Thanks to Edelweiss and the publisher for providing me with a digital ARC. All thoughts are my own.
I’m a fan of creators having control over the thingThanks to Edelweiss and the publisher for providing me with a digital ARC. All thoughts are my own.
I’m a fan of creators having control over the things they create. Yes, to a degree, all art is a process of collaboration, whether it’s written or visual. But there’s nothing worse than seeing a creator either forced down an avenue they don’t want to explore or having their entire project taken out of their hands. The latter, it seems, is what happened with 2017’s Justice League movie. Full disclosure: I’m pretty neutral on Zack Snyder as a filmmaker— I’ve liked some of his films, and I’ve disliked some of his films. I’m also pretty neutral on the fandom that surrounds him—every fandom has positive and negative elements, and I think it’s disingenuous to paint any fandom based on its worst aspects. So, I don’t have any skin in the discourse that surrounds the Snyder Cut. What I do have, however, is an interest in the behind-the-scenes stories of films like Justice League. This interest is what brought me to Sean O’Connell’s Release the Snyder Cut. Going into it, I was hoping for a well-sourced examination into the making of the Justice League movie—what went wrong, how it went wrong, and how we got to a point where Snyder’s original cut could be made. Unfortunately, that’s not what the book is. Instead, O’Connell’s book reads as more of an extended blog post, briskly chronicling the history of the DCEU—from its earliest days with Man of Steel up until the disastrous theatrical release of Justice League and the subsequent fan-driven campaign to restore Snyder’s original cut. It’s fine, but there’s not much here that isn’t available elsewhere.
First things first, if you’re coming to Release the Snyder Cut for an in-depth look at either the making of Justice League or the fan-driven campaign to get Warner Bros to release Snyder’s original cut, this isn’t the book for you. Not only is it too short to go into any real depth on either of those subjects, but it also tries to cram both of them into its short page-count. What results is a book that never dives below the surface level of anything it’s trying to discuss. In terms of its attempt to cover the history behind Justice League and the DCEU, Release the Snyder Cut bites off a bit more than it can chew with its page count. There are just too many things to discuss in too small an amount of time for O’Connell to be able to do so in a satisfying manner. He breezes past the beginnings of the DCEU, essentially recapping the making-of, and reactions to, Man of Steel and Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice, using this as a precursor to talking about the behind-the-scenes drama that befell Justice League.
This wouldn’t necessarily be a problem if he had a bunch of information about what happened behind-the-scenes of Justice League. But he doesn’t. It quickly becomes clear that O’Connell doesn’t have much to report here that hasn’t already been reported. Sure, he’s got a new interview with Zack Snyder that he sprinkles excerpts from throughout the book, but there’s not much from that interview that reveals anything particularly enlightening. It’s just a few anecdotes about how he feels about his fanbase and, vaguely, about how he and Warner Bros initially parted ways in 2017. Devoid of anything new or revealing, much of what Release the Snyder Cut says about the making of Justice League has been reported elsewhere, and in more depth, already. The book sort of reads as an extended blog post that’s simply aggregating and rewording information that already exists. It feels more like a really long book report or Wikipedia summary than a journalistic book about the making of a film.
Even with that in mind, this could have still been something special had O’Connell pivoted towards exploring the Release the Snyder Cut movement with the depth he couldn’t afford to Justice League’s actual production. And, at times, it does seem like that’s what he’s trying to do. Numerous chapters feature fairly long excerpts from interviews O’Connell’s held with various members of the Release the Snyder Cut movement. And these are kind of interesting. But, again, he never really goes into any depth with it. There’s no real discussion about how the group managed to do any of the things they did; he just reports on it and occasionally gets the opinion of someone who was kind of involved. To a total outsider, it doesn’t seem like O’Connell managed to snag any interviews with anybody who could be classified as a leader of the movement—he mostly seems to just be talking to random people who participated in the campaign.
