Apparently, a ton of people the author worked with were able to use it to their advantage. For example, there is Janna, a long-time meditator whose nervous system gets thrown off after a firecracker goes off outside a retreat window, leaving her with persistent tinnitus. Bareja explains that Janna initially approached it with an Optimist mindset, expecting it to just go away, but healing only really began once she stopped obsessing over why it happened and shifted her attention toward what was happening in her body right now and how to work with the symptom compassionately. Then there is Ellen, who had been in a relationship marked by her partner’s violent outbursts and whose nervous system had settled into a freeze response. Bareja says Ellen’s healing could not be rushed or attacked head-on. Instead, they worked on helping her identify what she actually liked and disliked, building trust in her own emotions and bodily signals. As Ellen gradually came out of freeze and shifted into fight and flight energy, she took up running and kickboxing to help her body release what had been trapped. That is one of the clearest examples in the book of someone concretely benefiting from the author’s approach. There is also Sofia, who seems to have spent a long time masking her real feelings. Bareja describes her as someone who had to learn patience, sit with confusion, and stop bypassing the slower, murkier emotional work. Eventually, Sofia was able to get in touch with grief, loss, sadness, and her true needs and desires. Later, in the forgiveness section, Bareja revisits Sofia and says that as she worked through forgiving Ben, the other women involved, and finally herself, she felt her heart reopening and began moving through life with more joy and vulnerability. That is a pretty substantial transformation arc, and honestly one of the better case-based threads in the book. So, yes, the client stories are where this book earns a lot of its goodwill. Without them, it could have risked feeling like a thoughtful but abstract trauma-and-mindfulness manual. With them, it becomes more tangible. We see people stuck in tinnitus, freeze, dissociation, masked emotion, betrayal, and anxiety, and we see the author trying to help them move, slowly, toward more regulation, clarity, self-trust, and openness. Bareja herself even says in chapter 2 that in the client stories she shares, none of those people chose their trauma, but they did learn to use their minds and bodies differently in response to it. That is really the practical heart of the book. We usually approach meditation and mindfulness books with a great deal of skepticism. We've encountered a lot of them over the years. At the very least, the author is able to provide proof of concept with the aforementioned case studies and examples. Oh, and we encountered a few concepts that we were familiar with from other books! For example, the author discusses the use of "tapping" as a technique. We encountered the concept of tapping in The Woo Woo Way by Sandy Evenson. The author also discusses a lot of the same breathing, meditation, and mindfulness techniques that we read about in The Overthinking Orbit by Erin George, REAL Psychology by Dr. Scott Flagg, Awaken to Your Truth by Joanna Alexopoulos, and more. So, it stands to reason that if these techniques and methods are used and promoted by so many people, they must be worth trying. Check it out on Amazon!  Score: 92/100 (9.2 out of 10)
A Fragment of Chrome is a cyberpunk sci-fi novel by Miikka Rautioaho! The book follows Corren Vega, also known as Psyche, a heavily augmented mercenary moving through the poisoned, sinking underbelly of Ocean City, where corporate power, bodily modification, addiction, and survival all bleed together. He is hired by fixer Tera Parse to investigate the theft of a prototype called the Obsidian Key from a high-security Ironshire facility. What begins as a retrieval job quickly becomes something much messier, involving corporate secrecy, the Marrone crime family, and a larger question about what Corren is becoming with each new piece of chrome grafted onto him. The investigation pulls Corren into an uneasy alliance with Twilight Protocol, especially Amber Kattegat, Andon Romero, and Zephyr. That alliance becomes the emotional backbone of the novel. As Corren digs deeper, the theft points toward Damon Marrone and then toward something even stranger: Voidrain, a powerful sentient AI tied to the Obsidian Key and operating behind the scenes. The crew infiltrates Club Inferno, Corren gets pulled into dangerous cyber encounters, and the job escalates from detective work into open war. Corren and Amber grow closer, Andon’s protectiveness causes friction, and the book keeps pressing on Corren’s old wounds from war, addiction, and losing pieces of himself. From there, the story turns darker and more personal. Amber is kidnapped, Corren risks everything to get her back, and the Marrone conflict widens into a brutal campaign involving shifting alliances, betrayals, and an eventual assault on Damon’s manor. A lot of how you feel about this book will likely depend on how you feel about Corren/Psyche. Corren is probably best summarized in this passage: "I understood this world. Could read its patterns like lines of code, predict its movements with algorithmic precision. Every fixer needed muscle. Every corporation needed spies. Every criminal needed someone disposable