REVIEW: "Platform Decay" by Martha Wells (5 stars)

Just over two years ago, I discovered — and promptly devoured — Martha Wells’ Murderbot Diaries. The series hooked me with its unusual protagonist: a part‑organic, part‑mechanical security construct who has hacked its governor module and claimed its own autonomy. Calling itself “Murderbot,” it’s a hyper‑competent multitasker who can monitor a dozen threats while binge‑watching future‑space telenovelas. As a relatively “new” human, Murderbot has a complicated relationship with emotions, and the series tracks its gradual, often funny, often touching evolution as it figures out what it means to be a person, make friends, and navigate feelings it never asked for. It’s no surprise that many readers see Murderbot as a stand‑in for teenagers, neurodivergent folks, or anyone who has ever felt out of sync with the world.

If you’re new to the series — or if you’ve only watched the Apple TV+ adaptation — there’s still time to catch up. At its core, Murderbot’s story is a sequence of adventures that double as a coming‑into‑personhood narrative. It has an intrinsic sense of fairness, a habit of pulling information from wildly diverse sources (especially pop culture), and a growing awareness of the political structures around it. One of the series’ ongoing themes is the tension between the hyper‑capitalist “Corporation Rim” and the more egalitarian societies struggling to exist outside its reach.

Platform Decay, the eighth installment, can absolutely stand alone. Wells gives new readers enough grounding to understand who Murderbot is, what it can do, and why its freedom is precarious.

This time, the action unfolds on a massive rotating space station shaped like a torus, orbiting a planet that has been strip‑mined into ruin. (If you’re not familiar with torus habitats, the Stanford Torus page on Wikipedia has great visuals.) The station itself is one of the book’s delights: Wells avoids the trap of “video‑game level design” by giving each subdivision its own history, socioeconomic profile, and architectural logic.

The plot centers on Murderbot and its fellow SecUnit, Three — a newer model who has been free for far less time — as they attempt to rescue their friends from Preservation. These friends, all brown and all from a non‑Rim world, have been illegally detained by Corporation operatives and are being processed for indentured servitude (or worse). The parallels to the past year of ICE overreach in the U.S. are unmistakable. Wells doesn’t soften the critique; she uses the sci‑fi frame to make the injustice sharper, not more distant.

While Murderbot can hack security systems, forge credentials, and erase itself from surveillance feeds without breaking a sweat, its real challenge is blending in. Much of the book’s humor comes from its attempts to navigate the crush of humanity on the torus, including installing movement‑assist modules so it can walk more like a natural‑born human. The resulting journey has a bit of Tintin energy — lots of transit systems, lots of motion, lots of chaotic detours — all described with Wells’ signature dry wit.

There’s plenty of action: rescuing friends, evading capture, investigating reports of a “rogue SecUnit” (which turns out to be Three making some questionable choices out of boredom), and dealing with wealthy, entitled kids who have turned piracy into a hobbyist “smash and grab.” Through it all, Murderbot remains Murderbot — trying to minimize harm when possible, but taking undeniable satisfaction in dealing decisively with people who insist on being terrible. At one point, it does all this with a kindergartener attached to it like a barnacle, which is exactly the kind of chaotic tenderness that makes this series work.

And ultimately, Platform Decay is less about whether Murderbot will succeed — long‑time readers know the mission will get done — and more about how it gets there. The pleasure of this installment is in the movement, the worldbuilding, the character beats, and the messy, funny, deeply human moments along the way. After so much fast‑paced action, the ending feels a bit anticlimactic, but that’s because the real payoff is the journey itself.

REVIEW: "Platform Decay" by Martha Wells

RATING: 5 stars

Thanks to TOR and NetGalley for the ARC. The book is due out in May 2026.

REVIEW: The History of Money: A Story of Humanity by David McWilliams (2-stars)

 TLDR: A lively premise weighed down by oversimplification and a mismatch between subtitle and substance.

McWilliams sets out to tell “a story of humanity,” but the execution feels much narrower. The book reads as if it were built around a handful of pre‑selected concepts (coins, credit, trust, markets) rather than a coherent historical arc. Because that structure is never made explicit, the narrative jumps abruptly across centuries and civilizations, often without context or connective tissue.

The opening chapter on Rome is engaging and cinematic, but the momentum falters quickly. The transition into the Middle Ages is especially thin, relying on broad generalizations about Western Europe (“command and control economy,” “work hard to go to heaven”) rather than primary sources or meaningful economic analysis. Entire regions and monetary innovations — China, the Islamic world, the Mongol Empire, Africa, the Americas — are largely absent, which makes the subtitle’s claim to cover “humanity” feel overstated.

I’m also increasingly wary of books marketed as both a “breezy romp” and “important.” Those two promises rarely coexist well. When a book tries to be light, fast, and universal all at once, the result is often what happens here: a narrative that moves quickly but flattens complexity, oversimplifies history, and leaves out the very material that would make the subject genuinely meaningful.

The writing is accessible and fast‑paced, but often at the cost of depth. Readers looking for a TED‑style overview may enjoy the tone. Readers seeking rigor, global context, or a grounded history of monetary systems will likely find the treatment too superficial.

Recommended alternatives: If you’re genuinely interested in the history of money or want a more accurate picture of the medieval world, I strongly suggest pairing (or replacing) this with:

• Jack Weatherford’s The History of Money — a more global, anthropological, and conceptually coherent exploration of how money evolved across cultures.

• Matthew Gabriele & David Perry’s The Bright Ages — not a book about money specifically, but an excellent corrective to the flattened, Eurocentric Middle Ages narrative used here.

Bottom line: A quick, energetic read that overpromises on scope and underdelivers on depth. Best suited for readers new to the topic who prefer narrative momentum over historical nuance. REVIEW: The History of Money: A Story of Humanity by David McWilliams

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: Smitten: Romantic Obsession, the Neuroscience of Limerence, and How to Make Love Last by Tom Bellamy (2.5 stars)

I came to Smitten curious about the psychology of limerence — that intense, euphoric, often obsessive state that masquerades as love. While I don’t doubt limerence exists, this book offers more breadth than depth. It’s readable and occasionally insightful, but lacks original research and leans heavily on secondary sources. For a book that claims to explore the neuroscience of love, it feels more like pop psychology than rigorous analysis.

One of the book’s core issues is that it tries to do too much for too many audiences. Is it a basic primer on limerence? A neuroscience explainer? A self-help guide for people suffering from limerent obsession? It’s unclear. These goals could have been better served by splitting the material into separate books or at least distinct sections with more focus. As it stands, Smitten reads more like a collection of long blog posts than a cohesive, well-structured work.

Bellamy is clear that limerence is not a mental illness:

“Experiencing limerence is not a symptom of mental illness, a psychological wound or an emotional failing. For most limerents it is a normal part of the process of falling in love, albeit with a force that has a fierce and alarming power.” (Chapter 5)

He also addresses attachment theory, noting that while limerence is often associated with anxious attachment, it’s not exclusive to it:

“More than half of the population who do not have an anxious attachment style are limerents. But—and it is a big but!—eight out of ten people who have anxious attachments are limerents.” (Chapter 6)

Bellamy introduces a taxonomy of archetypes who supposedly attract limerent individuals — the damsel in distress, tortured soul, agent of chaos, bad boy/girl, the rock, the leader, the guru, the free spirit, the mysterious stranger. These are interesting sketches, but the framing implies intentional manipulation. In reality, these people may just be living out their own unresolved narratives. As I wrote in my notes: “Maybe they just have their own movie going.”

One of the few moments that rang true for me was in Chapter 14, where Bellamy writes:

“Limerence fades. Regardless of how spectacular the thrills are at the beginning of a relationship, expecting that euphoric connection to last more than a few months is unrealistic. Quite apart from how exhausting it would become, it doesn't make sense from an evolutionary perspective. Limerence is the drive to form a pair bond tight enough to result in conception; it has no real role in making it last.”

This echoed something I told an ex who broke up with me after more than two years together because “we get along too well, you’re too nice to me.” We were compatible intellectually, physically, emotionally — but they said, “I love you, but I’m not in love with you.” When I asked what being in love meant to him, they described a pattern of unreciprocated obsession that lasted “until they blocked my number/stopped speaking to me.” That’s not romance — that’s limerence as compulsion.