Like with the lack of depth in his examination of Justice League’s behind-the-scenes woes, the lack of any kind of true peek behind the curtains of this fan-driven campaign hurts the book. None of the interviews with the members of the campaign are particularly insightful or revelatory. It’s nice getting to hear from them and getting to see a fanbase that’s done some positive things (for all that’s been written about the negative side of the Release the Snyder Cut movement, they’ve also raised quite a bit of money for the AFSP), but throughout the book, I felt like I wanted to hear more about them. The book’s synopsis suggests this is the untold story about the folks who campaigned for Warner Bros to release Snyder’s cut of Justice League, but the book’s not really about them. Half of it is spent on recapping the history of the DCEU/the making of Justice League, a quarter of it is spent recapping what the campaign did, and then that final quarter is spent talking with some of the people in the campaign. Again, I can’t say any of this is bad, but it is disappointing.
And, ultimately, that’s how you could describe Release the Snyder Cut as a whole. It’s a competently written piece examining both the behind-the-scenes drama that led to the disaster that was the theatrical cut of Justice League and the fan-driven campaign that led to Warner Bros allowing Zack Snyder to complete his original vision for the film. But, aside from these brisk overviews of these topics, the book doesn’t offer much that’s unique. It’s a quick read, but I’m not sure it’s worth the price. If you’re interested in learning about the behind-the-scenes aspects of the film, you can find all of that from various media reports pretty easily online—though, I suppose, it is pretty nice to have so much of it aggregated here for those who have only a cursory interest. If you’re interested in how the Release the Snyder Cut campaign did the things they did, you’re not gonna find that out here. You’ll hear about what they did, and you’ll hear about how a few of the people in the movement felt, but you won’t get any real insight into how things are run. The book is a solid recapping of all that’s happened since Justice League was made—but not much more. I’m not sure it’s worth the price of entry.
Merged review:
Thanks to Edelweiss and the publisher for providing me with a digital ARC. All thoughts are my own.
I’m a fan of creators having control over the things they create. Yes, to a degree, all art is a process of collaboration, whether it’s written or visual. But there’s nothing worse than seeing a creator either forced down an avenue they don’t want to explore or having their entire project taken out of their hands. The latter, it seems, is what happened with 2017’s Justice League movie. Full disclosure: I’m pretty neutral on Zack Snyder as a filmmaker— I’ve liked some of his films, and I’ve disliked some of his films. I’m also pretty neutral on the fandom that surrounds him—every fandom has positive and negative elements, and I think it’s disingenuous to paint any fandom based on its worst aspects. So, I don’t have any skin in the discourse that surrounds the Snyder Cut. What I do have, however, is an interest in the behind-the-scenes stories of films like Justice League. This interest is what brought me to Sean O’Connell’s Release the Snyder Cut. Going into it, I was hoping for a well-sourced examination into the making of the Justice League movie—what went wrong, how it went wrong, and how we got to a point where Snyder’s original cut could be made. Unfortunately, that’s not what the book is. Instead, O’Connell’s book reads as more of an extended blog post, briskly chronicling the history of the DCEU—from its earliest days with Man of Steel up until the disastrous theatrical release of Justice League and the subsequent fan-driven campaign to restore Snyder’s original cut. It’s fine, but there’s not much here that isn’t available elsewhere.
First things first, if you’re coming to Release the Snyder Cut for an in-depth look at either the making of Justice League or the fan-driven campaign to get Warner Bros to release Snyder’s original cut, this isn’t the book for you. Not only is it too short to go into any real depth on either of those subjects, but it also tries to cram both of them into its short page-count. What results is a book that never dives below the surface level of anything it’s trying to discuss. In terms of its attempt to cover the history behind Justice League and the DCEU, Release the Snyder Cut bites off a bit more than it can chew with its page count. There are just too many things to discuss in too small an amount of time for O’Connell to be able to do so in a satisfying manner. He breezes past the beginnings of the DCEU, essentially recapping the making-of, and reactions to, Man of Steel and Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice, using this as a precursor to talking about the behind-the-scenes drama that befell Justice League.
