On a bitter-cold day, in the December of his junior year at Harvard, Sam Masur exits a subway car and sees, amid the hordes of people waiting on the platform, Sadie Green. He calls her name. For a moment, she pretends she hasn’t heard him, but then, she turns, and a game begins: a legendary collaboration that will launch them to stardom. They borrow money, beg favors, and, before even graduating college, they have created their first blockbuster, Ichigo: a game where players can escape the confines of a body and the betrayals of a heart, and where death means nothing more than a chance to restart and play again. This is the story of the perfect worlds Sam and Sadie build, the imperfect world they live in, and of everything that comes after success: Money. Fame. Duplicity. Tragedy.
Spanning thirty years, from Cambridge, Massachusetts, to Venice Beach, California, and lands in between and far beyond, Gabrielle Zevin’s Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow is a dazzling and intricately imagined novel that examines the multifarious nature of identity, games as artform, technology and the human experience, disability, failure, the redemptive possibilities in play, and above all, our need to connect: to be loved and to love. Yes, it is a love story, but it is not one you have read before.
Sadie Green and Sam Masur love each other. They have a strong connection, which stems from their shared love of video games. They have been friends since childhood, after meeting at a hospital, under unfortunate circumstances. Despite their friendship resulting in a lifechanging venture, they must also brave heartbreak and betrayal. The question is, can they?
That was not what I was expecting.
The portrayal of friendship, especially Sadie and Sam’s, reminds me of Demon Copperhead. What I mean, is that it is so raw and real and doesn’t shy away from ugliness. Among many other things, I think the mark of a good book is when you hate the characters… some of the time. Obviously, I need balance, otherwise, If I detest a character I get into the habit of mumbling angrily and it’s not a good look.
I am impressed with how much story Gabrielle Zevin is able to fit into 400 pages. I have recently read a 1000-page book, and the characters don’t have half the depth of these ones (don’t even get me started). I am actually surprised that it is 400 pages, because it felt like so much more.
A fair warning, there are intense themes in this book, including; suicide, gore, sexual assault and, honestly, a consistent bleakness. That’s not to say there is no happiness in the book, but from my perspective, Zevin aims to perpetuate authentic relationships and events. So, it is not sugar coated or glossed over.
My only issue with the book is Sadie’s character. I feel there was a lot of lost potential, and her character solely revolves around her experiences with men. I have gone into more detail in my spoiler review.
If you like realistic books, like Demon Copperhead, I would give this one a go.
Click link below for Storygraph overview, which includes general rating, summary (same as above) and other reviews.
On a bitter-cold day, in the December of his junior year at Harvard, Sam Masur exits a subway car and sees, amid the hordes of people waiting on the platform, Sadie Green. He calls her name. For a moment, she pretends she hasn’t heard him, but then, she turns, and a game begins: a legendary collaboration that will launch them to stardom. They borrow money, beg favors, and, before even graduating college, they have created their first blockbuster, Ichigo: a game where players can escape the confines of a body and the betrayals of a heart, and where death means nothing more than a chance to restart and play again. This is the story of the perfect worlds Sam and Sadie build, the imperfect world they live in, and of everything that comes after success: Money. Fame. Duplicity. Tragedy.
Spanning thirty years, from Cambridge, Massachusetts, to Venice Beach, California, and lands in between and far beyond, Gabrielle Zevin’s Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow is a dazzling and intricately imagined novel that examines the multifarious nature of identity, games as artform, technology and the human experience, disability, failure, the redemptive possibilities in play, and above all, our need to connect: to be loved and to love. Yes, it is a love story, but it is not one you have read before.
Sadie Green and Sam Masur love each other. They have a strong connection, which stems from their shared love of video games. They have been friends since childhood, after meeting at a hospital, under unfortunate circumstances. Despite their friendship resulting in a lifechanging venture, they must also brave heartbreak and betrayal. The question is, can they?
That was not what I was expecting.
The portrayal of friendship, especially Sadie and Sam’s, reminds me of Demon Copperhead. What I mean, is that it is so raw and real and doesn’t shy away from ugliness. Among many other things, I think the mark of a good book is when you hate the characters… some of the time. Obviously, I need balance, otherwise, If I detest a character I get into the habit of mumbling angrily and it’s not a good look.