Chapter 15 is even titled “I love you but I’m not in love with you,” but instead of exploring the emotional fallout of that statement, it focuses on infidelity and the vulnerability of limerent individuals to extramarital obsession. It’s a missed opportunity to unpack how limerence can sabotage healthy relationships — not because the partner is lacking, but because the limerent person is chasing a feeling that’s unsustainable.

In Chapter 16, Bellamy suggests channeling limerent energy into self-improvement. This reminded me of my ex’s cycles of intense infatuation — not just with people, but with hobbies. He would dive deep into culinary knives and sharpening techniques, then Afro-Cuban drumming, then pottery. These weren’t casual interests; they were full-blown obsessions. I can’t help but see a connection between limerence and adult ADHD — especially the dopamine-driven novelty-seeking, emotional impulsivity, and hyperfocus that characterize both.

Chapter 17 introduces a “recovery mindset,” reminding readers that “limerence is happening in your head” — that it’s the limerent person who makes the object seem special. Bellamy advises readers to “check your instincts,” avoid self-medication, and accept that you can’t “just be friends” with a limerent object. He encourages building a life of purpose, listing traits like honesty, self-awareness, openness to renewal, courage to face discomfort, an internal locus of control, decisiveness, and action orientation.

“Creating a life without limerence... may not be as flashy and exciting as the thrills of limerence, but it is a deeper, more profound contentment. Finding a purpose, a goal you care about, a vision of what your life could be like if you took control of your destiny, shifts you from a state of passive dependency to one of active motivation. Living with purpose means you stop depending on the LO for comfort, stop following their lead, stop letting their behavior dictate your mood.”

This is solid advice — and probably the book’s strongest section — but it comes late and without much psychological depth. Bellamy doesn’t explore how neurodivergence, trauma, or attachment styles might shape limerent behavior. Nor does he offer tools for people who are in relationships with limerents — those of us who are “too nice,” too stable, too real to compete with the fantasy.

In the end, Smitten is readable and occasionally insightful, but it left me wanting more. More research, more nuance, more empathy for the people caught in the wake of limerent obsession. It made me want to revisit Dorothy Tennov’s original work — and to seek out more rigorous writing on the psychology of love, obsession, and neurodivergence.

REVIEW: Smitten by Tom Bellamy

RATING: 2.5-3 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: We'll Prescribe You Another Cat (We'll Prescribe You a Cat, #2) by Syou Ishida (3 stars)

 I loved the first book, We’ll Prescribe You a Cat, for its whimsical yet emotionally resonant storytelling. Unfortunately, the sequel didn’t quite live up to that promise. While the concept remains charming—a mysterious cat named Dr. Nikké prescribing feline companions to help humans navigate emotional challenges—the execution this time felt uneven and occasionally tone-deaf.

Much of the book’s attention is oddly focused on documenting cat poop and butt-sniffing, which detracts from the emotional depth of the stories. One quote from Dr. Nikké stood out for the wrong reasons:

“It’s no bad thing to be choosey about your cat, whether it be about its appearance or breed...”

This framing misses a valuable opportunity to promote fostering and rescue. Instead, it implies cats are interchangeable based on aesthetics or breed preference, which felt unsettling.

The first story arc had potential—a young woman with a distant, emotionally unavailable boyfriend is prescribed three purebred cats with distinct personalities. I expected a message about choosing companions (human or feline) based on emotional compatibility rather than looks, but the theme was never fully developed.

The second story, about an elderly man and his grandchild, was confusing but seemed to culminate in a shared mission to help neighbors find lost cats. The third story, featuring a jealous younger sister and a disconnected household, was more compelling. The prescribed munchkin cat helped bridge emotional gaps and reinvigorate family bonds.

The final story, centered on the older brother (a shelter worker), introduces a strange twist: Dr. Nikké appears in human form, borrowing the brother’s appearance. This creates confusion for the sister, but oddly, the brother doesn’t notice the resemblance. The mechanics of Dr. Nikké’s magical transformation are murky—he’s lethargic and locked in a pen, yet somehow projecting himself into the clinic. Is he dying? Exhausted? The ambiguity feels less magical and more inconsistent.

Overall, the book has moments of charm and insight, but it lacks the emotional clarity and thematic cohesion of the first volume. I’d love to see future installments embrace the realities of animal rescue and deepen the emotional arcs of the human characters.

REVIEW: We'll Prescribe You Another Cat (We'll Prescribe You a Cat, #2) by Syou Ishida 

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: Powerfully Likeable: A Woman's Guide to Effective Communication by Kate Mason (3-stars)

 Kate Mason’s Powerfully Likeable offers a timely and compassionate message: women can—and should—embrace both power and likeability without compromise. While the book’s tone is warm and conversational, it often reads like a podcast transcript or a series of blog posts, with personal anecdotes that sometimes illuminate but frequently overwhelm the core message.

One of the strongest chapters focuses on self-advocacy, particularly Mason’s story about working with a new manager during a promotion cycle. Her decision to create a one-page factual document listing her accomplishments—complete with metrics—was not only strategic but empowering. It’s a concrete example of how women can make their work visible and advocate for themselves effectively.

Mason also addresses the reluctance many women feel in claiming expertise, highlighting how hedging language (“I’m not an expert, but…”) and ritual apologies can undermine authority. Her advice on clear, confident communication—like using “Sushi Train Logic” to structure arguments—is practical and memorable, though often buried under layers of repetition.

The chapter on rest and overpreparation feels underdeveloped. While Mason introduces a useful four-step rubric for strategic preparation, her treatment of rest is cursory. She misses an opportunity to explore transitions, boundaries, and the mechanics of unplugging—topics that deserve more than a passing mention.

Ultimately, Powerfully Likeable is a book with heart and good intentions. It’s best suited for readers who enjoy coaching-style storytelling and are looking for encouragement rather than a tightly structured guide. For those seeking a more concise, research-driven toolkit, this may feel like a 1,400-pound tuna when a few well-cut fillets would do.

REVIEW: Powerfully Likeable: A Woman's Guide to Effective Communication by Kate Mason 

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: Automatic Noodle by Annalee Newitz (4-stars)

 Automatic Noodle is a cozy sci-fi novella that quietly upends expectations. In a world where robots form a found family and navigate identity, labor, and self-presentation, Newitz offers a nuanced portrait of “the other” — whether that’s trans folks, immigrants, disabled people, or anyone who’s ever felt out of place.

The story centers on a group of robots, each uniquely shaped and deeply individual: one resembles an octopus, another dreams of making noodles despite having no mouth. After being abandoned when the owner of the fast food restaurant they worked in failed to pay rent and the power was shut off, the robots come together to reclaim the space — not just as a workplace, but as a home. They form a collective, building a new business and a new life on their own terms.

Their differences aren’t just aesthetic — they’re symbolic, and often poignant. One robot, who initially presents with a human-female upper body and wheeled mechanical legs, undergoes a transformation that includes removing her prosthetic breasts and replacing them with sparkling lights. It’s a moment that feels both joyful and defiant, and it resonated with me deeply — especially after learning from the author that it was a bit of wish fulfillment following their own breast reduction surgery.

There’s even a robot “sex” scene, described not through anatomy but through sensation — an embrace that activates all their positive sensors. It’s a beautiful way to portray intimacy without being prescriptive, and it fits perfectly within the story’s gentle, affirming tone.

Though short, Automatic Noodle lingers. It’s a story about labor and power, yes — but also about joy, chosen family, and the freedom to define oneself. Highly recommended for fans of speculative fiction who crave warmth, wit, and a little sparkle.

I received an advance reader copy (ARC) of this novella directly from the author.

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.

REVIEW: Stone and Sky (Rivers of London, #10) by Ben Aaronovitch (3-stars)

 I’ve been a fan of Ben Aaronovitch’s “Rivers of London” series since my good friend Matt first loaned me books 1-5 of the series many years ago.  I thoroughly enjoyed the sense of humor, the urban fantasy worldbuilding and its commitment to diversity. I have been looking forward to the latest installment in the series – which includes graphic novels and novellas.  

