*SPOILERS AHEAD!*


​

I read this in record time given my usual snail-pace! As such, I have honestly not a whole lot to say, given that the actual execution of this novel's interesting idea was very "meh" for me. 
I wish this weren't the case, and this is certainly not a reflection of how awesome of a writer and human being I think Mitch Albom certainly is! My conclusion is that the story's gripping book jacket blurb did its job in gripping me, but only for the approximate first 10% of the actual book. After that, I felt like the back and forth format of "Sea," "Land," and "News" was only serving the story to connect different plot puzzle pieces, rather than additionally building the story's emotional weight. 
I think there was a lot of potential for the "unreliable narrator" lens to better flesh out each of the characters catalogued in the notebook. Instead, the news reports that give highlights of the characters, explaining why they were on the yacht in the first place, only gave me snapshots of their wealth and public image. They blended into a lot of different names without faces as I read, which led to some minor skimming.
My favorite takeaway from this novel is its display of morals and themes surrounding grief and the idea that you can live your life as a reflection of God's grace and choose to cling to faith even when all else has failed. The constant back and forth question of if the man in the lifeboat really is the Lord or not kept me reading, but ultimately led to a conclusion that felt dissatisfying in its speedy explanation and straightforward descriptions. The pseudo "body swapping" from a man to a little girl felt jarring, though I understand the connection to childlike faith and belief without solid facts being reflected in this choice.
LeFleur's emotional arc and breakthrough via reading the account in Benji's notebook was another favorite part of mine. It felt more tangible in comparison to the reveal of a very unreliable narrator who ends up revealing himself to be alive at the end. I hope Benji goes to some serious therapy in addition to exploring his newfound faith and outlook on life.



Some of my favorite quotes from The Stranger in the Lifeboat:

"Sometimes silent people go unnoticed, as if their lack of words makes them invisible. But being quiet and being invisible are not the same thing."

"Despair has its own voice. It is a prayer unlike any other."

I felt like I was listening to a British Carrie Bradshaw intoning advice in a fun cadence and chipper spirit for most of this read. And I love Sex and the City. I do, though, have a resounding need to disclose that I don't think all of the advice shared necessarily needs to be followed. My attempt to put it as kindly as possible is this: It seems to me like it took Alderton quite some time and soul-searching to reach some of the conclusions I've known within myself and about myself for quite some time. Some of the relationship advice made me cringe, but I adore the unabashed, positively feminine perspective offered from lots of time spent thinking about and adventuring for love.
That's not to say reading about someone's else life journey and lessons and heartbreaks isn't gratifying or worthwhile---it certainly is. In fact, I think it's fascinating to read about the choices and situations of others who operate within very different lifestyles than you. At its heart, that's what the art of reading fiction can be boiled down to. But knowing this is nonfiction, that Alderton is a very real and brave woman to live through and pen her plethora of experiences, is a whole other story.
Which brings me to one of the first times I thought, "This is really not like my life"---cocaine. All the stuff about coke reminded me that I never had any experiments or experiences like the ones described here, that I have never had to live with the reality of a dependency on this kind of drug. It brought to mind Cynthia Weiner's A Gorgeous Excitement all over again. It's heavy stuff.
Alderton's expressions on how “nothing changes” resonated with me because it made me wonder if I would’ve been nodding my head vehemently yes if I hadn’t met my boyfriend at the time I did. The timing has led me to where I am now, but going down the rabbit hole of "what if?" isn't something I want to do today (or here). There are plenty of pros and cons to being both single and in a couple. That’s just how it (how life) goes.
Alongside this school of thought is Alderton's ability to make the concept of female friendships feel so tangible and precious. These are the kinds of relationships we know are special and meant to be protected in our heart of hearts, but I think Alderton's writing shines in her ability to display the beauty of female friendships in the midst of life as well as the fragility of maintaining them in the midst of life. Her emphatic advice to keep female friendships and relationships close and prioritized resonated with me greatly. I’m happy the end of the book lands on this sentiment out of all the topics covered, because I think Alderton’s really nailed this part of the “advice column” aspect.
Girlhood looks like a whole lot of things. Alderton's crack at putting most of it into words was entertaining at best.