This wouldn’t necessarily be a problem if he had a bunch of information about what happened behind-the-scenes of Justice League. But he doesn’t. It quickly becomes clear that O’Connell doesn’t have much to report here that hasn’t already been reported. Sure, he’s got a new interview with Zack Snyder that he sprinkles excerpts from throughout the book, but there’s not much from that interview that reveals anything particularly enlightening. It’s just a few anecdotes about how he feels about his fanbase and, vaguely, about how he and Warner Bros initially parted ways in 2017. Devoid of anything new or revealing, much of what Release the Snyder Cut says about the making of Justice League has been reported elsewhere, and in more depth, already. The book sort of reads as an extended blog post that’s simply aggregating and rewording information that already exists. It feels more like a really long book report or Wikipedia summary than a journalistic book about the making of a film.
Even with that in mind, this could have still been something special had O’Connell pivoted towards exploring the Release the Snyder Cut movement with the depth he couldn’t afford to Justice League’s actual production. And, at times, it does seem like that’s what he’s trying to do. Numerous chapters feature fairly long excerpts from interviews O’Connell’s held with various members of the Release the Snyder Cut movement. And these are kind of interesting. But, again, he never really goes into any depth with it. There’s no real discussion about how the group managed to do any of the things they did; he just reports on it and occasionally gets the opinion of someone who was kind of involved. To a total outsider, it doesn’t seem like O’Connell managed to snag any interviews with anybody who could be classified as a leader of the movement—he mostly seems to just be talking to random people who participated in the campaign.
Like with the lack of depth in his examination of Justice League’s behind-the-scenes woes, the lack of any kind of true peek behind the curtains of this fan-driven campaign hurts the book. None of the interviews with the members of the campaign are particularly insightful or revelatory. It’s nice getting to hear from them and getting to see a fanbase that’s done some positive things (for all that’s been written about the negative side of the Release the Snyder Cut movement, they’ve also raised quite a bit of money for the AFSP), but throughout the book, I felt like I wanted to hear more about them. The book’s synopsis suggests this is the untold story about the folks who campaigned for Warner Bros to release Snyder’s cut of Justice League, but the book’s not really about them. Half of it is spent on recapping the history of the DCEU/the making of Justice League, a quarter of it is spent recapping what the campaign did, and then that final quarter is spent talking with some of the people in the campaign. Again, I can’t say any of this is bad, but it is disappointing.
And, ultimately, that’s how you could describe Release the Snyder Cut as a whole. It’s a competently written piece examining both the behind-the-scenes drama that led to the disaster that was the theatrical cut of Justice League and the fan-driven campaign that led to Warner Bros allowing Zack Snyder to complete his original vision for the film. But, aside from these brisk overviews of these topics, the book doesn’t offer much that’s unique. It’s a quick read, but I’m not sure it’s worth the price. If you’re interested in learning about the behind-the-scenes aspects of the film, you can find all of that from various media reports pretty easily online—though, I suppose, it is pretty nice to have so much of it aggregated here for those who have only a cursory interest. If you’re interested in how the Release the Snyder Cut campaign did the things they did, you’re not gonna find that out here. You’ll hear about what they did, and you’ll hear about how a few of the people in the movement felt, but you won’t get any real insight into how things are run. The book is a solid recapping of all that’s happened since Justice League was made—but not much more. I’m not sure it’s worth the price of entry....more
John Dorney brings Bob Baker and Dave Martin's original idea for Doctor Who's Tenth Anniversary celebration to life in a deliciously exciting way. It John Dorney brings Bob Baker and Dave Martin's original idea for Doctor Who's Tenth Anniversary celebration to life in a deliciously exciting way. It offers everything you love about 1970s Doctor Who but amped up to an eleven. Featuring pitch-perfect performances from Tim Treloar, Michael Troughton, and Jon Culshaw and a cracking script that pays homage to Doctor Who's past while unleashing it from the constraints of a 1970s television budget, Deathworld offers a deliciously tempting look at an alternate version of Doctor Who's first multi-Doctor special. It can never replace the beauty of The Three Doctors - nor should it. But as a story in its own right and a look at what could have been, it makes for an experience any Doctor Who fan should seek out.