Unfortunately, plot and character seem to fall short in “Stone & Sky,” and I found more than a few distracting representational and structural issues that reduced my overall enjoyment.  More than previous installments in this series, this one (combined with my recent reading of the “Springtime Masquerade” and the two most recent graphic novels) illuminated questions about authenticity, authorial gaze, and the limits of metaphor in fantasy fiction.  

From uneven portrayals of queer relationships to the infantilization of magical beings, from the overuse of white male cultural references to the stylized rendering of dialect and slang, Stone & Sky reveals cracks in the series’ inclusive veneer. What emerges is a pattern of selective authenticity—where some identities are explored with depth and care, while others are flattened, exoticized, or reduced to narrative shorthand.

Queer characters have been present throughout the series—Thomas Nightingale, the emotionally reserved wizard, and Augustus “Gussie” Berrycloth-Young, a flamboyant figure in The Masquerades of Spring. Yet their romantic or sexual lives are treated with restraint, stylization, or humor. Nightingale’s queerness is acknowledged but rarely explored with emotional intimacy. Gussie is rendered as a campy, comedic figure whose attraction to men is more implied than deeply felt.

In contrast, Stone & Sky devotes significant narrative space to Abigail Kamara’s emotional and romantic attraction to Ione, a new female character. Abigail’s feelings are described with vivid emotional texture—her longing, her confusion, her desire. This disparity raises a critical question: why is a teenage girl’s same-sex attraction rendered with such depth, while adult queer male relationships remain emotionally muted?

Abigail is portrayed as a teenager in Stone & Sky, though her exact age is never explicitly stated. Based on the series’ internal timeline, she was born in 2000, which would make her 24 or 25 if the book is set in 2024–2025. However, the tone of the narrative—and the way her emotional development is framed—suggests she is still in her late teens. 

The narrative lingers on Abigail’s feelings for Ione in a way that feels less like a teenager discovering her identity and more like an adult imagining what that discovery might feel like. The emotional intensity, combined with the sensual framing, risks crossing into voyeurism -- especially given that the author, a white man in his 60s, is writing from the perspective of a teenage girl.

Writing across lines of identity—age, gender, race, sexuality—is not inherently problematic. But it requires care, humility, and a deep understanding of the lived experiences being portrayed. When a teenage girl’s romantic feelings are described with more emotional and sensual detail than any adult relationship in the series, it raises questions about authorial intent.

Is this Abigail’s authentic voice, or is it Aaronovitch’s projection of what a teenage girl might feel? The line between empathy and appropriation is thin, and in Stone & Sky, it feels increasingly blurred. The result is a portrayal that risks centering the author’s imagination more than the character’s truth. Back to Abigail’s voice in a moment.

Complicating matters further is the fact that Ione is not just a girl—she’s a siren, a magical being capable of manipulating human emotion through song. This raises a fundamental question: is Abigail’s attraction to Ione genuine, or is it the result of magical influence?

If Ione’s presence or voice can enchant anyone, then Abigail’s feelings may not be uniquely queer—or even uniquely hers. They could be induced, universal, or illusory. The narrative does not clearly interrogate this possibility, instead presenting Abigail’s emotional / hormonal / pheromonal experience as unquestionably real. This ambiguity undermines the authenticity of the queer representation the book seems to offer. If the attraction is magically induced, then it’s not a story about queer identity—it’s a story about manipulation and consent.  Is Abigail truly consenting if she’s under the influence of glamour?  Ione is presented as being at least 18 and heading off to uni – which further complicates the consent issue.  

The Rivers of London universe is populated with magical beings—faeries, selkies, talking foxes, river gods—who often serve as metaphors for marginalized or misunderstood communities. While this can be a powerful narrative device, it also risks reinforcing stereotypes through fantasy proxies.

The fae are portrayed as beautiful and emotionally distant; the foxes as tribal and cunning; the rivers as territorial and often exoticized. These portrayals can feel like stand-ins for real-world racial, ethnic, or social groups—especially when their behaviors are framed through suspicion or danger. As Borowska-Szerszun (2021) notes, Aaronovitch’s work attempts to challenge the “habits of Whiteness” in fantasy fiction but also reveals the “friction and negotiation” involved in representing difference.

When magical beings are used to explore social issues without naming them directly, it creates a safe distance for the author but also a lack of accountability in how those metaphors land.

Characterization of voice, intelligence and other traits is another very noticeable part of “Rivers of London.”  I remember the first time that I read D.H. Lawrence and couldn’t understand the dialect representation of the “lower class” manner of speaking.  Aaronovitch frequently and unevenly represents Jamaican patois, Scottish, Irish and Caribbean English phonetically as “dialect,” while “standard” British or American English is not, implying a linguistic norm and effectively othering some of the characters.  Using this technique can reinforce caricatures or reduce characters to their accents.  It also creates a power imbalance in representation – regional or ethnic pronunciations are marked as “different” or “exotic” while others are normalized.  

For example, more than in previous books in the series, Abigail’s dialogue is peppered with contemporary London slang, including terms like “bare,” “peng,” and “peak,” which are common in Multicultural London English (MLE). This is consistent with her earlier portrayals as a sharp, streetwise teen from South London who is very smart, picks up Latin and is training to be a wizard. However, in this novel, the use of slang feels exaggerated—almost performative—and stands in contrast to the way other young characters speak. Ione and her cousin Duncan, despite being close in age to Abigail, speak in a more neutral, almost formal tone (aside from occasional “Scottish as dialect” representations).

This inconsistency raises questions about why Abigail’s voice is so heavily stylized. Is it meant to emphasize her “urban” identity? If so, it risks reducing her to a stereotype—especially when other characters of similar age and background are not written with the same linguistic markers. It also reinforces a sense of “othering” within the narrative: Abigail becomes the “voice of the streets,” while others are allowed to speak more generically.

Rather shockingly – there are assertions made about the communication abilities or styles of other species / characters in the book.  The selkies—mythical seal-people—are depicted as unable to speak English. Instead, they “bark,” and their communication is described in animalistic terms. This portrayal strips them of linguistic agency and positions them as less-than-human, even though they are sentient beings with their own culture, and clearly intelligent enough to be pursued and enslaved/indentured to work on deep marine oil projects. 

This is compounded by a moment in which Beverley Brook, a river goddess and Peter’s wife, mentions attempts to communicate with bottle-nose whales—and dismisses them as “kind of stupid.”  While this may be intended as a humorous aside, it reinforces a troubling pattern: magical or non-human beings are often portrayed as primitive, unintelligent, or linguistically inferior, especially when they don’t conform to human (and specifically English-speaking) norms.

The portrayal of the talking foxes adds another layer to this critique. These creatures are shown to be technologically advanced—they have specially adapted tools to access the internet, maintain networks with humans for medical care and transportation, and operate with a high degree of autonomy. Yet Peter remarks, “if someone taught them to be spies then their teachers left some major gaps in their vocabulary.” This line, while humorous, undermines the foxes’ intelligence and agency.

Moreover, the foxes’ speech is rendered in a simplified, stylized dialect. They use phrases like “big diggy thing” instead of “boring machine,” which may initially seem charming or whimsical. But this linguistic reduction can also be read as a form of intentional infantilization—a way of making their intelligence appear quaint or incomplete. It’s possible Aaronovitch intended this as a commentary on how the foxes perceive human language, or even as a subversive joke about humans needing things “dumbed down.” But without clear narrative framing, it risks reinforcing the very stereotypes it might be trying to critique.

In effect, the foxes are presented as a paradox: technologically sophisticated, yet linguistically and culturally “othered.” Their dialect becomes a marker of difference, and their intelligence is constantly undercut by the way they are spoken about—and made to speak. This mirrors broader patterns in literature where dialect is used to signal inferiority or exoticism, especially when applied unevenly across characters.

This kind of framing echoes real-world colonial and racial narratives, where language and intelligence have historically been used as tools of dehumanization and domination. When magical beings are denied language—or mocked for their perceived lack of intelligence—it reinforces a hierarchy in which human (and often white, Western) characters are the default standard of intellect and civility.

In a series that otherwise tries to explore multiculturalism and magical diversity, this kind of portrayal feels regressive. It undermines the richness of the magical world by reducing some of its inhabitants to caricatures or comic relief.