Some of my favorite quotes from ​Everything I Know About Love: 


"When you’re looking for love and it seems like you might not ever find it, remember you probably have access to an abundance of it already, just not the romantic kind."

"Do as much good as you can. The weighty representation of the world cannot rest on every decision you make."

"The perfect man is kind, funny and generous. He bends down to say hello to dogs and puts up shelves."

*MILD SPOILERS AHEAD!*



This amazing, mindblowing, terrifying book has me most enamored in one particular way that I'll focus this review on, and that way constitutes how King manages to blend childlike types of fears with adult, "real world" types of fears so seamlessly.
This quote is, I think, one of the best cases of seeing how King does this in a nutshell: "It was like looking into the dark and seeing something that was going to eat you up." One of the adult characters is being referenced in this haunting description, but it so closely mirrors the fears of Tad Trenton concerning the monster he's sure is in his closet, waiting to pounce and eat him once the safety of parents is gone. This is how the whole book begins: A middle of the night scare with a sure evil lurking in the dark recesses of a closet. This is where the first intrigue of the novel begins---is there actually going to be a monster in the closet, or is this a larger metaphor for what we'll see later as the plot unfolds?---and it sure hooked me.
The other cast of characters, all adults excluding Brett, son of Joe and Charity Camber, experience moments of paralysis at the hands of adult like fears: infidelity, what to do after infidelity's been brought into the light, divorce, verbal abuse, getting older, wanting to escape a certain kind of lifestyle, and so on and so forth. Cujo somehow embodies all of these fears in his enormous, horrifying physicality, especially for Donna Trenton, the character most forced to look in the face of her fear and, I think, the character who experiences the most growth and heartbreak as a result. 
Having the book be one long chapter with abrupt breaks in the third person omniscient narration feels like a psychological horror in and of itself. And giving Cujo some interiority, letting readers know that he was not always the killing machine he becomes, but rather just a very big dog with the desire to be a good boy, makes Cujo's part in this story all the more ironic. Really, it hurts my heart and makes his violence all the more disturbing.
I think it's very interesting how Frank Dodd and Cujo are loosely but indefinitely linked as coming from the same source of evil. But the lines blend between if Cujo is a reincarnated Frank Dodd, now possesses the spirit of evil that was also once in Frank Dodd, or is just a once good dog diminished by the terrible effects of rabies and made to seem like something more akin to Fate because of the assorted fears and struggles of the characters.
I'll be thinking about all that's at work in this masterful book for quite a while. The female (and motherly) rage blending Donna with Cujo's rage at the end had me gasping. Stephen King, you are a master at literary timing.



One of my favorite quotes from Cujo:

"But in high school the business of irrevocable choices began. Doors slipped shut with a faint locking click that was only heard clearly in the dreams of later years."