On the one hand, I can appreciate the commitment to the bit here. The idea of birds not being real and, instead, being a variety of drones employed byOn the one hand, I can appreciate the commitment to the bit here. The idea of birds not being real and, instead, being a variety of drones employed by the government to spy on its citizens is a fun one. But there’s just not enough there to sustain a book like this for 200 pages. Framing the book as a tell-all expose on the conspiracy is, again, a fun one. But there’s just not enough meat hanging from the bones of this joke to sustain that. And frequently, things just devolve into pretty standard conspiracy mockery that’s neither clever nor particularly funny.
As a decent-sized article, this would’ve been fun. But as a full-length book, it’s a bit tedious and repetitive. Fun enough at times, but it greatly overstays its welcome.
Disclaimer: a review copy was provided by the publisher and Edelweiss+ in exchange for a fair review. All thoughts are my own. ...more
What if random objects all around the world started sprouting human bones? What if, in their investigation, officials learn that the afterlife has an What if random objects all around the world started sprouting human bones? What if, in their investigation, officials learn that the afterlife has an overpopulation problem? These are the questions at the center of Daniel Kraus and Maan House’s The Cemetarians. It’s a very X-Files sort of premise - two people of opposing beliefs team up to solve a supernatural mystery. Unfortunately, The Cemetarians lacks any of the character development or narrative intrigue of its chief inspiration.
To be fair, it’s not entirely Kraus and House’s fault that The Cemetarians feels a bit lacking. The graphic novel's biggest problem is that it feels way too short for the story it’s trying to tell. A mere four issues, 120-ish pages in total. That’s nowhere near enough time to explore a story as earth-shattering as this one nor is it enough time to give its chief characters enough characterization for their respective arcs to have any weight to them. Instead, The Cemetarians is a case of one thing happening after another constantly, leaving no room for any pauses, breaks, or character exploration.
That’s not to say it’s a bad read or anything; it’s not. For what it is, it’s fun enough. It’s quick-paced and Kraus throws enough ideas at the wall that there’s never a dull moment. Plus, House’s artwork is deliciously atmospheric, dripping with gothic body horror and really leaning into the sheer unholiness of the book’s premise. It’s just one of those books that’s all skin and bones; a story that works sheerly due to its premise’s audacity rather than its execution.
Disclaimer: a review copy was provided by the publisher and Edelweiss. All opinions are my own....more
At the end of the day, Doctor Who: Broken Memories does exactly what it sets out to do. It delivers a collection of stories that combine classic DoctoAt the end of the day, Doctor Who: Broken Memories does exactly what it sets out to do. It delivers a collection of stories that combine classic Doctors with villains from the show's modern era. What makes this particular set so enjoyable, though, is the way each story recontextualizes those villains, either by digging deeper into why they act the way they do or by shining a new light on them. With the exception of its two-part finale, this is one of those box sets where you could easily listen to whichever story you wanted, in any order you wanted to. And that's honestly the joy of it. It's a simple, entertaining romp through Doctor Who's past and present in the most enjoyable way possible....more
A field guide exploring the history of Bigfoot - both his reported sightings and how his legend has spread - sounds like the perfect read for cryptozoA field guide exploring the history of Bigfoot - both his reported sightings and how his legend has spread - sounds like the perfect read for cryptozoologists, old and new alike, right? And it would be - if that’s the kind of book John O’Connor’s The Secret History of Bigfoot is. But, despite suggestions to the contrary, The Secret History of Bigfoot isn’t really an exploration of the history of the Bigfoot legend. Nor is it really an examination of the ways myths take root in our culture. Instead, it’s mainly a book about the time O’Connor spent with Bigfoot hunters. His traipses through the woods, his observations, the way he connects with these people he feels othered from.
