Kathleen
27 May 2034 @ 04:57 pm
Nothing's forgotten. Nothing is ever forgotten.  

( Never had she danced so beautifully; the sharp knives cut her feet, but she did not feel it, for the pain in her heart was far greater. )
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feeling: ecstatic
jukebox: "Sutter's Mill"-Dan Fogelberg
 
 
Kathleen
11 September 2019 @ 12:47 am
“I don’t believe in monsters,” Stanton said. “Only men who behave like them.“  
It's been a while since I've done a book review, hasn't it? Anyway the latest thing on my reading list was The Hunger by Alma Katsu, which promised a historical fantasy horror, and left me turning pages and jumping at sounds most of the night.



summary on the back: Tamsen Donner must be a witch. That is the only way to explain the series of misfortunes that have plagued the wagon train known as the Donner Party. Depleted rations, bitter quarrels, and the mysterious death of a little boy have driven the pioneers to the brink of madness. They cannot escape the feeling that someone or something is stalking them. While the ill-fated group struggles to survive in the treacherous mountain conditions - searing heat that turns the sand into bubbling stew; snows that freeze the oxen where they stand - evil begins to grow around them, and within them. As members of the party begin to disappear, they must ask themselves "What if there is something waiting in the mountains? Something disturbing and diseased...and very hungry?"

My thoughts: I'm a sap for historical fantasy, but I initially had some reservations over the idea of fusing an incredibly tragic and horrific part of history with the wendigo mythology. But The Hunger never sensationalizes the events, skillfully weaving well-researched accounts into a chillingly almost plausible scenario. It didn't really happen that way, of course, but you almost believe it did, and that's historical fantasy at its best.

The characters are interesting, but there's so many its difficult to keep track of them all, and only a few of them stand out as memorable. The strength of the book is in its tone, which starts slowly and builds to a nearly unbearable sense of dread as the group inches closer to their fate. The pacing is quite slow, but its well worth waiting for it to pick up. The monsters, not often portrayed and even less explained, are effectively mysterious, creepy, and horrifying. While restrained, and not nearly as disturbing as it could have been, the book does briefly discuss a couple animal deaths, child abuse, murder, an attempted suicide, and incest. Cannibalism appears far more frequently, but again, is very carefully handled and not sensationalized or overly gory. The ending, while optimistic, felt a bit abrupt to me. The writing is atmospheric and detailed, even overly-complicated in plot, but even so, there was so much more I wanted to know about, especially regarding the Native Americans. The ending, while optimistic, felt a bit abrupt to me.

The Hunger probably isn't for the faint for the heart, but personally I found it deeply engrossing and well worth the read.
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jukebox: "Faithfully"-Journey
feeling: scared
 
 
Kathleen
24 September 2018 @ 12:25 am
They called us resurrectionists, grave robbers.  
My latest reading took me into The Resurrectionist: The Lost Work of Dr. Spencer Black by E.B. Hudspeth which caught my eye with it's cover and held my attention with it's odd and morbidly intriguing contents.



Summary on the back: Philadelphia, the late 1870s. A city of gas lamps, cobblestone streets, and horse-drawn carriages - and home to the controversial surgeon Dr. Spencer Black. The son of a grave robber, young Dr. Black studies at Philadelphia's esteemed Academy of Medicine, where he develops an unconventional hypothesis: What if the world’s most celebrated mythological beasts - mermaids, minotaurs, and satyrs - were in fact the evolutionary ancestors of humankind?