Every other page of this book had me asking myself, Where was this amazing piece of literature when I was in the literal trenches of my M.A. thesis research? This is a good thing, both because it proves I had more to learn after nearly two years spent researching parts of Greek mythology related to Sirens and other ocean-related monsters of the sea in ancient and modern literature, and because I made it out of grad school alive (phew).
In all seriousness, I thought this was a jolly nonfiction romp through so many historical and cultural facts about storytelling patterns of the sea, sailors, and the people of numerous coastlines caught in liminal spaces. The amount of countries and subcultures mentioned in various tall tales, superstitions, and famed ghost ship sightings was truly astounding to me, because of its evidence of careful research as well as confirmation that the sea enchants humans across the globe.
Each of the chapter titles I've listed below display the range of content Bell covers with the intent of helping readers grasp the "whys" as well as "hows" of oceanic storytelling culture and their lasting impacts:
- Introduction: Casting Off
- 1. Seafaring and Sea Fearing
- 2. Maritime Magic and Omens
- 3. Supernatural Beings and Fishy Tales
- 4. The Haunted High Seas
- 5. Monsters of the Deep
- 6. Weird and Enchanted Geographies
- 7. Coastal Folklore: Bringing It Back Home
- 8. Remaking Our Nautical Fears
- Epilogue: Past Tides and Future Shores
I remember most vividly the chapter and its sections explaining and exploring the lore of The Flying Dutchmen, from how the tale began, why the ship and its captain are said to be purgatorial cursed, and what the cost of seeing this apparition for yourself may mean. The methodical unpacking of why people believed what they believed, and respecting that, while also wondering how science might provide a clearer explanation also felt very well developed to me. The concept of "fakelore" was new to me as well, but actually makes a whole lot of sense in the midst of its sort of nonsensical nature. Similarly, the last few sections of the book connecting older ideas about the ocean and its inhabitants to depictions of the sea in popular culture felt really well done to me. I was happy to see a few pages devoted to analyzing the work the ​Pirates of the Caribbean movie franchise has done for this branch of folklore, as well as the entire book ending on a positive environmentalist note brimming with hope rather than desperation abut the state of our planet and humanity's relationship with the ocean. If you think you'd like to expand your armory of oceanic fun facts, this is the book for you.

This is going to be a shorter review cause The Mermaid was just not my favorite, and that's okay! My main line of thinking as to why a book about the ocean and mermaids was (somehow) not up my alley is this: I'm a sucker for first person narration.
The third person narration style of this novel left me feeling distant from most of the characters and their relationships, as well as confused as to whose inner thoughts I was meant to be following since it switched around during the middle of chapters at times. As a result, I finished this feeling underwhelmed by the concluding events and the main romantic relationship that slowly builds across the main plot of Amelia becoming P. T. Barnum's mermaid. To be honest, I felt like Barnum was the most fleshed out character in the cast. I'm sure this is due to the fact that Henry could draw on a plethora of historical records and accounts in addition to Barnum's reputation as she wrote. I started to lose considerable investment as a reader, though, when I realized I was halfway through the story and not as emotionally invested in the main character as I'd hoped to be.
What I did like about this book:
- The entire first chapter. Such whimsicality in the storytelling and set up of Amelia's backstory and life on land to come that I was hooked (maybe if this first chapter was the only chapter to be in third person, this review would look different... but I'm not the author!).
- Sweet, shy, bumbling Levi Lyman. While I also felt like it was hard to get to know him as a character, he was very endearing to me.
- The commentary on what lengths people will go to to express their faith despite the hurt it may cause other people. I'm looking at you, Elijah Hunt.
- Amelia's ability as a mermaid to hold a mirror up to the uglier parts of humanity and examine the way of things.
- The rocky but ultimately very lovely female friendship between Amelia and Charity.



One of my favorite quotes from The Mermaid:

"Women who did what they liked instead of what other people wished were often accused of witchcraft, because only a witch would be so defiant, or so it was thought."

