REVIEW: No Straight Road Takes You There: Essays for Uneven Terrain by Rebecca Solnit (2-stars)

 I have really enjoyed the author's writing in the past and this one was painfully uneven. It is more like a collection of blog posts -- including a bit of a soapbox rant about why non-linear non-fiction is misunderstood (in reference to "Orwell's Roses" criticisms). 

Some of the essay had lukewarm points but mostly forgettable this time around.

© Jennifer R Clark. This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License. You may share and adapt this content with proper attribution.

REVIEW: Uncultured: A Memoir by Daniella Mestyanek Young (2-stars)

 <i>Uncultured</i> is a memoir that spans an extraordinary life — from growing up in the Children of God cult to serving in the U.S. Army. Daniella Mestyanek Young’s story is undeniably compelling, but the book’s uneven tone, narrative gaps, and ethical ambiguities make it a challenging read.

The memoir feels like three different books stitched together. The childhood section is written with novelistic flair — vivid and emotionally intense. The high school and college years are more fragmented, while the Army section shifts into a procedural tone. This inconsistency makes it hard to stay immersed in the story.

Young’s portrayal of her first husband, Jeff, is particularly troubling. She admits to illegally recording a phone call in which he allegedly planned to accuse her of adultery — a serious claim, complicated by her own retaliatory accusation that he was gay. She also describes how he would tear her down when she looked “too pretty,” painting a picture of emotional manipulation, but the narrative feels one-sided and unresolved.

The memoir is saturated with references to body image — from her constant hunger to her fixation on achieving a “condom full of bones” physique, a phrase she repeats to describe the ideal Army runner’s body. These moments are raw and revealing, likely rooted in her childhood experiences of abuse and perfectionism, but they’re also jarring and sometimes feel unprocessed.

Young’s repeated efforts to avoid being perceived as queer in the Army — including her use of slurs — have drawn criticism. While the language is uncomfortable, it reflects the real fear and pressure of serving under “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell.” Still, the book doesn’t fully grapple with the implications of these choices, leaving readers to fill in the moral gaps.

Young briefly acknowledges the pervasive rape culture in the Army — including a chilling moment when her superior advises her to “not get raped” before deployment. But rather than exploring this systemic misogyny in depth, she seems to accept it as the cost of being a woman in uniform — until she doesn’t. Her own choices, including engaging in physical relationships with coworkers while trying to maintain a facade of professionalism, are presented without much reflection. These contradictions are never fully unpacked, and the memoir misses an opportunity to critically examine how women navigate — and sometimes internalize — the very systems that oppress them.

While Young’s courage in telling her story is undeniable, she often positions herself as an authority — not just on her own life, but on leadership, cults, and trauma psychology. By the end of the book, she claims “35 years of study of leaders and cults,” a statement that strains credibility given her upbringing in an environment that actively suppressed access to education and outside information. This kind of overreach contributes to a sense that she’s not just telling her story — she’s trying to control its interpretation, which can make her feel like an unreliable narrator.

In so many of the cases of her adult trials -- the threats from Jeff, alleged rape by the man she was dating while on deployment, the missing cell phone of her subordinate, the brain tumor symptoms (after she said she spent months researching right in the text) -- the corroborating evidence is missing, making many of these things one sided.

Uncultured is a story of survival, but it’s also a story that raises as many questions as it answers. The memoir’s uneven tone, ethical gray areas, and lack of introspective depth make it a frustrating read at times. Still, it offers a rare window into the psychological aftermath of cult life and the institutional trauma of the military — even if it doesn’t always do so with clarity or grace.

REVIEW: Uncultured: A Memoir by Daniella Mestyanek Young 

RATING: 2-stars

© Jennifer R Clark. This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License. You may share and adapt this content with proper attribution.

REVIEW: Malibu Rising by Taylor Jenkins Reid (1-star or less)

I made it about 13% into Malibu Rising before deciding to put it down. This one just isn’t for me.

The writing is clunky and, at times, just plain bad. Phrases like “naked except for a pair of bikini underwear” and “went and did” (a thing) feel lazy and grammatically off. The prose lacks rhythm or depth, and the dialogue feels like it’s trying too hard to be cinematic — probably because it’s angling for a screen adaptation (which, yes, Hulu picked up).

Character development is paper-thin. The women are described in terms of their “lean, taut, suntanned” bodies — like a casting call for Baywatch — and there’s a constant undercurrent of objectification that feels dated and shallow. Once again, Taylor Jenkins Reid seems more interested in glamorizing the wealthy and beautiful than in exploring anything emotionally real or grounded.