My thoughts: I wasn't initially sure what this book was going to be like, and after finishing, I'm still not sure what to think of it, or even how to best describe it. I've never read anything even remotely similar so I'll give it points right away for that. Better described as a work of art instead of fiction, and both very strange and yet creative, unsettling and yet sometimes delightful, it's a weird blend of a fictional, but compellingly realistic tale presented as a true story, and an anatomical fantasy medical book with breathtaking illustrations. The first, novel half of the story reads as a biography rather than a work of fiction, and I couldn't decide whether I would have preferred it to be a more traditional story style, or whether I loved how the tone and mood of it made you completely suspend disbelief in a way most fantasy novels can't. Either way, the unflinching, creepy, and grotesque tale of a man's spiral into madness and hubris was very compelling, and the book captured the feel of Victorian sideshows and the medical world very well. The inlaid little details, notes, posters, and subtle nods to Frankenstein also added an authentic feel of reading an old book.

There was some animal harm and graphic moments I could have definitely done without - it's squarely in the horror genre, or at least very, very dark fantasy, so not for the squeamish, but the vast majority of it kept me turning pages without stopping. The second half of the book, featuring utterly gorgeous and detailed (those details!!!) drawings with a few musings on mythical beings, was stunning - honestly I loved it more than the actual story. The immersive nature of it all left me with my skin crawling and my imagination racing - and quite impressed with the author's skill on those illustrations!

Overall, The Resurrectionist was an unusual and haunting book that left me feeling like I had peeked into an 1800s curiosity cabinet and been both spooked and impressed by what I saw there.
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feeling: gloomy
jukebox: "Don't Sleep In the Subway"-Petula Clark
 
 
Kathleen
23 June 2018 @ 09:50 pm
Peter smiled, and it was the smile of a crocodile.  
Two Peter Pan books today! Lost Boy: The True Story of Captain Hook by Christina Henry and Tiger Lily by Jodi Lynn Anderson, both unique retelling of Peter Pan



Summary on the back: There is one version of my story that everyone knows. And then there is the truth. This is how it happened. How I went from being Peter Pan's first — and favorite — lost boy to his greatest enemy. Peter brought me to his island because there were no rules and no grownups to make us mind. He brought boys from the Other Place to join in the fun, but Peter's idea of fun is sharper than a pirate's sword. Because it's never been all fun and games on the island. Our neighbors are pirates and monsters. Our toys are knife and stick and rock — the kinds of playthings that bite. Peter promised we would all be young and happy forever.

My thoughts: Lost Boy was exactly what I'd hoped for: a prequel instead of a retelling. This is the Peter I want - cruel, deviously clever, more monster than child, yet seemingly unaware that any of his actions are evil. Jamie is a tragic protagonist, mostly because we know exactly where he'll end up. Here, he's a protective, almost sweet boy, who, unlike Peter, is growing up, albeit very slowly. He's both young and impossibly old, and obviously weary of Peter's endless, increasingly hateful games. His near worship of Peter crumbles into disenchantment and finally hatred as truths about his past are revealed, and Peter spirals more into jealousy and hatred. Jamie serves as the father figure for the lost boys, something Peter resents, none more so than little Charlie who Peter clearly hates and plans to get rid of. The boys each had their own personalities, something a lot of versions tend to not bother with, and Neverland is rich and frightening. I also loved the references to our world as "the other place". The plot is dark, but refrains from too much gore. I live for dark Peter Pan tales, and Lost Boy is more Lord of the Flies than a fairytale. It's very well written, and an excellent emotional balance between a child's and adult's story. I loved how the story builds, without every reaching, the story we know, with hints of what will happen - and the evocative moments, like Jamie losing his hand, were very well done. I would have liked a bit more of Sal, who felt a bit unnecessary as a character except to give Jamie more pain and motivation for his ultimate choice. Overall, Lost Boy was a poignant, often haunting book, and the Hook-focused tale I've been searching for.