*MILD SPOILERS AHEAD!*


​
​This feels like a case study on human instincts and capacities to make sense of things that are pretty much unexplainable. I sit to write this feeling like trying to summarize or make my way through the intricacies of this novel's plot isn't quite the way I want this review to go, because it seems like a complicated feat, yes, but also because I feel like this novel's left me thinking more about psychological phenomena than anything else. I loved the cast of characters, certainly, and how their countries of origin, languages, backgrounds, and reasons for being at Mr. Hosokawa's birthday party all vary so much. But the interweaving stories, desires, and fears of all these different people, written in such gripping third-person omniscient POV, has led me to ask myself how I would've fared (and changed) were I in their shoes.
I think this book has moments of great uncomfortability because it gives an unbridled showcase of so many different characters' thoughts within a very high stakes situation. Chiefly, the obsession the men have over Roxanne Coss, the opera singer of such high fame and importance, came off as a bit too male gaze-y for me at times. While it's certainly honest, and one woman trapped with 39 men enamored by her musical talent and femininity are bound to indulge in some fantasies, it resurfaced a little more than I thought necessary in the plot itself. I have to say in the same breath that this honest look at so many of the characters made the hostage situation seem so much more real, and the once singularly brutal, uncivilized, violent captors much easier to sympathize with as humans desperate to fight for a cause they believe in enough to risk their lives. All of their abilities to settle into the rhythms of living in the house together, making dinners and playing chess and watching television and listening to an opera singer make sure she hasn't lost her spark and falling in love, remind me that humans can make routine and maintain sanity pretty much anywhere at any time if they have the drive to. The way that this fact unites the entire cast of characters made the ending that much harder to read, too.
The character development for Carmen really took my breath away, as well as the slow but intentional development of each quiet romance. The fact that I started this book with no idea what could or might happen and finished it with such a clear sense of how each platonic as well as romantic relationship fits together like puzzle pieces is brilliant. The differences between Roxanne/Hosokawa, Gen/Carmen, and Thibault/Edith are astounding to me, and also made me think a lot about how quickly someone can examine the validity of a marriage vow when one is very aware that their clock is ticking.
Time was such an interesting construct in this novel. How it stretches to encompass nearly five months of the hostages' imprisonment turned peaceful cohabitation with their captors. How it causes each individual's reflection on how they lived their lives before that fateful night. How it also causes them to examine what they want to do with the rest of their lives if they ever make it out of the house. I think the last 20% or so of the book hinges on that concept of time being finite and leading people to outcomes or relationships they never could've dreamed for themselves but now can't imagine being taken from them. When the final few pages unfolded in painfully quick descriptions and dialogue, I felt genuine tears welling up in my eyes. It was an inevitable end I should've and did see coming, but when it still happened, I still cried. Which leads me to my main gripe with this novel---the ending.
I understand how it works in a bittersweet, slightly askew sort of way (or at least I think I do), but I also don't see the payoff of just telling readers that Gen and Roxane are together and in love in the epilogue. We have no idea how much time has passed since the events of the last chapter, and for so much time to have been spent drawing out and describing the romances of these characters with separate people only for the book to end like this felt like a letdown. Perhaps that was exactly Patchett's intention---life can't let the circumstances of an impossible situation with two impossibly different sets of people end happily, even where love is involved. And if that's the case, bravo to Patchett, really. I just have to sit with this reality for a while. Another bravo: This book has proven to stick with me for at least the few hours that have passed since I closed it. 




Some of my favorite quotes from Bel Canto:

"True life was kept safe in the lines of Tchaikovsky's Eugene Onegin while you went out into the world and met the obligations required of you."

"These people who detain us so pleasantly may decide to shoot us after all. It is a possibility. And if that is the case, then why should I carry this love with me to the other world? Why not give to you what is yours?"

"She wished she could tap on the glass and wave to him, but it was a miraculous thing to be able to watch the person you love undetected, as if you were a stranger seeing them for the first time."

