Yesterday at Kirkus Reviews...

...I wrote about Eve Bunting's Forbidden, which... eh:

But I digress. And as my digression began before I even started to write about the book I’m here to talk about…well, that doesn’t bode all that well for the book, does it?

It’s not that Eve Bunting’s Forbidden is particularly problematic in any way, it’s just… thin. A lot of atmosphere, and not much else.

Can anyone answer my question about wreckers at the beginning of the column? Did my younger self originally learn about them in Susan Cooper's Greenwitch, or am I remembering it totally wrong?

Yesterday, at Book Riot...

...I wrote about my reading plans for 2016: All Women, All the Time.

Relatedly, do not, do not, do not miss this essay:

Let us hear the stories we are telling ourselves about ourselves. Let us remember that we become the stories we tell. An illustration: I was talking with the writer Elissa Schappell about how much we are both anticipating Carrie Brownstein’s new book. I asked Elissa what she made of this new trend of memoirs by badass women: Carrie Brownstein, Kim Gordon, Sally Mann, Amy Poehler. Was this trend the result of Patti Smith winning the National Book Award five years ago? Was the trend indicative of a new wave of feminism? Elissa interrupted me. “You keep using that word,” she said. “Trend. It’s not a trend. We are here now. We’re not going anywhere. We are here now.”

This week, at Kirkus Reviews...

...I put together a list of 2015 releases that I'm hoping to squeeze in before year's end, and I wrote about Courtney Summers' All the Rage, which is AMAZING AMAZING AMAZING.



Today, at Kirkus Reviews...

...I wrote about Out of Darkness, by Ashley Hope Pérez:

I’m a crier. I cry easily and often, set off by stories ranging from Mad Max: Fury Road to Ms. Marvel to that Subaru commercial about the guy who took a cross-country road trip with his old dog. (Even just typing out the description of that last one made me tear up.) So I do understand that when I say something made me cry, most people take that information with a grain of salt.

Out of Darkness made me cry so hard that I got the dry heaves, the kind of ugly-crying that I experienced while reading Code Name Verity and The Storyteller. So when I say it made me cry, I mean that it MADE ME CRY. Consider yourself warned.