Finally, let’s address a few of the larger, overarching tropes including the “Immortal White Wizard.” Thomas Nightingale, born in 1900, is over 120 years old in the Rivers of London timeline. Yet due to magical intervention, he appears to be in his early 40s—an ageless, elegant figure at the peak of his physical and magical power. He is consistently portrayed as the most powerful practitioner, the calm center of magical authority, and the one who saves the day when things spiral out of control.

In contrast, Peter Grant—young, Black, and the series’ protagonist—is often associated with chaos, improvisation, and collateral damage. His investigations are messy, his magic unpredictable, and his victories often come at a cost. While this may reflect a more modern, fallible hero archetype, it also reinforces a troubling dynamic: the older white man as the eternal, infallible guardian, and the younger man of color as the well-meaning but unstable apprentice.

This dynamic is further complicated by the fact that Nightingale’s age is magically concealed, allowing him to retain the visual and narrative authority of a man in his prime, while Peter is constantly reminded of his limitations—by others and by the narrative itself. For example, someone mentions that they “pulled a Peter” in the story.  Ouch.

Why does the old white man get to be timeless, powerful, and composed, while the younger Black protagonist is framed as volatile and reactive? This imbalance echoes a long tradition in fantasy literature where wisdom, power, and control are embodied in white, male, often aristocratic figures, while characters of color are positioned as learners, disruptors, or comic relief.

I also saw that the canon namechecking to be rather overbearing and too “insider-y” to be enjoyable.  Throughout Stone & Sky, Aaronovitch peppers the narrative with references to iconic figures and franchises—almost all of them white and male:

• Star Trek (Gene Roddenberry)
• Saruman (J.R.R. Tolkien)
• John Connor (Terminator)
• Darth Vader (Star Wars)
• Peter Capaldi (Doctor Who)
• The Lord of the Rings (“One does not simply…”)
• Neil Gaiman, referenced via the phrase “Neil Gaiman black”

These references are often used for humor or shorthand, but cumulatively, they reinforce a very narrow cultural canon—one that centers white male creators and their visions of fantasy, science fiction, and heroism.

This is especially jarring given the book’s attempt to foreground a young Black British girl as a protagonist. Why is Abigail—who is otherwise written with a distinct voice and cultural identity—constantly filtered through the lens of white male geek culture? Why not reference Octavia Butler, N.K. Jemisin, Marjorie Liu, or even Afrofuturist icons like Sun Ra or Janelle Monáe?

Even the reference to “Neil Gaiman black” is problematic— not only because it reduces a complex aesthetic to a single figure, but also because Gaiman himself has faced recent criticism for his public behavior and comments. In a book that already struggles with authenticity in voice and representation, this kind of namechecking feels less like homage and more like cultural defaulting—a reliance on the familiar, rather than an effort to expand the canon or reflect the diversity of its characters.

A quick visit to any online forum or fan site will reveal that many longtime readers have noted that the series has become increasingly formulaic. Each book introduces a magical disturbance, a new creature or system, and a procedural investigation that resolves with a mix of magic and logic. In Stone & Sky, this formula is stretched even thinner. The early chapters focus heavily on a family camping trip, with little narrative urgency or magical intrigue.

While this may be an attempt to deepen character relationships or explore quieter moments, it contributes to a sense of narrative drift. The stakes feel lower, the pacing more meandering, and the once-vibrant magical world increasingly routine.  There’s simply too much padding in this book.

One recurring distraction in Stone & Sky is the level of detail devoted to what characters are wearing and how they look—often with commentary that feels judgmental, class-coded, or simply unnecessary. For example, a character named Mason is described in terms that go beyond observation and veer into critique:

“He was a short white man in his early thirties, brown hair, curls on top and short at the sides that didn't really suit a square face with a prominent nose and thin lips. At least his head matched the rest of him - broad shoulders, short legs, but a much better suit than I would have risked wearing to work. Dark brown wool, bought off the shelf, I reckoned, but then tailored. Despite the weather, he wore a lambswool pullover over his shirt.”

Peter is mixed-race, younger and from a working-class background -- why would he be even care if someone’s suit was bought “off the rack” and then tailored? I understand he wouldn’t want to risk wearing expensive clothing to work since he often ends up in situations where his clothing is damaged – but why would that matter in a passing evaluation of another person in a different role?

Descriptions like this don’t just paint a picture—they evaluate the character’s appearance, often through the narrator’s subjective lens and many of these observations come across as mean-spirited or superficial, especially when repeated across multiple characters. These moments rarely advance the plot or deepen character insight. Instead, they feel like narrative padding—a way to fill space rather than build momentum.

This kind of detail might have worked better in a graphic novel, where visual storytelling could convey these elements more efficiently and with more nuance. Given the success of the Rivers of London graphic novels, it’s easy to imagine Stone & Sky functioning more effectively in that format—especially given its visual settings, magical creatures, and dual perspectives.

Final Thoughts: Stone & Sky attempts to expand the emotional and magical scope of the Rivers of London universe, but in doing so, it exposes several representational and structural weaknesses. Queer male characters are emotionally sidelined; a queer teen girl’s feelings are spotlighted with intensity that may not be her own. Magical beings are used as metaphors for social difference, but often in ways that reinforce rather than challenge stereotypes. Linguistic choices—from stylized slang to infantilizing dialect—further complicate the portrayal of identity and intelligence.

The series’ once-fresh formula is losing strength and its cultural references remain narrowly focused on white male creators. Even as it strives for diversity, Stone & Sky often defaults to familiar tropes and voices—leaving its most radical possibilities unexplored.

Aaronovitch’s work has always aimed to be inclusive. But inclusion without critical self-awareness can lead to distortion. If Stone & Sky is meant to be a story of queer awakening, magical discovery, and emotional growth, it needs to ask harder questions—about power, about authenticity, and about who gets to tell whose story.

References (Other than the "Rivers of London" related books):

Borowska-Szerszun, S. (2021). Ethnic and cultural diversity in Ben Aaronovitch’s urban fantasy cycle Rivers of London. Journal of Contemporary Literature, 12(3), 45–62. Retrieved from https://www.researchgate.net/publication/335318094

Follypedia. (2023). Abigail Kamara. Retrieved from https://follypedia.fandom.com/wiki/Abigail_Kamara 

Follypedia. (2023). Thomas Nightingale. Retrieved from https://follypedia.fandom.com/wiki/Thomas_Nightingale

© 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:The Gods Time Forgot by Kelsie Sheridan Gonzalez (2-stars)

 I came to The Gods Time Forgot via NetGalley, lured by the promise of Irish war goddesses and warriors. The mythology is frustratingly thin on the ground.

What you get instead is a lot of Gilded Age New York social maneuvering — and to be fair, I can see what Gonzalez was going for, using the rigid constraints on wealthy women as a parallel to the shifting alliances and power struggles of the mythological source material. It's a reasonable idea. But the execution buries it. Roughly 20% of this novel is outfit description. Twenty percent. That's pages and pages that could have gone to actual plot, actual magic, actual Irish mythology.

The central romance is similarly elusive. By the end I was genuinely uncertain whether the main characters had sex or just got naked in a library together. The whole book has that quality — gesturing toward passion and danger without quite committing to either. Honestly, the Gilded Age setting and the watered-down stakes would have worked just as well with a schoolteacher and a construction worker as leads; the aristocratic trappings feel like decoration rather than necessity.

Read it as YA and you'll have a better time.

REVIEW:The Gods Time Forgot by Kelsie Sheridan Gonzalez 

RATING: 2-stars

REVIEW: The City and Its Uncertain Walls by Haruki Murakami (2-stars)

Have you ever had a dream where you thought you woke up, but you were still dreaming, analyzing the previous part of the dream? This book feels like a giant dream journal, pieced together from leftover dreams and previous works. The result is confusing, dreary, depressing, and plotless—like a battleship grey, lifeless version of someone's dream life. It's just not fun or interesting.

All the typical Murakami elements are here: memory, loss, middle-aged men pining for teen love interests. I thought I liked Haruki Murakami as an author, but this book is making me reconsider. He may think he's a peer to Gabriel Garcia Marquez's magical-realist style, quoting Love in the Time of Cholera in the last section, but The City and Its Uncertain Walls is definitely in the fantasy and surrealist genres.