*SPOILERS AHEAD!*



A BookTok video I saw described the premise of this debut novel to be centered around a recent high school graduate and native New Yorker wanting to lose her virginity before leaving for college in the fall. That concept alone hooked me, but there was so so so so much more to this book than I expected. For example: Learning in the Author's Note that the premise is largely based on the author's childhood in NYC in the 80s, in addition to the events and fallout of The Preppy Murder in 1986. 
From these two tidbits unravels the story of Nina Jacobs, extremely insecure but also somehow as insightful as she is unsure. I think she's more self-aware and respectful of herself than she gives herself credit for. This entire novel forces you to live inside the head of a soon-to-be college freshmen desperate for a sense of solid self and identity. Oh, and she just so happens to be navigating all of this in one of the most carefully chaotic cities in the country at the height of its coke craze and several explicit murder cases of sexually violent natures toward young women. No big deal.
As subtly referenced in the title, a large part of this novel explores the heightened use of crack cocaine in New York City among a large part of the night life crowds---this very deliberately includes Nina, friends she made in high school, and new "friends" she makes throughout the summer. It's also quite fitting that Nina has her sights set on a seemingly unattainable boy who, from at least my reader's perspective, I could tell was bad news from a mile away despite his golden boy persona. But of course, Nina is set; Gardner will be the one to take her virginity. Without saying too much about the series of events that transpire between Nina and Gardner (as well as Gardner's slow descent into really bad decisions), I think it's a miracle Nina makes it out of the city to college in Tennessee. In comparison, her friend Stephanie doesn't make it out, both rhetorically and literally. The commentary on violence against women (both verbally and physically) crops up time and time again throughout this story, and Nina's attempts to make sense of how the world allows such things as well as how people she knows and her city experience them made me emotional. So many scenes had me wanting to scream at Nina to run. It felt a lot like the events of Marty Supreme that just keep escalating and rolling downhill towards inevitable disaster.
As if all of these themes and events weren't already packed enough, this novel also explores being Jewish in the 1980s NYC and Nina's mother's slow descent into general madness. Despite being Jewish, Nina more often observes other people commenting on Jewish people in negative ways via microaggressions. She's uncomfortable, but just doesn't know how to address that discomfort or speak up until the end of the novel. Nina is also compared several times to her mother, once very explicitly by her father: "You look more and more like Mom." Is this a compliment, or concerning, given the amount of times Francis, Nina's mother, has very high highs and very low lows? I think the novel's ending scene with Francis and Nina's conversation suggests it's complimentary in a slightly twisted and sad way, given the cards Nina's family has been dealt concerning extreme mental health conditions. Healing appears to be possible, but the road to it is long.
If this review hasn't spelled it out clearly, this book deals with some pretty heavy stuff. But I recommend it for those intrigued by the premise and up for grappling with aforementioned heavy stuff. 

*SPOILERS AHEAD!*



Oooohhh goodness gracious me, where to begin with this completely enchanting amazing second book of an enchanting amazing duology I will now be recommending to everyone? It's rare for me (and I think in general) for a a sequel or second story installment to be better than the first, but not impossible. I think this certainly classifies as one of those cases.
Wowie, there are so many amazing parts of this novel's plot. A lot of them hinge on the set up of One Dark Window's stakes and conflicts (Elspeth's parasitic friend, Hauth Rowan's terrifying power trip, and the necessity to venture into the mist-filled woods to destroy the Deck once and for all). But Gillig manages to make me care about side characters that weren't even on my radar at the beginning of the duology. Namely, Ione and Elm. My goodness, do these two have chemistry. Like, "I'm reading by myself and have to look up from the book to see if anyone else read the same heartthrob sentence I just read" type of chemistry. I was such a fan of their slow burning relationship at the book's beginning, since it made it clear to me why Elm's POV was going to be important. What I liked even more was that it didn't take toooooo long for them to finally admit they care for each other and do everything within their power to protect each other from the forces that be (mainly big scary Hauth and the misuse of the powerful Providence Cards). If Rachel Gillig ever offers a masterclass on "how to get your readers to care more about your secondary characters than your main characters," I'll be the first to sign up. 
The tension of the Providence Cards' use makes me reflect once again on the unique magic system and worldbuilding of Blunder. It's just so atmospheric and unique in a way that I think especially shines in this second book because we learn more about the Shepherd King as an actual likable character. Truth be told, I sometimes forgot to envision him clothed in Elspeth's body, wearing her skin whilst she inhabits his mind. I was really intrigued by what felt like a slow but purposeful progression of their relationship from annoyed and distant to attached and familial. While they were undoubtedly forced into closeness from Elspeth's decision to touch the Card, I like the slightly uncomfortable sentiment that they are one and the same (and therefore, a monster). The analysis of their individual characters becomes that much more of a beast (no pun intended). I think the irony of this mind/body switch up worked really well to increase the tension between Ravyn and the Nightmare. Because while Ravyn is busy loathing the Nightmare for shutting Elspeth away from him, he's blind to the signs that he and the Nightmare actually have many similarities. The payoff of their revealed ancestry lost to time and rewritten Rowan legacy feels heavier, and the parallels of losing loved ones and traitorous friends is chilling.
On another note, I absolutely looooooved the descriptions of the Alderwood and deep forests beyond the immediate reaches of Stone. I really felt the mysticism while reading and learning about the Nightmares ancient power over the trees manifested in Elspeth's body. I think the full circle moment of the trees aiding the good guys in their fight against the bad guys near the novel's end was so so cool to watch unfurl.
I have to end this review with another nod to Ione and Elm. Like, wow, I'm obsessed with them and their story. The levels of hurt and healing they experience to get to the ends of themselves and the beginning of their love is beautiful. This is one of the best books (and duologies, by default) I've read so far this year.