And, in that regard, The Secret History of Bigfoot is a smashing success. O’Connor takes a remarkably nonjudgmental stance towards the whole idea of Bigfoot. Sure, you never feel like he believes in the legend. But he believes that these Bigfoot hunters believe in it, and he meets them where they are. That makes for a truly fascinating read, full of breathtakingly human exchanges. That combination of startling humanity and O’Connor’s very witty, personable voice makes for a light, breezy read.
The problem is that the book feels very surface-level yet also incredibly padded. It never really explores the totality of the Bigfoot legend - its history nor how it’s managed to permeate American culture so wholly. But it somehow has time to spend extended time on mostly-extinct animals and philosophical, psychological, and sociopolitical insights that feel straight out of a freshman seminar. And that makes for quite a jarring read. The book is at its best when O’Connor is following in the footsteps of Bigfoot hunters, really enveloping himself in their rituals and beliefs. But at the same time, that train of thought never really goes anywhere. And, after all, how could it? Bigfoot remains a myth; suggestions of his existence seep into the public consciousness but, as yet, no definitive proof has ever emerged.
And, unfortunately, a book about Bigfoot that fails to take a stance either way is destined to feel incomplete. As it is, The Secret History of Bigfoot is an entertaining look at the time O’Connor spent with Bigfoot hunters. But as an overview of the cryptid’s legend, and how that legend’s spread, it’s disappointingly thin.
Disclaimer: a review copy was provided by the publisher and Edelweiss. All thoughts are my own....more
You might know George A. Romero as the Master of Zombies; creator of Night of the Living Dead, Dawn of the Dead, and Day of the Dead. But it wasn't juYou might know George A. Romero as the Master of Zombies; creator of Night of the Living Dead, Dawn of the Dead, and Day of the Dead. But it wasn't just zombies that fascinated Romero. You need only look at the recently uncovered The Amusement Park for evidence of Romero's other interests. And then there's his unfinished novel, Pay the Piper. Uncovered in 2019 by novelist (and co-writer of 2020's The Living Dead), Daniel Kraus, Pay the Piper saw Romero wade into the bayous of New Orleans with a reinvention of the classic Pied Piper legend. Having completed Romero's The Living Dead, Kraus returns to complete Pay the Piper. And while the resulting novel offers a captivating, emotionally-driven retelling of the Pied Piper legend, its narrative feels stretched thin and underbaked. An unfocused stew that boils over with electric ideas but nearly drowns under the weight of conflicting metaphors.
Something strange haunts the swamplands of Alligator Point, Louisiana. It's a force that lures the bayou's children out of their homes in the depths of the night and guts them. But what is this force and what does it want? As the citizens of Alligator Point reel from this series of tragedies, young Pontiac tries to make sense of the unexplainable. Secrets lie around every corner in Alligator Point, and it's about time for its citizens to answer for the sins of their ancestors. But can they do so before it's too late? Or is the Pied Piper about to get its due? In Pay the Piper, Romero and Kraus brilliantly reinvent the classic legend of the Pied Piper, giving it a very modern update. What once was a mere boogeyman haunting the dreams of children now morphs into an examination of intergenerational trauma and retribution.
Romero and Kraus weave together a sprawling epic - crossing generational and socioeconomic barriers to explore the history of this small, Louisiana bayou. It’s all at once horrific, emotionally raw, and lowkey hilarious. Where Pay the Piper shines brightest is through its characters and world-building. Through the residents of Alligator Point, Romero and Kraus craft a world that jumps off the page. Populated by characters you desperately want to spend time with and see overcome their seemingly mundane challenges, Alligator Point crackles with specificity and emotional vulnerability. Pay the Piper jumps back and forth between the points of view of over a half dozen characters - which may, at first, seem like a lot. But these varying points of view give the novel some much-needed depth, and Romero and Kraus craft each character with such love and care that it’s a gift to spend time with them.