The book is divided into three parts. The first part is the longest, a rambling and incoherent mess of time skips between the protagonist as a teenager and his first love, and his entry into nameless city which requires a hefty fee of separating from one's shadow and getting stabbed in the eyes (so he can "work" as a Dreamreader of old dreams). Both teens seem to suffer from major depressive disorder. This part could easily be halved. The second part represents the protagonist's transition after helping his shadow escape from the nameless town with sentient walls. He wakes up in his own life, quits his job, and moves to a rural town as the head librarian. The third part covers his interactions with the ghost, cafe owner, librarian, and an autistic boy at the library (aka M**** or Yellow Submarine Boy).  It's possible that Yellow Submarine boy doesn't actually exist -- and is yet another shadow of our primary protagonist but that's never fully fleshed out.

The protagonist's life is described as masking: interacting with people because that's what one does, but internally, he is deeply depressed. The writing is stilted and awkward at times. For example, the town is only referred to as Z***, and the cafe owner, who becomes the protagonist's love interest, doesn't even get a name but has a rock-hard body shaper acting as a chastity belt. This feels like a repeat of the teen romance—our protagonist will wait and wait. His lack of engagement and commitment seems to have destroyed his past relationships. He drifts along aimlessly, like a spineless sea creature.

The most interesting character is Mr. Koyasu, the scion of the local sake brewer who set up a private library and manages it for the town of Z*** until his death. He continues supporting the library as a ghost until they hire the protagonist as the head librarian. Mr. Koyasu could have been the primary subject of a much shorter version of this novel.

Overall, the book feels lifeless, colorless, and flavorless. The only foods mentioned are a few kinds of tea, apples and apple cake, coffee, blueberry muffins, and fried egg. Even the descriptions of sounds feel like throwaways, as if added at the editor's suggestion. Essentially, the protagonist is living his life inside a boring box, passing time and struggling to discern reality from dream.

Ultimately, The City and Its Uncertain Walls feels like a self-indulgent exercise that wastes the reader's time. Murakami's reliance on familiar themes and motifs, combined with a meandering and incoherent plot, results in a lifeless and colorless narrative. While some may find value in his introspective style, this novel fails to deliver the engaging and magical experience that many have come to expect from his work. For those seeking a captivating story, this book is likely to disappoint.

REVIEW: The City and Its Uncertain Walls by Haruki Murakami 

RATING: 2-stars

REVIEW: Medieval Cats: Claws, Paws and Kitties of Yore by Catherine Nappington (4-stars)

Thanks to NetGalley for sharing this ARC for me to enjoy on a cold rainy caturday. 

Really enjoyable, light read with plenty of interesting tidbits.  I wonder if the final book will include an appendix or go through a fact checker.  The claim that Pope Gregory's call to kill cats resulted in the Black Plague is a myth.  I also am curious why the Clan Chattan wildcat and motto "Touch not the cat" are not included as it is of medieval origin.  

Many of the cats have human looking faces - which is weird - and a lot of pictures of cats licking their butts.  Fun compendium and would make a nice gift book. 

REVIEW: Medieval Cats: Claws, Paws and Kitties of Yore by Catherine Nappington 

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: The Future by Naomi Alderman (4-stars)

 In my quest to distance myself from the surplus of dark, dystopian fiction portraying grim futures, I've sought narratives with a more positive outlook. I chose to read this book to explore the author's vision of the future following the redistribution of power through the abduction of several influential figures.

Similar to Alderman's previous work, "The Power," this new novel delves into a critical examination of societal structures, power imbalances, and the impact of technology and greed on human behavior and the planet. The characters grapple with ethical dilemmas as they find themselves uniquely positioned to instigate substantial positive change.

In contrast to Shakespeare’s "Julius Caesar," the conspirators in this tale successfully counter tyranny, avert environmental destruction, and catalyze numerous positive transformations in the world.

A mixed chronology is employed by the author to establish multiple narrative hooks. If you're accustomed to a sequential chronology in your media consumption, this book may pose a challenge to your expectations.

Readers who enjoy the interactive nature of "Choose Your Own Adventure" or appreciate works like “Rayuela,” along with language enthusiasts treating books as tools, might relish the mental challenge of assembling the narrative pieces. For those who, like me, explore books as tools, skipping around and investigating, a rewarding discovery awaits at the end:

“Zhen, I found it. I know you loved up in secret fuck cave or whatever, love is great. When you want to know the truth, email me. mariuszugravescu@gmail.com"

An email to that address is rewarded with an auto response that is very gratifying in an old-school “multimedia” sort of way that fills in a partial “who dunnit” for those of us who don’t believe the concept of “spoilers” exists (see the end of my review).

Since I’m currently enrolled in a product development and marketing class, and I’m thinking in terms of score cards – here are some of the things that came to mind when reading this book over the weekend.  Here are some of the archetypes that I ticked off my list for this reading:

Archetypes Explored:

• The Hero's Journey: The inner circle orchestrating the disappearance of powerful figures embodies the hero's journey archetype, ushering in positive change.
• The Trickster: Both conspirators and billionaires pursue specific outcomes, with differing goals—individualistic for the billionaires and pro-social for the conspirators.
• The Rebellion Against Tyranny: The classic archetype of rebelling against tyranny is explored, but the conversion of conspirators against billionaires raises skepticism about their altruistic motivations.

Character Development:

• The Sacrifice: Characters compromise integrity for the greater good, exemplified by sending loved ones to a well-provisioned island for indefinite entrapment.
• The Fall from Grace: Instead of proving the wrongdoing of billionaires, a scenario is staged for their disappearance, allowing societal and environmental changes in their names.

Narrative Elements:

• Cultural Details: Attention to detail varies, with vivid scenes like the Singapore shopping mall contrasting with less engaging aspects such as the Enochite cult and message board descriptions.
• Technology and Environment: Technology and environmental descriptions are mainly conveyed through "telling," with the notable exception of the engaging "happymeal" implementation.
• Character Dynamics: Martha's character, portrayed as somewhat villainous, could benefit from more development. The challenge lies in the narrative primarily unfolding from Zhen's perspective, limiting insight into other conspirators.
• Symbolism and Themes: The Fox vs. Rabbit concept is richly woven into the story, but the tale of Martha and the bear is symbolic, representing her "coming of age" rather than a literal event.

The Shortcomings:

• Character Development:  Overall development of the four primary conspirators was thin – and the billionaires were very thin.  The majority of the character development was spent on Martha, followed by Zhen.  As primary actors in the conspiracy – Selah, Badger and Arthur fell flat – while Zhen’s friend Marius had more sparkle and interesting development. 
• Forced Diversity: The author includes non-heteronormative characters, but the relevance of their queerness is not relevant to the plot.  Aside from mentioning that Selah is straight, heterosexuality and gender binary are still the assumed default in this story.  Although lip service is paid to non-heteronormative characters (they gay billionaire ousted tech CEO, the enby antifa child of a tech CEO, lesbian survivalist and lesbian child of a survivalist cult leader “gal Friday” of tech CEO) – I’m not getting a strong sense of how Arthur’s homosexuality really matters in this story.  I can’t imagine that the near future is still so accepting of gay billionaires, lesbian survivalists and enby Antifa activists that we have to mention their orientation or gender identity – without doing the same for heterosexual characters. 
• Cultural Details:Attention to detail was really fantastic in some areas – like the highly detailed scene in the Singapore shopping mall, but the Enochite cult and the message board details were so much “tell” and not show.  The retelling of the Bible stories was entertaining but also felt a lot like filler.
• Character Dynamics: I wanted to see more of Martha as a primary character so that I can cheer for her – but she’s still played off as a bit of a villain (even at the end, Zhen sees a “heavyset figure” – when her physical shape wasn’t mentioned earlier).  Arthur “tells” us the tension for Martha (i.e., father figure issues).  Zhen’s security / safety and mother issues are also narrated for us throughout.  

One of the challenges of this book is that it’s told primarily from the perspective of a very interesting but non-primary character, Zhen.  Yes, she’s an important part of the plot as she was used as a guinea pig to create a potentially fatal proof-of-concept demonstration for technology that was used to persuade the billionaires of its efficacy (and a critical part of the means of duping them).  