The plot (if there is one) barely moves, and the sex scenes are as dull as the characters. It reads like a glossy soap opera without the fun or the stakes.

What really sealed it for me was the stilted scenes and internal monologues around surfing and the ocean. I looked into the author’s research process and found that she had no prior knowledge of surfing — she reportedly prepared by watching surf movies. And it shows. There’s no real sense of connection to the ocean or surf culture — just a reliance on clichés and stereotypes. It’s hard to take a story seriously when the setting feels like a backdrop borrowed from a postcard.

After struggling through Forever Interrupted, I hoped this would be a step up. Instead, it’s more of the same — just with more bikinis and beachfront property.

REVIEW: Malibu Rising by Taylor Jenkins Reid 

RATING: 1-star or less

© Jennifer R Clark. This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License. You may share and adapt this content with proper attribution.

REVIEW: Forever, Interrupted by Taylor Jenkins Reid (2-stars)

 “Forever Interrupted” by Taylor Jenkins Reid was a tough read — not because of the subject matter, but because of the protagonist and the writing itself. I pushed through to the end, but it felt more like a chore than a journey.

Elsie, the main character, is emotionally unstable, manipulative, and often deeply unlikable. Her grief is understandable, but the way she treats others — and the way the narrative seems to excuse it — made it hard to empathize. At times, I wondered if her husband’s tragic accident was less tragic and more symbolic.

There are unsettling undercurrents throughout the book, particularly around body image and disordered eating. Grief is repeatedly used as a justification for not eating, losing weight, and even vomiting — all described in unnecessary detail. The fixation on weight gain (especially while staying with her mother-in-law) felt gratuitous and tone-deaf.

The pregnancy scare subplot was bizarre and overwrought. The level of anxiety and projection that unfolded over a few days felt implausible and melodramatic.

I also found the book to be disappointingly whitewashed and overly enamored with wealth — a recurring theme in Reid’s work, but more glaring here without the complexity or nuance of her later novels.

I enjoyed "The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo," but this debut left me wondering what exactly I saw in it. Maybe it’s a case of an author growing into her voice — but this one didn’t work for me.

REVIEW: Forever, Interrupted by Taylor Jenkins Reid  

RATING: 2-stars

© Jennifer R Clark. This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License. You may share and adapt this content with proper attribution.

REVIEW: Bad Kitty Goes on Vacation by Nick Bruel (5-stars)

 This is a fun graphic novel focused on Uncle Murray and the bad kitty who win a vacation and encounter many obstacles to fun along the way, including evil chickens trying to subvert human preference for cats over chickens as domestic pets.  

There's a happy ending and Uncle Murray gets to watch his tv program and enjoy his favorite sandwich in his favorite chair with all his pets.

REVIEW: Bad Kitty Goes on Vacation by Nick Bruel 

RATING: 5-stars

© Jennifer R Clark. This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License. You may share and adapt this content with proper attribution.

REVIEW: Out of the Blue: A dark sapphic romantic thriller by Marisa Billions (3-stars)

 The final book in Marisa Billions’ trilogy, Out of the Blue, takes a sharp turn into thriller territory—and it’s a wild ride. This time, the spotlight shifts to Sophie, who has left her manipulative husband behind (with a hefty divorce settlement) and relocated to the Pacific Northwest to start fresh. She opens a yoga studio, makes quirky new friends, and begins to build a peaceful life. But peace doesn’t last long.

Soon, Sophie starts receiving threats, and women’s bodies begin washing up on the shore. The town is gripped by fear, and Sophie suspects her ex-husband is behind it all. Her new partner—who also happens to be the town mortician—adds a macabre layer to the story, offering detailed insights into the victims and their gruesome deaths.

The plot thickens with cults, kidnappings, and a murder spree that seems to be orchestrated by Sophie’s ex’s new love interest, who has started a cult of her own. The motive? Revenge for Sophie’s divorce settlement—though the logic is murky, the tension is real. Emma and Morgan return to help Sophie, and the story barrels toward a violent, chaotic climax. 

<spoiler>Emma ends up killing one of the attackers in the same way her first wife Bailey was killed—a chilling full-circle moment that ties back to the first book.</spoiler>

This final installment is twisty, dark, and at times over-the-top, but it delivers on drama and emotional payoff. Sophie’s arc—from manipulated cult member to survivor and business owner—is satisfying, and the return of Emma and Morgan gives the trilogy a sense of closure. It’s not a neat ending, but it’s a cathartic one.