I am impressed with how much story Gabrielle Zevin is able to fit into 400 pages. I have recently read a 1000-page book, and the characters don’t have half the depth of these ones (don’t even get me started). I am actually surprised that it is 400 pages, because it felt like so much more.
A fair warning, there are intense themes in this book, including; suicide, gore, sexual assault and, honestly, a consistent bleakness. That’s not to say there is no happiness in the book, but from my perspective, Zevin aims to perpetuate authentic relationships and events. So, it is not sugar-coated or glossed over.
I feel let down by Sadie’s character. There was so much potential for her, but all she is reduced to is her experience with men. Whilst interacting with men is a fact of life, there is more to it than that. All of Sadie’s lore revolves around seeking validation from men or being betrayed by them. Why didn’t Zevin bring back her sister and explore that?
I am getting a little fed up with sexual assault/misconduct being a constant in female character building. I have mentioned this before in previous reviews. Sometimes, I am unsurprised due to the calibre of the stories, but this one had potential – hence my disappointment.
If you like realistic books, like Demon Copperhead, I would give this one a go.
Click link below for Storygraph overview, which includes general rating, summary (same as above) and other reviews.
Authors June Hayward and Athena Liu were supposed to be twin rising stars: same year at Yale, same debut year in publishing. But Athena’s a cross-genre literary darling, and June didn’t even get a paperback release. Nobody wants stories about basic white girls, June thinks.
So when June witnesses Athena’s death in a freak accident, she acts on impulse: she steals Athena’s just-finished masterpiece, an experimental novel about the unsung contributions of Chinese laborers to the British and French war efforts during World War I.
So what if June edits Athena’s novel and sends it to her agent as her own work? So what if she lets her new publisher rebrand her as Juniper Song—complete with an ambiguously ethnic author photo? Doesn’t this piece of history deserve to be told, whoever the teller? That’s what June claims, and the New York Times bestseller list seems to agree.
But June can’t get away from Athena’s shadow, and emerging evidence threatens to bring June’s (stolen) success down around her. As June races to protect her secret, she discovers exactly how far she will go to keep what she thinks she deserves.
June Hayward is nothing compared to Athena Liu. How can she flourish when she must work beside her ‘dear’ friend – the accredited and beloved author. That is until Athena dies. June Hayward, or now Juniper Song has taken it upon herself to honour Athena’s memory by stealing her manuscript and making it her own. Let’s just hope no one finds out….
I have been putting Yellowface off as it was described to me as weird. Weird is a little hard to decipher, as I find weird a good thing but there is certainly a bad ‘weird’. To me, this book falls under good weird.
Having read all of Kuang’s other novels, I was pleasantly surprised by her ability to adapt to a contemporary setting- for those who don’t know, Kuang is predominantly a Fantasy writer.
Whilst her signature sarcasm remains, this book feels more personal than the others. Her layered opinions on the publishing industry and its fickle mentality are insightful, although decidedly pessimistic.
I found the way she undermines June whilst also finding her humanity commendable. Kuang let the character speak for herself without forcing an agenda on the reader, allowing them to come to their own conclusion – which would presumably reflect their personal lens.
My only comment is that Athena could have had more substance. The way she is presented in the novel is slightly reductive, though I cannot go into depth as it would spoil.
I was captivated throughout the entire novel and look back on this book fondly- it may even be my second favourite Kuang book. June’s character reminds me a bit of the main character in My Year of Rest and Relaxation.
Click link below for Storygraph overview, which includes general rating, summary (same as above) and other reviews.
The Barnes family is in trouble. Dickie is up to his armpits in debt and increasingly preoccupied with preparing for an apocalypse that may or may not be just around the corner. His wife, Imelda, has become invisible to everyone except Big Mike, a man with unsavory local connections and a long-running feud with her husband. Their teenage daughter, Cass, always at the top of her class, has started drinking and staying out late, though nobody seems to have noticed. And twelve-year-old PJ is spending more and more time online, talking to a really funny, friendly kid called Ethan who never has his camera on and wants PJ to run away from home.