Overall development of the four primary conspirators is thin – with Martha (the lover of Zhen) having considerably more character development, followed by Badger, Selah and Arthur.  Their stories are often told in third person, not through Zhen’s perspective.  Selah and Badger feel pretty “flat”. 

Symbolism and Themes: In addition to the whole Fox (hunter gatherer) vs Rabbit (farmer) concepts spread thickly across the story – the story about Martha and the bear was not actually about a bear.  Think about it:  the “bear” didn’t exist.  It was her “coming of age” and the bear with the rotten jaw represented her father.   

Just a little bit of research (or talking to anyone who goes hiking in the Western US) would tell you:  black bears are typically the least aggressive and smallest bears found in the US, any survivalist (or child in California) would know you don’t climb a tree to get away from a bear. Bears don’t typically suffer from dental disease.  If the bear wasn’t scared by the arrival of two people in a pickup truck – and was really starving – why not attack those people?  

The whole fantasy of climbing up a tree to evade and fatally wounding a skinny, young black bear before hibernation is just a weird detail that didn’t work for me unless you just look at it as symbolism.

The Strengths:

• Unique Narrative Structure: The the mixed chronology and the use of multiple narrative hooks,  was a lot of fun.  I liked the inclusion of the chatboard content but maybe a bit less of that would have allowed for more character development.  This narrative structure might challenge readers accustomed to a more sequential chronology.
• Interactive Element: The inclusion of private messages added an intriguing layer to the narrative, revealing character motivations and potential conflicts.
• Thematic Exploration: The book successfully explored themes of societal structures, power imbalances, and the impact of technology and greed on human behavior and the planet.
• Engaging Scenes: Scenes like the one in the Singapore shopping mall had a ton of details and played really well as an action film scene (leave it to a Doctor Who fan!).  As a great example of “showing” rather than “telling” -- the implementation of the "happymeal" worm in various social media platforms was well executed. 

Here's the text from the email bounceback; sharing it here because one never knows how long the email will continue to function: 

<spoiler>

Private message log from ntd/enoch

> ArturoMegadog

Look, I can't say this publicly on the forum but I am actually very sympathetic to your point of view here. Lai Zhen never should have said what she said. Someone needs to teach her a lesson. 

> SavedByEnoch

I just want to meet her. I want to tell her what I think face to face. She ought to be afraid. 

> ArturoMegadog

Right, I think that's all we're talking about isn't it? Just scaring her. So she won't go near any of this ever again. 

> SavedByEnoch

Enoch's teachings helped me believe there was a future for me again. She's a worthless piece of shit. 

> ArturoMegadog

Yeah no I get that. We all need to believe in a future. So listen, I do have a way you can track her. I mean it's not hard to get in touch with her, she has all her speaking engagements listed on her website. But if you need to track her down to have a more private conversation... just to scare her, right? I can help you with that. 

> SavedByEnoch

I'll know what to do when I see her. 

>ArturoMegadog

OK, looking at the schedule... how do you feel about a trip to Singapore? 

</spoiler>

REVIEW: The Future by Naomi Alderman 

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: Real Flow: Break the Burnout Cycle and Unlock High Performance in the New World of Work by Brandi Olson (4-stars)

This book covers three important topics critical for the health of an organization and, ultimately, its success. The integral, systems approach is a mainstay of digital transformation - but that topic can be difficult to tackle. Brandi Olson approaches the topic in accessible language, with excellent illustrations -- both graphics and metaphorical.

Much of what she describes is not new: Max Weber and Emile Durkheim, among others, wrote about these kinds of issues over 100 years ago.

Olson issues a challenge: "you (and everyone else) will need to stop settling for the appearance of productivity and performance rather than the real thing."

The author describes the challenges faced in organizations and low-key leads up to a discussion of the roots of corporate culture in a white supremacist, colonialist mindset which not only results in overworked, burned out employees but which also perpetuates the same dysfunctional system, reinforcing the lack of diversity of cultures, people and ideas.

"Burnout is energy-consuming and self-perpetuating. It fosters a monoculture: if everyone is operating on a burned-out and overworked level, no one has the brain capacity to think that perhaps things could and should be different."

Most organizations respond to symptoms -- burned out employees are compelled to use up their vacation time before the year-end, company potlucks or online "coffee/happy hour" chats (or worse: Yammer) substitute for connection and culture. More is seen as "better" and forcing employees to jump between many different projects always leads to no clear successes or improvements.

What organizations fail to realize is that “peak performance means making the greatest possible impact over the longest period of time.” That means addressing root causes -- finding the smallest changes you can make that will have the biggest impact (Pareto principal), implementing changes incrementally and iteratively to have time to reflect on the impact throughout the ecosystem (ie "butterfly effect"), and avoiding toxic perfectionism ("better > best").

"Flow is the experience of energy, creativity, and value moving from ideas to results throughout your entire organization." This is achieved by making your work visible throughout the organization -- put it on KanBan boards, for example (or open up access in Confluence to all enterprise users).

In John Doerr's "Measure What Matters," he similarly advocates for cross-functional sharing of goals so that individuals, teams, departments and divisions can work together to ensure they all help each other meet their goals (and thus all the company/enterprise level goals).

When an organization is "flooding" -- they are taking a shotgun approach which may inevitably result in some losses: limiting growth opportunities, trapping people in a "wash, rinse, repeat" or dooming teams to failure like Lucy's chocolate factory speed-up.

Olson offers a lot of practical tips to get people thinking differently about how to identify the challenges and keep track of the work: switch from small screens & spreadsheets to big whiteboards or walls, establish "work in progress" (WIP) limits. Olson's analogy on how a WIP functions:

"Have you ever been to one of those gigantic waterslides where you first spend 25 minutes climbing up six stories, only to whoosh down the slide in approximately 93 seconds? Have you ever noticed that, in order to keep everyone safe, they have a one person on the slide limit?"

Work that has been started but not finished is a big liability - it represents unrealized value (and may end up as waste). This is why prioritization is critical -- but rather than prioritize, many organizations would prefer to continue piling up the work and ignore the costs in turnover as people burn out from constantly being spread too thin or having to switch projects too frequently.

"Productivity without outcomes is not real productivity." Building a bridge is an output while people safely crossing that bridge is an outcome. Migrating a website to a new content management system is an output while enabling marketing team members to update their own pages quickly is an outcome. "Outputs answer the question, How will we do it? Outcomes answer the question, Why does this matter?" -- or "When can we open the champagne?"

Olson also talks about the importance of focus and the damage of "multi-tasking" -- an organization that is flooding is multitasking across the enterprise, busy without achieving meaningful outcomes.

Let's jump ahead to characteristics of white supremacy work culture outlined in “White Supremacy Culture” --

1. Perfectionism - focusing on what doesn't work, punishing people for mistakes, not leaving room for learning and continuous improvement.
2. Sense of Urgency - everything is a "high priority" where I work, probably where you work, too. "There is little time for thoughtful decision-making, short-term fixes come with long-term costs."
3. Quantity over Quality - conflict avoidant environments with a focus on productivity and output over EQ and the underlying mechanics that enable the establishment of teams with high levels of trust where creativity can flourish.
4. Document-Driven Communication - leaves little time for conversations and exploration.

A key takeaway:

"By making work visible, limiting work in progress, and being clear on prioritization, you can create time, focus, and energy for teams to have difficult conversations, get to know each other personally, build trust, and identify significant opportunities for learning how to do and be better."

As the author states: the future of work is PEOPLE - who need to be in environments designed to for cross-functional collaborative teams where they can develop trust and work toward shared outcomes:

• The team must have all the cross-functional skills and expertise to do the work from start to finish
• The team must work together long term
• The work must be transparent so the team can be in flow

There is no such thing as "best practices" -- start by identifying what you do now, create a map of your ecosystem. Make improvements - better not best., and don't obsess with a "big bang" of fixing "all the things."

"If everything changes at once, you’ll overwhelm the system and slow down learning."

"...empower people to do their best work, solve problems, and be better leaders—no matter where they are in the organization."

"better is always better than best."