REVIEW: Out of the Blue: A dark sapphic romantic thriller by Marisa Billions 

RATING: 3-stars

© Jennifer R Clark. This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License. You may share and adapt this content with proper attribution.

REVIEW: Into the Blue Again by Marisa Billions (3-stars)

 After the intense and twisty "Like Sapphire Blue," I jumped straight into "Into the Blue Again," which shifts gears into a more introspective, emotionally layered story. Emma is released from prison early and begins the difficult process of rebuilding her life. This book is less about external conflict and more about healing, trauma, and the messy, nonlinear path to redemption.

A major focus is Emma’s relationship with Morgan, a woman she met while on the run in the first book. Their connection deepens through letters and Morgan’s handwritten journal, which Emma reads while incarcerated. Morgan’s story is deeply unsettling—she’s haunted by the ghost (or guilt) of her fiancé Jonathan, who died by suicide in a way designed to punish her emotionally. The ghost is cruel, manipulative, and clearly a manifestation of her unresolved trauma.

But Morgan’s past goes even deeper. She was part of a disturbing cult-like community where she was emotionally manipulated into marrying into a hetero couple. She was drawn to the wife, Sophie, but not the husband—who ultimately forces himself on her. This part of the story is handled with a raw, unflinching honesty that adds to the emotional gravity of the book.

Despite all this, Emma continues to show Morgan compassion and patience. She offers her multiple chances, even sending her airfare to help them reconnect. Their eventual reconciliation feels hard-won and emotionally satisfying, though the road there is anything but smooth.

This book is quieter than the first, but no less intense. It’s a deep dive into guilt, forgiveness, and the long shadows of trauma. If you’re already invested in Emma’s journey, this is a powerful continuation that rewards your emotional commitment.

REVIEW: Into the Blue Again by Marisa Billions 

RATING: 3-stars

© Jennifer R Clark. This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License. You may share and adapt this content with proper attribution.

REVIEW: Like Sapphire Blue by Marisa Billions (4-stars)

 I received copies of all three books in this series directly from the author (a friend of my second cousin), and I devoured them all in one weekend. They’re fast-paced, emotionally intense, and packed with drama—definitely not light reading, but deeply engaging.

Like Sapphire Blue kicks off the series with a bang. The structure—alternating between past and present—initially threw me off, but I came to appreciate how it mirrors the protagonist Emma’s fractured and evolving understanding of her own life. The payoff is chilling and powerful: Emma, shaped by a lifetime of trauma, ends up mirroring the very violence that shaped her childhood.

Emma’s journey is harrowing. Raised in a trailer by her father and uncle after her mother’s mysterious disappearance, she endures relentless bullying, sexual harassment, and later, sexual assault. Despite it all, she excels academically and athletically, eventually becoming a lawyer. Her romantic relationship with another girl—who is dating Emma’s bully—adds another layer of tension, especially when that girlfriend is sent to conversion therapy. The emotional weight of these experiences is heavy, but the characters’ inner lives are well-developed and the dialogue feels authentic.

One thing that did pull me out of the story at times was the extensive description of interiors and furniture. I later learned from the author that this was intentional—she wants readers to see what she sees—but for me, it occasionally slowed the momentum.

Still, the sheer volume of adversity faced by Emma and nearly every other character is staggering. It borders on overwhelming, but it also underscores the resilience and complexity of these characters. Emma’s eventual imprisonment and her work helping fellow inmates with literacy and legal matters adds a redemptive arc that I found compelling.

If you’re looking for a story that doesn’t shy away from dark themes and moral ambiguity, this one’s for you. Just be prepared for a wild emotional ride.

REVIEW: Like Sapphire Blue by Marisa Billions 

RATING: 4-stars

© Jennifer R Clark. This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License. You may share and adapt this content with proper attribution.

REVIEW: Slayers of Old by Jim C. Hines (4-stars)

Slayers of Old is a fast-paced, character-driven fantasy that blends classic good-vs-evil tropes with thoughtful explorations of legacy, identity, and the complexities of family. Jim C. Hines delivers a stand-alone novel that’s both fun and emotionally resonant, with just enough world-building to ground the story without overwhelming it.

Told through alternating perspectives—Jenny, a retired hunter of evil with a connection to the goddess Artemis, is a healer with a strict code of ethics related to power and violence; Annette, a half-succubus mother and monster-slayer; and Temple, a 99-year-old magician grappling with love, loss, and transformation—the novel weaves together action, humor, and heart. The pacing is strong, and while some background elements are repeated, they never bog down the story.