Every step carries the family closer to a precipice, a moment of reckoning. It feels inevitable. But how far back would you have to go to change the story? To the day Dickie hired a beautiful, feckless young man to help him out in the garage? To the year before Cass was born, at the wedding where Dickie took the place that should have belonged to his brother? To the night Imelda was supposed to skip town but didn’t? All the way back to ten-year-old Dickie standing in the summer garden, trembling before his father, learning how to be a proper man?
Ireland’s recession has affected many, including the Barnes family. Each member is facing the repercussions, causing a strain on the family dynamic. The question is, is this the root of the issue, or the straw that broke the camel’s back?
The Beesting provides a perspective from each member of the Barnes family. The children; Cass and PJ and the parents; Imelda and Dickie. Murray shows the importance of perspective, and how often we get it wrong. The juxtaposition between perception and true identity becomes obvious.
The characters are laid bare. Neither good nor bad, only complicated. I’ve become quite fond of them, which only intensifies the storyline.
Recently in the media, Ireland has been some-what romanticised. Through this book, Murray provides insight into the darker side of Irish history.
The family dynamic is unoriginal. I am tiring of the ‘kind’ but absent father, and ‘present’ but overbearing mother. It perpetuates such a sexist, reductive ideology that excuses men of fault.
Both the father and son have an endearing nature, which dilutes their flaws. Whereas the mother and daughter come across as cantankerous, despite justification.
Such a moving read. Would recommend if you enjoy reading about complicated families or fictional stories based on true events.
Click link below for Storygraph overview, which includes general rating, summary (same as above) and other reviews.
In 2025, I read 68 books. My aim was 65, so I am rather pleased I was able to accomplish it. This year my aim is 75, or in other words, inevitable disappointment.
2025 has been an amazing year that has opened my horizons through the books I have read;
Fantasy has led me to herbology (The Poppy War, as well as most fantasy books) and etymology (Babel).
Japanese fiction has led me to writing – and writing with the correct tools (Letters from the Ginza Shihodo Stationary Shop).
And non-fiction has led me to animal behaviours and agriculture (Sapiens).
I have concocted a list of my top ten books of the year – a mix of fantasy/magical realism, contemporary and horror.
Rather than review the books, I will give a brief summary and then describe some elements I love about the books, but most importantly how they make/made me feel.
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10.
The Natural Way Of Things
Charlotte Wood
Released 2015, 320 pages.
The Natural Way of Things is a powerful story set in the Australian bush. A group of women wake up in the middle of nowhere, each as confused as the other. They are forced to endure hard labour and humiliating rituals. As the story progresses, their pasts come to light— hinting at the real reason they are trapped in this desolate prison. Author Charlotte Wood touches on the prevalent issues surrounding the patriarchy, focusing on the all-too-real experiences women face every day.
What I found interesting about The Natural Way of Things is how surprisingly un-bleak I felt whilst reading – or listening (audiobook). Although the actual subject matter is daunting, the characters were able to shift the narrative by demonstrating endurance and escaping the — pity. Wood’s descriptive, colourful writing painted a vivid image, allowing my imagination to takeover and absorb everything.
This book was not only a story, but a reminder of the society we live in. And whilst we may progress slowly everyday (in some countries), we must not forget those who suffer tomorrow, today and yesterday.
This story revolves around a bookstore owner named Yeongju and her Barista, Minjun, along with their customers and friends. Each character is facing a problem in their life, whether it is work, relationships or internal. As the story progresses, each of them is shown that the least likely of ventures can lead them exactly where they need to be. And all of them have one thing in common: The Hyunam-Dong Bookshop.
This is topical for me as I just completed ‘Every Day I Read‘, Hwang’s short memoir and collection of essays about writing and reading – review pending.
Welcome to the Hyunam-Dong Bookshop grew on me. At first, it felt like a carbon copy of books like, Days at the Morisaki Bookshop – but the key difference is the impact it had on me.
Hwang has such an approachable writing style, as though she is speaking with her readers. I have taken so much from this book – so much so – that I feel I should reread with a pencil in hand (a nod to Everyday I Read).
This book made me feel inspired, motivated and warm.