Summary on the back: Before Peter Pan belonged to Wendy, he belonged to the girl with the crow feather in her hair... Fifteen-year-old Tiger Lily doesn't believe in love stories or happy endings. Then she meets the alluring teenage Peter Pan in the forbidden woods of Neverland and immediately falls under his spell. Peter is unlike anyone she's ever known. Impetuous and brave, he both scares and enthralls her. As the leader of the Lost Boys, the most fearsome of Neverland's inhabitants, Peter is an unthinkable match for Tiger Lily. Soon, she is risking everything—her family, her future—to be with him. When she is faced with marriage to a terrible man in her own tribe, she must choose between the life she's always known and running away to an uncertain future with Peter. With enemies threatening to tear them apart, the lovers seem doomed. But it's the arrival of Wendy Darling, an English girl who's everything Tiger Lily is not, that leads Tiger Lily to discover that the most dangerous enemies can live inside even the most loyal and loving heart.

My thoughts: This book was gorgeous. I haven't found many Peter Pan retellings yet, and none I cared for, so it was a complete delight to find this one. The writing was beautiful, and the plot, although slow moving, was immersive, etched with an aching sense of loss. The narration took a while for me to get used to - it seemed an odd choice at first for Tinkerbell to narrate Tiger Lily's story - but I ended up really enjoying her point of view, partially endearing, partially heart-wrenching, as well as the glimpses into Tinkerbell's past. Tiger Lily was an intriguing, complex character, and I absolutely adored Pine Sap and her relationship with him. Peter was perfect, with the darkness and danger mixed with a sense of loss, much less innocent than most portrayals of him. Wendy was a little more difficult to get into; I usually love her but there was something unnervingly manipulative about her here, that put me off.

Tiger Lily doesn't try to be modern or gritty like so many retellings, only to dive deeper into the original tale, and it succeeds tremendously. It's insightful, touching, and occasionally raw, exploring first - but not final - love, and childhood in a realistic and honest way that tugged on my heart. The world building was brilliant, expanding on the hints of darkness in the original story and building from there - I loved the origin of the Ticking Crocodile! - and the pirates were more complex than in the original story, even if I'm not sure how I feel about Smee being a deranged murderer. I also liked how much more detailed Tiger Lily's tribe was, and how, for the first time, Neverland felt like a real place instead of an imaginary story world. The concept of Neverland's anti-aging properties - people halting aging at a profound event in their lives - was completely fascinating, as well as the idea that it didn't work for the strangers who arrive in ships. The ending was bittersweet - excellent, and surprisingly happy in some aspects - but still painfully sad. And that final letter completely messed me up.

I had some minor quibbles - the background characters, especially the Lost Boys, were slightly underdeveloped and relegated to comic relief, although I really loved the cuteness of Baby, and the book felt on the short side, but the beauty of the prose and the haunting conclusion will definitely stay with me for quite a while.
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jukebox: "Cats In The Cradle"-Harry Chapin
feeling: full
 
 
Kathleen
23 April 2018 @ 02:06 am
Snow and Rose didn't know that they were living in a fairy tale - people never do.  
[profile] msantimacassar recommended Snow & Rose by Emily Winfield Martin to me (thank you, dear!), and I finally managed to get a copy from the library.



Summary on the back: Once, they lived in a big house with spectacular gardens and an army of servants. Once, they had a father and mother who loved them more than the sun and moon. But that was before their father disappeared into the woods and their mother disappeared into sorrow. This is the story of two sisters and the enchanted woods that have been waiting for them to break a set of terrible spells.

My thoughts: Snow & Rose is a re-telling of one of my favorite under-appreciated fairytales, Snow White and Rose Red, and a lovely one at that. The writing style is simplistic but endearing, the illustrations are beautiful, and there's a beautiful whimsy to the story that makes it feel like a far older book than it is, giving it a magical feel so many re-tellings fail to capture. The setting and family relationships were wonderful, the animals delightful (including a cat named Earl Grey!), and the story was sweet and adorable without being overly sappy. There's a few minor shifts from the original story - the addition of some characters mostly - and the end was sort of a surprise (the bear's identity compared to the original story) but I really loved the changes.