REVIEW: Real Flow: Break the Burnout Cycle and Unlock High Performance in the New World of Work by Brandi Olson 

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: Vegan Africa: Plant-Based Recipes from Ethiopia to Senegal by Marie Kacouchia (4-stars)

This book is beautiful:  the photos, layout and fonts are all a pleasure to the eye.  There are several really strong recipes that are very eye catching, such as "Cauliflower Tabbouleh with Pistachio and Lemon Confit" -- which I cannot wait to put into action. Some of the simplest recipes sound the most appealing - like sauteed spinach, mushrooms & ripe plantains.  Plantain beignets sound really amazing as do the "Sweet Pepper and Corn Cakes" and I will be planning a meal from this book very soon.

The recipes are very accessible -- some much more than others, making me wonder about the target audience for this book.  Some of the recipes remind me of recipes in a book about ancient Roman dining -- particularly the "Cauliflower Yassa with Olives" and "Cumin Spiced Orange and Chickpea Salad" -- making me wonder about the cultural exchange between Africa and the ancient Romans.  

The main drawback of this book is that  there are a lot of filler recipes in the book such:  sprinkling the spice blend ras al hanout on popcorn, lemonade, iced tea, hot tea and avocado-based chocolate mousse.  

Some recipes assume access to items that might not be normally found in most grocery stores such as the "vegan brioche" called for in the Coconut-Lime French Toast -- Where?  Hook me up!   At least 3 recipes call for harissa.   There's no recipe for harissa in the book, which feels like a loss. Likewise leaving out instructions for creating your own "ras al hanout."

Overall - this is a good starter book for someone who is not an experienced cook and there are enough novel recipes for people who are not lucky enough to have grown up with this kind of food to keep experienced cooks interested. 

REVIEW: Vegan Africa: Plant-Based Recipes from Ethiopia to Senegal by Marie Kacouchia 

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: Rare Trees: The Fascinating Stories of the World’s Most Threatened Species by Sara Oldfield (5-stars)

I was thrilled to receive an advance copy of Rare Trees. As someone who loves trees, I hoped for a book that combined striking visuals with clear, accessible information—and this volume exceeded my expectations.

With its National Geographic–quality photography and encyclopedia-style detail, Rare Trees is both visually stunning and deeply informative. It’s the kind of book that invites readers to linger over its pages, making it equally at home as a coffee table centerpiece or an educational resource.

What impressed me most was the thoughtful conclusion: a concise, one-page list of practical steps readers can take to support trees and the environment. The inclusion of lifestyle suggestions—such as reducing meat and dairy consumption—shows the author’s commitment to connecting beauty with action.

This is a gorgeous, inspiring book that will appeal to adults and children alike. I can’t wait to see it in print and share it with others. 

REVIEW: Rare Trees: The Fascinating Stories of the World’s Most Threatened Species by Sara Oldfield 

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: Rest is Resistance by Tricia Hersey (5 stars)

The dangers of rest to the dominant paradigm have been well known for millennia. Centuries ago Aesop and other writers described the story of the “Ant and the Grasshopper” as a cautionary tale. For hundreds of years – strikes and work stoppages have been the primary means of resisting the demands of productivity demanded by Capital. People put down their tools and walked off the job and out the factory doors. Truck drivers block ports with their vehicles.  Work stoppage has long been a means of resisting the dehumanizing effects of capitalism.  

“Capitalism commodifies whatever it can and doesn’t allow space for us to experience the full spectrum of being human.”

“We are socialized into systems that cause us to conform and believe our worth is connected to how much we can produce.”

“Fear and scarcity are a big part of how the culture keeps us bound up in the hamster wheel.”

Tricia Hersey’s new book is part auto-biography, part history book and part sermon, offering us a lens for resistance of the dehumanizing, deleterious effects of capitalism & the cult of “productivity” that is womanist, liberationist and at the same time deeply validating of both the need to disconnect for dreaming & private thoughts and of community.  

Hersey makes her keen observations in a style of a song: intro, verse, chorus, verse, chorus, verse, chorus, outro.  

She doesn’t need to expand too much on her verses – it’s not novel information for her audience.  It’s the repetition and the chorus – the soothing reassurance that “You are not unworthy. The systems are unworthy.” 

Deep inside, people know:

“ we didn’t arrive on Earth to be a tool for a capitalist system.” … It is not our divine purpose. […] You were not just born to center your entire existence on work and labor.”

The effects of this fatigue remove community and intellectual agency – turning us into machines: 

“When you are exhausted, you lack clarity and the ability to see deeply. Your intuition and imagination are stifled by a culture of overworking and disconnection."

“[…] stealing your imagination and time, grind culture has stolen the ability for pleasure, hobbies, leisure, and experimentation.”

Black liberation and womanism are woven throughout the book – her message that “Black liberation is human liberation” is strong and consistent.  The goal of capitalism and white supremacy is to strip away the humanity – it’s essentially reductionist and isolating.

“Black liberation is a balm for all humanity and this message is for all those suffering from the ways of white supremacy and capitalism.”

If you are reading this book and feel that the topics of white supremacy and black liberation are a bit heavy – you have a lot more work to do before you can well and truly appreciate what is being communicated in this book.

The goal of this work is to decolonize your mind and enable a culture shift.  If your reaction to creating a nap practice, making time for day dreaming or resting as resistance is to immediately think of slackers, freeloaders and laziness – you’re falling into racist stereotypes as well as white supremacist programming. 

“We have been bamboozled. This is why it’s so critical that we create systems of care to help people dismantle and decolonize their minds.”

“We are resting not to do more and to come back stronger and more productive for a capitalist system.”

The loudest chorus in this book is that you don’t have to always be “productive” – and that busyness reduces your ability to heal, dream and tap into your imagination. Even Hersey’s grandmother would rest with her eyes closed and reminded her granddaughter that every shut eye was not asleep.  We close our eyes to reduce distraction and focus inward on our own experience whether it’s breathing in meditation or processing feelings or enjoying the fragrance of a flower (to name a few). 

• “Resting is not a state of inactivity or a waste of time. Rest is a generative space.”
• “Naps provide a portal to imagine, invent, and heal.”
• “Rest is not a luxury, privilege, or a bonus we must wait for once we are burned out.”
• “Rest is not a privilege because our bodies are still our own, no matter what the current systems teach us.”
• “Your bodies don’t belong to capitalism, to white supremacy, or to the patriarchy.”

Social media is another area covered by various choruses throughout the book.  Just as a reminder:  where anything is “free” – you are the product.  Hersey rightly points out that social media is a marketing tool and an extension of capitalism. “The goal is to keep you scrolling long enough that you become a consumer. The goal is for you to buy, buy some more, and stay on as long as possible until that happens.”  Social media “is a space of dependency” and “robbing us of the archives and memory. Taking from us the ability to go to the past for guidance, motivation, and grounding.”

Hersey highlights the disruptive nature of social media and how it has absorbed “our quiet time” – and urges us to “detox intentionally and often if we are to find rest.”

Our challenge is to “spiritually disconnect from the shenanigans of grind culture while physically still living in it.” Establish healthy boundaries, resist responding right away to email or social media. Reject urgency.

“You cannot achieve deep rest in a consistent way if we don’t detox regularly from social media and the internet. Technology is not built to support our rest or make space for our rest.”

Finally – you have to accept that you have been brainwashed.  You have been swimming in a pool of the dominant paradigm for so long, there’s no way it could be any other way.  The repetition in this book serves a purpose – to begin unspooling the cocoon that has been limiting us for so long so that we can claim our birthright.  

We are enough just as we are – we are enough because we exist.  We do not have to be productive, busy or constantly contributing.   There is no quick fix – dismantling millennia old mindsets and building communities of care takes time.  

“Our interconnectedness is a form of resistance in times thriving against the dehumanizing ways capitalism and white supremacy sees the world.”

“We will not heal alone. We will not thrive alone. Communal care is our saving grace and our communion. Community care will save us. It is already saving us.”