enough to take the risks they would not. I was perfectly designed for this ecosystem: emotionally detached, physically enhanced, and morally flexible enough to serve whoever paid best while telling myself it was all in pursuit of some greater purpose." In a sense, Corren is a lot like Vazeer the Lash from the Shadow Bidder series by Peter Eliott. Like Vazeer, Corren is a skilled and somewhat eccentric mercenary who works for the highest bidder in a world ruled by unscrupulous people and organizations. In fact, the world of this book actually reminded us a lot of the structure of the world in the Shadow Bidder series. With that said, the universe of A Fragment of Chrome is a lot more futuristic, apocalyptic, and cyberpunk while the universe of Shadow Bidder is more medieval-fantasy. Anyway, we found ourselves a bit torn about how to feel about this book. It has characters like Corren and Amber who are interesting on paper or in concept. It also has a world that's interesting on paper or in concept. To top it off, the writing is actually above-average. There's some strong prose and even some serviceable dialogue in here. The problem is... something about this book wasn't quite clicking for us. It felt stretched thin and drawn out. We'll sum it up in one word: tedious. The world is dense, the plot keeps piling on twists and turns, and there are so many moving parts, action beats, and characters that the story kept losing us along the way. Now, to be fair, we had a similar experience with the first installment of the Shadow Bidder series. Both books build and build and build incessantly. In the end, the Shadow Bidder series paid all that build off in book 2 and book 3, the latter of which was our Fiction Book of the Year last year, by the way. The problem is, it sometimes feels like the narrative of this book is testing our patience more than rewarding it. There is a major confrontation at the end, but instead of delivering the kind of mano-a-mano payoff we were hoping for, the characters end up playing chess while discussing philosophy and the state of the world. It just seems so clunk, canned, and contrived. The chess scene is not inherently a bad idea. In fact, some readers will probably love that. But after all the buildup, we were hoping for something more immediate, explosive, and physically confrontational. This is an action novel (sorta) after all, right? There is action, but a lot of it was lost on us because we couldn't quite buy into the stakes or the reasoning. Now, we have an exception: rescuing Amber. Rescuing Amber is arguably our favorite part of the whole book. It shows Corren in a more human, chivalrous, and heroic light. But so much of this book feels like: go kill this unscrupulous guy because the other unscrupulous person said he could be bad news. We'll pay you, by the way. We just weren't feeling it. Ok, we have to tell you something. You know what really made this book seem tedious to us? The constant talk about cybernetics. Cybernetics are a huge part of this book. They're a huge part of Corren's character. In fact, they practically encompass Corren's character, for better or for worse. We're constantly reminded that he has a cybernetic this or a cybernetic that. Everything is cybernetic. Cybernetic arm. Cybernetic fingers. Cybernetic eye. It's just so overdone and overstated. It got on our nerves. You might as well not even state what bodypart he's using if it's just going to be another cybernetic bodypart. We're just gonna assume it is. The other tedious thing is all the Japanese stuff. There's so much Japanese stuff. There are so many Japanese words and phrases. Corren carries a bunch of Japanese weapons like he's some kind of modern samurai or ninja despite having cybernetic parts. Why not craft a gun or a cannon to your stump, you dope? Look, we love Japan. We love Japanese media, Japanese anime, Japanese games, Japanese culture, the Japanese people. The problem is, in a futuristic apocalyptic society like this, it seems so out of place and fan-boyish. It's like that "I Think I'm Turning Japanese" song. You get this feeling that the author is just such a big fan of Japanese stuff that he just needed to have it in this society in which it barely fits. Anyway, this book reminded us a lot of Hounds of Gaia by Sean Tirman with all the cybernetically-enhanced characters. At the same time, we think the action and the drama in Hounds of Gaia somewhat edges this one out. Maybe it's just us. With all that said, this book shines in one way: the writing. The writing is actually well above average. The sentences flow very well from one to the next. The author uses a lot of detailed descriptions and imagery. Here are a few of our favorites: "All of this--the grief, the connection, the weight of loss--felt like looking through a window that was slowly frosting over. I could still see it, still feel it, but there were layers of ice between me and this kind of human moment." "But that feeling was dangerous. Comfort bred complacency. Complacency bred mistakes. And mistakes got people killed." (Reminded us of that one Yoda quote about fear leading to suffering, by the way) "The tremors subsiding like ripples in a pond after the stone has sunk." The author also makes great us of alliteration like: "...floating in an ocean of digital darkness..." "...present for someone else’s pain." Check it out on Amazon! |
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