The same cannot be said for Pay the Piper’s overarching narrative. Romero and Kraus’s reinvention of the Pied Piper myth oozes creativity. Now a mysterious shapeshifting being who lures children to their death not by magical song but by preying on their hopes and fears. It’s a dark twist that Romero and Kraus mine for everything it’s worth. But only in the novel’s first half, that is. For as Pay the Piper progresses, it quickly becomes apparent that this isn’t just some bog standard reinvention of the Pied Piper myth but, instead, a more Candyman-flavored reimagining. Biting social commentary disguised as a traditional supernatural horror story. And Romero and Kraus almost pull it off. Except Pay the Piper can’t seem to decide what it wants its central metaphor to be and, instead, stretches itself thin trying to be too many things at once.
On the one hand, it’s a story about a community forced to face the ramifications of their ancestors’ crimes. On the other hand, it’s a warning for humanity; a plea to take care of the planet, to treat each other kindly. And with this flip-flopping, the novel’s latter half feels quite unfocused. You’re never sure exactly what’s happening or why, and the Piper itself goes from a grounded, menacing threat to an over-the-top Lovecraftian nightmare. Given how simple the book’s first half is, this wild expansion stretches the novel to breaking point. There’s simultaneously not enough space to properly explore these conflicting themes nor is there enough meat on their bones to justify the inclusion of both. It’s fitting that the climax features a storm of sorts as the book, itself, kind of blows up in a tsunami of intriguing ideas that never coalesce into a cohesive whole.
Even so, it’s hard to walk away from Pay the Piper unsatisfied. While its narrative may sometimes be unfocused, plagued by a wealth of ideas that feel underexplored and underbaked, Romero and Kraus’s focus on character and world-building carry Pay the Piper over the finish line. All at once haunting, emotional, and lowkey funny, Pay the Piper offers an engaging reimagining of a classic legend told through a very modern lens. At its heart, it's a tantalizing glimpse into the mind of a legend best known for his zombie movies; a peak into the other kinds of stories he was interested in. That the book itself kind of fizzles out towards the end matters little given how enjoyable a read it is. Come to Pay the Piper for the fleshed-out characters and lived-in world, and you'll have a great time.
Disclaimer: A review copy of Pay the Piper was provided by the publisher. All thoughts are my own....more
Doctor Who: Buried Threats offers a solid showcase of the Ninth Doctor's character. He wanders the universe, helping out where he can. But right thereDoctor Who: Buried Threats offers a solid showcase of the Ninth Doctor's character. He wanders the universe, helping out where he can. But right there, close behind him, is that fear of who he's been, of the atrocities he's been a part of. When the boxset gives Eccleston the room to truly dig into those deeper emotions and trauma, it really comes to life. But, as has been the case for Big Finish's Ninth Doctor series as a whole, it seems scared to fully open that box. And that's a shame, as the thing that's always made the Ninth Doctor so interesting is seeing him come to terms with his role in the Time War. Sure, his TV run covered that nicely, but Eccleston is so good at sinking his teeth in that kind of drama that he ought to be given more chances to do so.
As it is, Buried Threats delivers an enjoyable trilogy of standalone stories. You've got your emotional historical, your off-the-walls modern-day murder mystery, and your character-driven, introspective exploration of the Doctor. It's all very standard fare for these box sets at this point, but Buried Threats executes those standards quite well....more
Revisit the making of The West Wing in Melissa Fitzgerald and Mary McCormack’s What’s Next: A Backstage Pass to The West Wing, 3.5/5 stars, rounded up
Revisit the making of The West Wing in Melissa Fitzgerald and Mary McCormack’s What’s Next: A Backstage Pass to The West Wing, Its Cast and Crew, and Its Enduring Legacy of Service. Featuring a host of newly-conducted interviews and archival anecdotes, What’s Next offers readers a glimpse behind the scenes of this beloved show. And, as you might expect, it’s a bit of a tome. Exhaustive, some might say. That thoroughness is both the book’s greatest strength and biggest weakness.