The Sailor Who Fell from Grace with the Sea follows a single mother, Fusako, and her son, Noboru. The dynamic between the two is complex and unconventional – which only becomes more bizarre once Fusako meets Ryuji, an experienced sailor. Noboru and his friends start to develop a set of expectations on how people should behave, and unfortunately Ryuji is not meeting that criteria.
I read more horror than intended last year and enjoyed more than anticipated.
The Sailor Who Fell from Grace with the Sea, explores some very disturbing themes which progressively worsen as the story goes on. Despite this, I still think of it often, somehow not perturbed by the creepiness.
Mishima’s descriptive, fluent writing style allowed me to glide through the book. Whenever I think to this book, I don’t have an exact ‘feeling’, I just remember how easily I read it.
The Eyes Are The Best Part is a story that follows Ji-Won as she experiences the trials and tribulations of what it is to be a Korean woman growing up in a western country (America). After her mother gets a new boyfriend, she starts to notice the striking colour of his blue eyes. Slowly this becomes an obsession, that leads to something far more sinister.
If I have learnt anything from horror this year, it is that I can only read from the antagonist’s perspective. It is too jarring reading from the victim’s perspective, as it forces the reader to become the victim.
That is why I love The Eyes Are the Best Part, which is the book that made me realise horror can be good. Kim has created a simple yet intriguing story that demonstrates the implications of gendered racism. She was able to find a perfect level of confusion and understanding – avoiding the predictable cliché of intense, ongoing mania.
This book made me feel surprised, captivated and satisfied.
Oh, and did I mention that this is her debut novel – her second novel Molka, will be coming out in 30th of April 2026.
Emilia and Vittoria are twin sisters who have grown up with warnings to avoid the Wicked. As witches, they must protect themselves from both supernatural creatures and humans alike.
Though they are twins, Emilia and Vittoria couldn’t be more different. Vittoria is cynical and fiercely independent, while Emilia is gentle and content to spend her days experimenting with new recipes and cooking for her family’s Sicilian restaurant.
All of a sudden, a string of murders begins to unfold around town — each victim a witch, each killing marked by the same eerie signs.
To Emilia’s dismay, Vittoria goes missing. Her disappearance ignites something in Emilia, driving her to search for answers at any cost. But will she continue down this path when the truth leads her to her most feared enemy — Wrath, one of the Seven Wicked Princes of Hell?
I read four fantasy series/trilogies this year, and this was my definitely favourite. Maybe it wasn’t the most highbrow, and there may be a good dose of corny material, but it was exactly what I needed at the time I read it.
I may be cheating by having an entire series under one number, but it’s my blog, so, my rules. It also includes all of the Prince of Sin series as well, whilst I’m at it.
I adore the ‘Princes of Hell’ concept. I was immersed throughout the entire series and thoroughly enjoyed every page. I actually liked the main characters and Maniscalco was able to catch me off guard a couple times.
This book made me feel excited, anticipatory and happy.
I go in more depth about the Kingdom of the Wicked and Princes of Sin reading order on this post.
Throne Of Nightmares coming out 10th of February.
5.
Katabasis
R.F Kuang
Released 2025, 541 pages.
Alice Law and Peter Murdoch, academic rivals – must journey to hell to retrieve their professor’s soul – after his unfortunate death caused by a ‘freak’ accident. Though, shockingly, it is not a walk in the park – the two must overcome their past and learn to work together, otherwise everything will go to…
I have read The Poppy War series and Babel, and this is undeniably my favourite book from Kuang – which may be controversial.
Katabasis is academic, intriguing and surprisingly romantic.
I feel like I have a love-relationship with Alice. Kuang has a special ability of bringing out the worst in her characters yet making you inexplicably (maybe even begrudgingly) love them.
The concept of venturing to Hell is right up my alley- as mythology is a keen interest of mine. Having two know-it-all scholars, essentially ‘nerd-off’ by debating the physics of hell, is comical. The one unexpected element I noticed whilst reading – which I haven’t seen in other reviews – is the dry humour. I was laughing throughout the entire story.
This book made me feel excited, tense and, joyful?
Greta is a transcriber for a sex therapist in her hometown. Day in and day out she listens to the secret intimacies of the people who live around her. Despite their identities being kept anonymous, she can identify them simply by their voice. One day, a client – Greta refers to as ‘Big Swiss’ -catches her attention. She is drawn to her cavalier, frank demeanour and enigmatic voice – so much so that she becomes enamored.