Some of my favorite quotes from ​Two Twisted Crowns:

"There were not enough pages in all the books Elm had read, in all the libraries he’d wandered, in all the notebooks he’d scrawled, that could measure—denote or describe—just how beautiful she was."

"I’d be your King, but always your servant. Never your keeper."

"It was difficult to look at her. Beneath the ache that existed between them was a thin, fragile thread. One Ione had slipped through the eye of a needle and plunged into Elm's chest, past all his bricks and barbs, though she didn't yet realize it. It was uncomfortable, pretending she was not sewn into him."

"I think about how easy it would be to do horrible things if I felt I had a good reason."

*MILD SPOILERS AHEAD!*


This one's been on my list for a while (the cover has definitely caught my eye in the past on B&N shelves and BookTok videos). I can understand why it's popular and receiving love from the fantasy genre---this is one of the most gripping and followable magic systems I've read in a long time! Emphasis on followable; I don't have to pretend like I grasp the most important fundamentals cause I actually do. I appreciate the amount of times the general legend of the Shepherd King and eventual Rowan royal family are mentioned, whether it be through flashbacks from the main character of bedtime stories, the literal chapter title cards, or the rhymes the Nightmare sings in Elspeth's head. The concept of this world's magic being guided by and tied to the cards people wield is fascinating, and the Nightmare's ability to see the colors of the card's magic through Elspeth's eyes made the writing all the more atmospheric for me. I'd be remiss not to mention the smell of salt every time magic or the mist is near, too, and the politics of this kingdom's decision to eradicate any sign of their mysterious illness in children rather than care for and attempt to heal them.
Let's talk about Elspeth---I think she stands out as a really great FMC, not just because she's pretty much got a split personality, but because she proves herself capable of wielding and resisting the darkness within her. I don't necessarily think all of Elspeth's interest as a character comes from the fact that she has the 500 year old spirit of the king of her realm living as a half monster, half man trapped in her mind (though that's certainly unique). I think a lot of my interest stemmed from wanting to see if she'd succumb to her degeneration, find a way around it, or decide to fully embrace it. Her romance with the somber Captain of the Destriers of course works to make her massive secret increasingly treacherous, but there's so much introspective work going on with her motives and fear and self-identity. Not to mention her attempts to figure out how her relationship with her cousin Ione had such a quick and total switch. I want a book told from Ione's perspective to figure out just what she's up to, cause I know she's using that Maiden card beauty for much more than meets the eye. Perhaps the second book in the duology will grant this wish of mine (I really really hope so). 
Elspeth's love interest, Ravyn Yew, reminds me of many other MMC types in the realm of fantasy series and duologies, but I'm not necessarily mad about it. Sure, he's literally tall, dark, and handsome, with a splash of danger, but for this novel's Medieval-esque setting, I think it works. I didn't expect a fake dating (or courting, I should say) trope to be thrown in the mix of this plot either, but I was pleasantly surprised at how much tension it created. Obviously the larger plot is centered on finding and collecting the Providence Cards to save the kingdom, but we've gotta have romance in there. I'm glad the ruse wasn't kept up for too long, that the yearning came to a head and resulted in a swoonworthy kiss (among other things). 
I'm very intrigued to read the next book and therefore finish this duology's interesting story, as I thought the way the first book ended left me with no choice but to keep reading.