Fitzgerald and McCormack weave a tapestry exploring both the history and making of The West Wing - how it came to be greenlit, how each of the major characters was cast, deep dives into specific episodes, etc - while also shining a light on the cast’s history of political and social activism. This combination makes for an intriguing read; one-part behind-the-scenes book, one-part memoir. But there’s just so much information crammed into these 600 pages that it makes for a daunting read. And while those glimpses at the cast’s activism are insightful and often moving, they really break the flow of the book’s exploration of The West Wing’s seven-year history.
Add onto that the uneven focus Fitzgerald and McCormack give to certain aspects of The West Wing’s evolution over other ones, and the problem just compounds. For example, more than a hundred pages are spent exploring how each member of the cast ended up joining the show. In fact, nearly a third of the book focuses solely on this subject. But then the book blazes through multiple major milestones in the show, passing entirely over some fan-favorite episodes and largely ignoring some of the more difficult aspects of the show’s history. Add to that the book’s heavy tilt toward the Sorkin-led first four seasons at the expense of diving deep into the Wells-led final seasons, and you’ve got a recipe for an uneven read.
That being said, Fitzgerald and McCormack still craft an expansive, deeply loving retrospective of this beloved series. It may be exhaustive to a fault, but it’s also deeply moving and genuinely insightful. If you’re not the world’s biggest West Wing fan, there’s probably a ton of information in this book you’ve never heard before. And chapters like the one that focuses on John Spencer’s passing, allowing the cast and crew to really eulogize a man they all deeply admired, respected, and loved, is more than worth the price of admission.
Put simply, if you’re a fan of The West Wing, the book’s a must-read. It’s tailor-made for those fans. As for everyone else, it may prove a bit too dense to fully get into; a bit too “insiders baseball”. But for what it is, it’s pretty darn good.
Disclaimer: a review copy was provided by the publishers and Edelweiss+. All thoughts are my own....more
Journey back in time to the Umbrella Academy’s earlier years in Alyssa Sheinmel’s The Umbrella Academy: Young Blood. Long before Re(3.5/5, rounded up)
Journey back in time to the Umbrella Academy’s earlier years in Alyssa Sheinmel’s The Umbrella Academy: Young Blood. Long before Reginald Hargreeves’ death reunited the Umbrella Academy and long before Ben’s tragic death, the Hargreeves siblings itched for a glimpse at freedom, for the chance to be normal kids. But what happens when they go out into the world, in search of a normal night at a college party? Can they escape their extraordinary lives? Or are they destined to save the day wherever they go? These are the questions at the heart of Sheinmel’s Young Blood - and they’re questions she answers to a tee. Young Blood feels just like an episode of The Umbrella Academy.
Balancing six different character arcs and an extraordinary threat, Sheinmel delivers a story that's sure to please Umbrella Academy fans new and old alike. While the book struggles to deliver fully satisfying character arcs to each of the Hargreeves siblings, it never fails to be anything less than entertaining. If anything, Young Blood makes a great case for an ongoing series of Umbrella Academy YA novels - just with a narrow focus next time. A fast-paced, page-turner of a novel, The Umbrella Academy: Young Blood thrills, entertains, and packs a pretty good punch - however brief it might be.
Claudia Gray's The X-Files: Perihelion reopens the X-Files with a thrilling, emotionally charged novel that's sure to please even the most skeptical oClaudia Gray's The X-Files: Perihelion reopens the X-Files with a thrilling, emotionally charged novel that's sure to please even the most skeptical of fans. With an action-packed plot that combines the best elements of the show's mythology with a healthy dose of character development for Mulder and Scully, Perihelion makes an excellent case for the X-Files continuing as an ongoing series of novels. It's not a total homerun; the ending's pretty unresolved and the plot itself feels a bit derivative. But Gray so perfectly captures the essence of Mulder and Scully's relationship that it's hard to imagine someone walking away from this book without even the hint of a smile on their face. There's just so much quintessential X-Files goodness to love here. And Gray's absolute love of the series is so infectious that it's easy to lose yourself in the story she crafts.