Whilst walking her dog at the park, she hears that familiar voice. She goes and introduces herself with a fake name, not knowing this would lead to a bond like none she has experienced before.
I think the blurb/overview of this book is somewhat misleading. Whilst there are sensitive subjects covered, it did not feel sinister or heavy.
There are multiple reasons for this; Beagin’s remarkable writing style – with frequent insertions of dry humour and witty quips, coupled with Greta’s unflappable outlook on life.
This book really struck me, because it made me realise that perspective is absolutely everything. Whilst this may seem obvious, it is one of those facts I knew of but did not conceptualize until reading the book.
Big Swiss had a quiet impact on me; I did not know I would be placing it so high on this list, until I started constructing it.
This book made me feel surprised, tense (at moments), and it made me laugh – not out loud, but with a smirk of appreciation.
Working in the fields, Emmett Farmer lives a simple life tending to his family’s farm. One day he is sent a letter offering him an apprenticeship as a Bookbinder – a vocation that is frowned upon within the town he resides. Due to unexpected circumstances his parents have no choice but to send their son to the feared Bookbinder, Seredith.
Bookbinding is a profession that requires the most unlikely of skills, the ability to transfer and trap memories into a book. If Emmett does not learn this craft, it will cost him his sanity.
The books are discreetly hidden behind a vault, the key around the neck of his mentor. One day, he finds himself in the safe and makes the discovery that one of the books, has his name on it.
This book was sitting on my bookshelf for ages, until I begrudgingly picked it up.
The Binding is split into three parts. Whilst it did take me until half-way-through part one to get into it, I am sincerely glad I persevered.
The concept of the book is interesting, and Collin’s execution of it is incredible. The layout of parts one, two and three are perfection – I do not believe there is a better way it could have been told. It is also split into perspectives, which I find refreshing, as it allows for a better understanding of what is happening.
It is tricky to pinpoint what I love about this book, for fear of spoiling, so…
It made me feel exhilarated, intrigued and utterly immersed.
2.
What You Are Looking For is in The Library
Michiko Aoyama
Released 2020, 245 pages.
Characters from all walks of life, with an array of different personal problems are led to a community library. They are greeted by a peculiar woman, named Sayuri Komachi, who has a knack for felting. To their confusion, she gives them each a book they didn’t ask for. Little do they know, these books will help them in an unexpected, yet extraordinary way.
I think I would be personally offended if someone told me they didn’t like What You are Looking for is in The Library. I can understand it not resonating, but to not have enjoyed it, is criminal.
What stood out in this book, is how established the characters are. I have read books similar, and whilst they are good, they lack character depth. Somehow, Aoyama has managed to create five, interesting and independent characters, in 245 pages, split into five parts.
The concept is endearing, and it has made a genuine impact in my life. It instilled motivation in me that has not left. I am now going out and doing all the activities I have been putting off, simply from reading this book.
This book made me feel motivated, reflective and joyful.
1.
The Song Of Achilles
Madeline Miller
Released 2011, 378 pages.
Patroclus, son of King Menoetius, is exiled to the court of King Peleus due to unfortunate circumstances. Whilst Patroclus is awkward, scrawny and timid, – Achilles – son of King Peleus, is the perfect Prince who is admired by all who meet him. Achilles and Patroclus find friendship in their differences and form a strong bond, growing together and becoming young men skilled in the art of war – despite the objections and meddling of Thetis, the cruel Sea Goddess and Achilles mother.
Unexpectedly, it is reported that Helen of Sparta has been kidnapped and must be rescued. Patroclus for fear of losing his beloved companion, follows Achilles to Troy. What was originally a straightforward plan turns into something much more, where all they hold dear will be tested.
Words cannot describe how much I adore this book. The title alone makes me feel all the emotions.
The writing is impeccable, it is sacred, it is my bible. If The Song Of Achilles was a religion, I would worship it. The characters are loveable, hateable, perfect, flawed and devastating.
I recommend ignoring the blurb – go into it completely blind (the overview I have written is spoiler-free). Then afterwards, listen to Hozier. Thank me later.