Some of my favorite quotes from One Dark Window:

"Nothing is free. Nothing is safe. Magic is love, but also, it’s hate. It comes at a cost. You’re found, and you’re lost. Magic is love, but also, it’s hate."

"'You’re smiling.' Elm looked over the table. 'Does no one else find that incredibly unnerving?'"

"Children are strongest when their eyes are clear."

*MILD SPOILERS AHEAD!*


This was Cute with a capital C!! I must admit that my main reason for giving it a try, since I'd heard nothing about it before, is that the cover looks like me and my boyfriend, down to the glasses and colorful cardigan. I was already pretty convinced Dungeons & Dragons and Broadway nerds have enough in common to get along romantically if all the puzzle pieces fall together. This novel is a perfect recipe for cuteness overload via fake dating, high school-level flirting, and just the right amount of musical and D&D references.
There are so many things about the whole set up of this story that I think work. For one, I haven't read a high school romance book in a hot minute (aka, when the main characters have been high school aged). I think the concept of this fake dating scenario plays out so well in all the sweet, innocent ways an appropriate teenage romance should. If you're gonna create two characters with niche interests to pretty much center the plot and their fake dating around, and make them 16-year-olds, musical theater and D&D are fantastic choices, in my opinion. 
I adored Riley's optimistic and bright outlook on life, how goal driven she is from the start when it comes to doing what she loves, and her friendship with Hoshiko. I liked the choice in pacing concerning her character's goals: Budget cuts have canceled the highly anticipated spring musical, but Riley's plans to student direct in high school so she'll be taken seriously postgrad will not be foiled. The show must go on. Her "punishment" via working at her dad's game store only furthered her character development for me, as it showed she was eager and willing to make new friends, pick up more hobbies related to acting and music, and make the most of her situations. Riley's excitement to choose/play a character who gets to sing and perform (a Bard) made me smile, cause that may or may not have been the exact same reasoning I followed when selecting my first character. There's actually so much overlap in these two separate nerd hobbies, lol.
Nathan as a character and love interest stands out to me as very well written. I'd think it's probably very hard to write in the style and headspace of a teenage boy as a female writer, but Boyce pulls it off well from my reading experience. I think he's equal parts devoted D&D player, average high schooler, and sweet lil gentleman with a budding crush. His exasperation with parts of Riley's more exuberant personality traits accentuate his more generally chill demeanor, and make the fake dating "I'm only doing this to make someone else jealous" trope that more tantalizing when nothing's fake anymore. 
Along that same train of thought, I usually despise the miscommunication trope and stay as far away from it in traditional romance books as I can. But the elements of this novel's miscommunication seemed to help with the tension of Riley and Nathan's emotions because they're young people trying to make sense of their feelings and their adolescent lives. For example, we don't know a lot about Nathan's parents other than that they work a lot and feel generally absent from Nathan's home life, so his late night drives with Riley mean that much more. And Riley's dealing with the pressure of putting together her plan to revive the spring musical on top of building new parts of her relationship with her dad and some unexpected health issues. There's more depth to these young characters motivations than "I have a crush," which makes their romance that much sweeter and their eventual confessions that much more meaningful. Ugh, it's just all too sweet. I can't recommend this book enough for a lighthearted, nerd-centric romance read. I'm very glad the cover design drew me in.




Some of my favorite quotes from Dungeons and Drama:

"Why do guys have to look so good when they’re leaning against things?"

"He looks away from the road long enough for our eyes to meet, but it’s enough time for my stomach to jump like we’re on a roller coaster that just dropped."