Cat Sebastian returns to the world of We Could Be So Good with You Should Be So Lucky. If that first book was basically Newsies but gay, then thi4.5/5
Cat Sebastian returns to the world of We Could Be So Good with You Should Be So Lucky. If that first book was basically Newsies but gay, then this one is Sebastian’s take on sports romances. Journey back to the late 1950s, where grumpy reporter, Mark Bailey, is assigned an ongoing column about Eddie O’Leary, the newest member of a local Major League Baseball team and current sufferer of one of the worst slumps in baseball history. Mark’s not a sports writer by any stretch of the imagination, so he’s unsure what to expect from his interactions with Eddie. But what he definitely doesn’t expect, however, is to fall in love with the city’s most talked about baseball player. It’s a love story for the ages - if they can just navigate their way through it.
Put simply, if you loved We Could Be So Good, you’ll love You Should Be So Lucky. Sebastian’s gift for crafting heartbreakingly real characters is on full display. Eddie’s one of those men who so desperately wants to be a force of joy in the world. He craves love just as much as he craves making those around him happy. And the fact that he finds himself in this unbreakable slump eviscerates him, triggering the very worst of his insecurities. And then, on the other hand, there’s Mark, caught somewhere between being an open book and being a one-man-fortress-of-solitude. If Eddie needs adoration, then Mark needs to be understood. As a pairing, they’re the stereotypical lovable grump/ray of endless sunshine. But Sebastian gives both of them such depth that it’s easy to find yourself wrapped up in their lives. Sebastian makes you love these characters, she gets you invested in their romance, and she makes it easy to understand why they fall for each other.
Even better than that is the way she uses their courtship to explore much bigger themes - themes of grief, found family, and the danger and importance of being true to yourself. This is a story about two men who find each other, despite all odds. But it’s also a story of finding your inner strength - whether that’s the strength to move on from a traumatic event or to simply grant yourself an ounce of grace. At times, it can be a hard read. But it’s never too much, never too devastating, and never trauma for the sake of trauma. It’s just a dose of raw humanity on full display. Sebastian’s writing is filled with warmth, love, and just so much joy. You Should Be So Lucky is the kind of book that simultaneously overjoys you while also wholly wrecking you from the inside out. And to elaborate on that balance would absolutely ruin the experience, so it’s best to expect laughter and tears in equal supply.
At the end of the day, You Should Be So Lucky is a joyous, fast-paced, immensely compulsive read from start to finish. It’s the kind of book that digs under your skin and sticks with you long after you read it. The kind of book that wrecks you, but in the most joyous of ways. Sebastian’s novels always read like the literary equivalent of comfort food in the best way possible - and that’s certainly true for You Should Be So Lucky. This is the kind of book you read if you need a warm hug, a glimpse at the true joys of loving someone so fully. It’s the perfect read for a light, breezy summer day and a book that’s easy to lose yourself in for a few hours.
Disclaimer: A review copy was provided by the publisher and Edelweiss. All reactions are my own....more
John Jackson Miller's Star Wars: The Living Force offers readers a compelling glimpse at the Jedi Council of the Star Wars prequels. While 4.5/5 stars
John Jackson Miller's Star Wars: The Living Force offers readers a compelling glimpse at the Jedi Council of the Star Wars prequels. While it occasionally struggles to give its sprawling cast enough to do, it nails its exploration of the Jedi Council as a whole. Individual characters may fade in and out of importance, but The Living Force is far more concerned with viewing the Jedi Council as an entity in its own right - diving deep into its failures and the possibilities of its future. And, in that regard, The Living Force never fails to be compulsively readable. It's thrilling, action-packed, and surprisingly emotional, telling a story that's both critical of what the Jedi have become and hopeful about what they can be.
It's Star Wars at its most compelling; a story of hope, second chances, and the complexities of doing the right thing. It offers a compelling return to a familiar world for longtime Star Wars fans. But for newer readers, it delivers an immediately gripping glimpse at the state of the Star Wars galaxy immediately before the prequels. And for that, it's certainly worth a read.
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