Hersey offers some places to begin:

- Intentionally and regularly detox from social media

- Learn boundaries – “heal the individual trauma you have experienced that makes it difficult for you to say no”

• Establish a “daily practice in daydreaming”
• “Slow down”
• “Listen more”
• “Create systems of community care”

Print out this quote and stick it up in your environment in a half dozen places:

1. I deserve to rest now. 

2. I am worthy of rest. 

3. I am not lazy. How could I be lazy? My Ancestors are too brilliant for that. 

4. Capitalism wants my body to be a machine. I am not a machine. 

5. I am a magical and divine human being. 

6. I have the right to resist grind culture. 

7. I don’t have to earn rest. 

8. Do less, watch how I thrive. 

9. Ease is my birthright. 

10. I Will Rest!”

“You don’t have to wait on permission from the dominant culture.”

“Grind culture is violence. Resist participating in it.” 

REVIEW: Rest is Resistance by Tricia Hersey (2022)

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: The Sensitive Ones: Healing and Understanding Your Child's Mental Health by Heather Nardi (2-stars)

I really enjoyed reading this book about the author's journey to find a path forward with her daughter's very young diagnosis of mental health issues at the age of 8 years old.  

The key recommendations are sound:  listen to your intuition, listen to your child, listen to your family, learn to be resilient and find comfort, strength and courage in modalities that feel right to you (within reason).

The book repeated a lot of information and I felt as though the author perpetuated some negative stereotypes or information even as she extolled the value of her own personal spiritual journey.  While she relates the story of a shift in her daughter at age 14 after being sent off to an in-patient clinical setting as having blossomed and grown into a highly sensitive empath, she still continues to refer to her daughter as having mental health issues.  

I felt like the author should choose -- is this a person with a mental health issue -- or is this a misunderstood sensitive empath? Sure, it can be both - but it seems to me that if she's quit all her medications, quit therapy and is using crystals and flower essences and coping mechanisms for resilience, maybe she isn't and never was suffering a mental health issue?

The author relates a story about how a social worker sent to her home interviewed her and said "I think that it's your parenting that is causing these issues."  The author was destroyed by this assessment - but then goes on to describe how her husband's more structured parenting style and her own laissez-faire style created confusion for her daughter and resulted in some of the behavior that was observed.  So, maybe, yes -- this was the result of contradictory parenting styles.  It's better to find out sooner than later -- and, I should imagine, if she's so self-aware and open minded that she's willing to seek out a medium and the advice of angels or ghosts, she might also be willing to examine how her own behavior and choices had an impact on her daughter. 

REVIEW: The Sensitive Ones: Healing and Understanding Your Child's Mental Health by Heather Nardi

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: Jay-Z: Made in America by Michael Eric Dyson (5-stars)

Humans have always been resourceful – they find ways to increase power and status, even when it means inventing and convincing others of the validity of something.  For example – at a time when France’s relative power and strength was troubled, Louis XIV basically invented “luxury” lifestyle and merchandise – fabrics, clothing, perfumes and furniture – in the 16th century, and his ambassadors became marketing managers, selling an idea that possessions of a certain quality meant something and inspiring the earliest fear of missing out that we see in modern marketing.

Michael Eric Dyson dives into the “art of hustle” in the first chapter – describing the ways that people, particularly African Americans in poor neighborhoods, have sought to find such niches to improve their circumstances and achieve financial and social success.  He talks about facets of types of hustle based on poverty and opportunity of location as integral to the black experience in the US.

Dyson’s writing works on many levels, skillfully interweaving biographical information about Jay-Z, biographical portraits of other artists, politicians and historical figures, social history, and literary analysis of the lyrics of Jay-Z and other artists.  

Throughout, there are references to conversations that Jay-Z and other artists have through the lyrics of their music – some are serious and some are light-hearted play acting or “dues.” 

Dyson also does a deep dive into masculinity and blackness – analyzing the Hegelian dynamics of Jay-Z and Beyonce’s musical conversations around the complexities of relationships between women and men.  

As a former language major – I really enjoyed Dyson’s analysis of Jay-Z’s lyrics in literary terms, summarized as an “extremely sophisticated romp on poetry’s playground of metaphor and metonymy, simile and synecdoche.”  Dyson dives into all the references to philosophy, history, politics and satire and summarizes as “Jay’s lyrical cleverness masks his deeper intellectual reflections on the world and on black culture itself.”

 “Jay’s openness to a variety of art forms and his understanding that common themes of existential struggle unite disparate genres of music. Thus one of his most successful songs, at a critical point in his career, features a sample from a Broadway musical that highlights the plight of poor, socially invisible children.”  

Jay-Z is a poet, a philosopher and has a strong political voice – which does not lessen as his popularity and success continue.  He’s the first rap artist to become a billionaire, and throughout his career – one where he never writes down his lyrics --  “Jay has also mastered a sneak-and-speak approach to political commentary, He laces his lyrics with pieces of social and political insight, from entire blocs of songs through extended metaphor to just a word or two.”

As Ken Burns highlighted in his documentary of country music in the US -- which featured mostly white artists -- the non-white artists he included stressed repeatedly "it's about the stories."  Hip-hop and rap are also about the stories, and shifting from stereotyped masculine swagger, avoidance of commitment and personal consumption.  There are women calling BS on men treating them poorly and even a young (gay) black artist whose "country trap" song quickly went up the Billboard charts as the most popular song in Billboard history.

Hip-hop / rap artists are not just telling their stories and shining light into the dark corners of our cultural consciousness, but they are working into the general conceptions of many concepts, such as who gets to enjoy "luxury" goods? (See https://www.businessoffashion.com/articles/intelligence/the-new-kings-and-queens-of-fashion-kanye-west-asap-rocky-cardi-b ) -- and importantly, they are changing the rules around power and status.

One of the most appealing traits of Dyson's writing is his passionate enthusiasm for Jay-Z's oeuvre --  his contextualization and analysis of Jay-Z’s music, achievements and life flows in a way that seems clear and almost obvious (as in "Of course it happened that way!").  Dyson provides a fantastic annotated discography at the end of this lovely synthesis of popular culture, history, capitalism and social class.  Or, as my friend Andre says – “Just listen to the music.” 

REVIEW: Jay-Z: Made in America by Michael Eric Dyson 

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: Dodging Energy Vampires: An Empath’s Guide to Evading Relationships That Drain You and Restoring Your Health and Power by Christiane Northrup (3-stars)

 Reading this book is like having a long chat with a very well informed confidante rather than a medical or psychology book.  I feel like a I have a strong sense of what the author is trying to achieve -- and she has a lot of good advice in this book, illustrated with stories from her life and her friends lives.  Yes, it's true - there's some woo-woo new age stuff in here but for the most part:  nothing in this book will cause harm or injury to anyone who practices her advice.  You might slightly alienate some of your friends and family if you start talking about violet flames and such -- those people can be just as annoying as the narcissists they are trying to avoid. 

The latter half of the book focuses more on self-care and offers a ton of practical advice.  I really like the advice about morning meditation and picturing all the things that can go right, and evening meditation to think about what you can learn throughout the day.  Her description of the benefits of deep breathing through the nose and the way that it stimulates the vagus nerve and shuts down negative self talk generated by your reptile brain is effective at a lay person's level.  

Christiane Northrup is a well educated and well intentioned writer and educator -- but she's also a very big business.  She has a ton of books and videos on her website, but she doesn't self promote herself as a consultant or reference her own books in this book.  Instead, she refers to a lot of other authors -- crediting them for their original ideas.  I found it charming that she referred to the person I most associate with horoscopes in the free local weekly newspaper as a "philosopher"  (Rob Brezsny authors "Free Will Astrology" and a book called "Pronoia").   

Most notably - she's wholeheartedly embraced quite a lot of pseudoscience, generally.  This book comprises a lot of hokum (ie "vampires") but has some good tips buried in what should essentially be a blog post.

The book boils down to the following:  defining and teaching the reader to identify psychic vampires (or narcissists); learning how to create healthy boundaries and distance from those people, and how to avoid them in the future.  Next, she discusses how to find support among people who are not narcissists and how to rebuild one's self-esteem and establish routines for self-care, including focusing on positive news and other inputs (ie, avoid violent/negative films).  All in all - good messages.

REVIEW: Dodging Energy Vampires: An Empath’s Guide to Evading Relationships That Drain You and Restoring Your Health and Power by Christiane Northrup 

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.