One of the standout arcs is Ronnie, a 17-year-old “last of his kind” defender against magical evil. Orphaned young and raised by the ghost of his mother Margaret (who inhabits the family van—yes, like "Christine"), Ronnie finds a new sense of belonging and purpose under the mentorship of Jenny, Annette and Temple. His growth from isolated teen on a mission to valued member of a found family is one of the book’s most rewarding emotional threads.

Margaret’s story also takes a beautiful turn as she connects with Temple, whose own arc culminates in his transition to a ghostly form. Their bond offers a touching “happily ever after-life” that feels both earned and heartwarming.

The intergenerational dynamics shine: Annette’s strained relationship with her son Blake, and his own struggles as a father, add emotional weight. Meanwhile, Blake’s son Morgan is pulled into a high-stakes plot to unleash an eldritch god, raising the tension and testing the family’s strength.

Hines also thoughtfully incorporates themes of consent and mutual responsibility—particularly through Jenny’s magical contracts and Annette’s internal conflict between duty and motherhood. These elements elevate the story beyond a typical monster-hunting romp.

A particularly compelling thread throughout the novel is the presence of legacy organizations dedicated to fighting evil. Whether it’s Jenny’s initiation into the “Hunters of Artemis,” Ronnie and Margaret’s family line of defenders, or the magical and demonic heritage of Annette and Temple’s families, these parallel traditions underscore a central theme: the fight for good is a shared, generational effort. Each group brings its own strengths, histories, and burdens, but together they form a rich tapestry of resistance against darkness. 

While I had some initial reservations about a male author writing two of the three main protagonists as women, the portrayals felt respectful and nuanced. The book doesn’t center on sexuality, despite the succubus lineage, which I appreciated.  Some of the questions raised for me are related to the burden and evolution of legacy and purpose, as well as the value of collaboration.  

Let's not forget the part-shoggoth cat with multiple eyes and tentacles who has decided to remain in that form as a mascot, nor the "Stuart Little" -like mouse community, which add a fun and whimsical touch to the story.

Overall, Slayers of Old is a satisfying, self-contained fantasy adventure with heart, humor, and just enough darkness. Recommended for fans of found family, magical legacies, and stories where the emotional stakes are just as important as the magical ones.

REVIEW: Slayers of Old by Jim C. Hines 

RATING: 4-stars

© Jennifer R Clark. This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License. You may share and adapt this content with proper attribution.

REVIEW: Best Wishes from The Full Moon Coffee Shop (The Full Moon Coffee Shop, #2) by Mai Mochizuki (2-stars)

"Best Wishes from the Full Moon Coffee Shop" is a glossy, whimsical novella that blends magical realism, astrology, and holiday sentimentality into a series of loosely connected vignettes. Set during Christmas and populated by gods and goddesses who shift between cat and human forms, the story feels like a blend of a Japanese fairytale and a Dickensian ghost story—with a heavy dose of aesthetic charm and celestial symbolism.

The narrative follows three main characters:

Satomi, whose boyfriend plans to propose on Christmas Eve, though she’s unsure about her future; Junko, her sister-in-law, who is estranged from her father and navigating new family dynamics (including a strangely delayed dog adoption from the café’s magical cats); and, Satori’s employee, a young woman grieving her father’s death who ultimately reconnects with her mother, stepfather, and half-brother.

Each character is guided by planetary deities who offer moral lessons tied to reincarnation, forgiveness, and personal growth. The book leans heavily on astrology, even including star charts for each character and emphasizing the ascendant sign as a marker of past-life strengths. While this may appeal to astrology enthusiasts, the execution often feels twee and overly expository.

The café staff—celestial beings in disguise—are given their own chapters, but their personalities blur together despite the effort to tie their roles to planetary movements. The result is a story that feels more like a concept pitch for an animated film than a fully realized novella. The emotional beats are present, but often feel distant or overly orchestrated.

While the book has moments of charm and visual richness, it’s weighed down by its own aesthetic and moral framing. Readers looking for a cozy, magical holiday tale with strong visual and astrological themes may enjoy it, but those seeking deeper character development or narrative cohesion might find it underwhelming.

REVIEW: Best Wishes from The Full Moon Coffee Shop (The Full Moon Coffee Shop, #2) by Mai Mochizuki 

RATING: 2-stars

© Jennifer R Clark. This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License. You may share and adapt this content with proper attribution.