There was a tiny bit of animal harm that I could have done without, but otherwise Snow & Rose was a heart-warming story that I enjoyed immensely.
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jukebox: "Michael Row the Boat Ashore"-The Highwaymen
feeling: satisfied
 
 
Kathleen
16 April 2018 @ 10:06 pm
He showed me his scars, and in return he let me pretend that I had none.  
Next on my reading list were two Greek myth retellings, Lavinia by Ursula K. Le Guin, which promised a unique point of view to The Aeneid and it did exactly that, in the most beautiful way possible, and Circe. The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller is my favorite modern book, so I was ecstatic when I heard there was a new book out by her. And, while not quite as beautifully haunting as TSOA, Circe was still entirely captivating.



Circe: Summary on the back: In the house of Helios, god of the sun and mightiest of the Titans, a daughter is born. But Circe is a strange child - not powerful, like her father, nor viciously alluring like her mother. Turning to the world of mortals for companionship, she discovers that she does possess power - the power of witchcraft, which can transform rivals into monsters and menace the gods themselves. Threatened, Zeus banishes her to a deserted island, where she hones her occult craft, tames wild beasts and crosses paths with many of the most famous figures in all of mythology, including the Minotaur, Daedalus and his doomed son Icarus, the murderous Medea, and, of course, wily Odysseus. But there is danger, too, for a woman who stands alone, and Circe unwittingly draws the wrath of both men and gods, ultimately finding herself pitted against one of the most terrifying and vengeful of the Olympians. To protect what she loves most, Circe must summon all her strength and choose, once and for all, whether she belongs with the gods she is born from, or the mortals she has come to love.

My thoughts: Madeline Miller has an impressive talent for finding the layers of Greek mythology, drawing out emotions and depth from often over-looked figures, and adding richness to well-told stories. Circe is delightful - more mortal than god, yet unquestionably divine, no more evidenced than by the dizzying number of years the plot covers as she shifts through the various roles she plays. Unlike the shallow, evil without motivations figure of mythology, her Circe is deeply flawed yet enjoyable, both frightening, rage-filled witch and innocent nymph living in the shadow of her family, with the complexity of her personality making her an intriguing combination of protagonist and antagonist at once. She gains depth and believability in the process. Less narrowly focused than Patrocles' point of view, Circe wanders among numerous familiar characters and events - the birth of the Minotaur, the judgement of Prometheus, the fall of Icarus, the darkness brewing in Medea, Scylla's shift into monster, and, of course, Odysseus's journey home. No matter how short and unimportant their appearances or role, all of these figures are fully developed and strikingly alive, even Circe's lions! - none more so than Prometheus. He's always been my very favorite myth figure, and it was a delight to see how well the author understood him - his scene with Circe was beautiful and heartbreaking.

One of my favorite things was how, despite Circe being a very strong female character, she's not limited into the traditional "strong woman" role of most fiction - she's allowed to express emotion, have frailty, make mistakes, and, in one of the most surprisingly sweet moments of the novel, become a wonderful and devoted mother, all without compromising her strength. There's so much love in Circe, despite the lack of love in her childhood and all the people who have hurt her, and it was just so wonderful. It's a love story where romance isn't the only or most important form of love, where kindness exists even in characters never thought of for such, and its exactly what more writers could learn from.

There is a great deal of violence, some of it quite graphic, but it never felt gratuitous, simply exploring the darkness that already exists in the myths. The writing - while not dripping with the punches-to-the-heart foreshadowing of TSOA - is every bit as utterly gorgeous, combining an ancient feel with more readable, but completely lovely, prose, with lifelike settings. And the ending - I actually said "wow" out loud when I finished, such an unexpected, but completely fitting conclusion. I had absolutely no complaints with Circe, a spellbinding book that left me even more in awe of Madeline Miller's talent.

Lavinia: Summary on the back: In The Aeneid, Virgil's hero fights to claim the king's daughter, Lavinia, with whom he is destined to found an empire. Lavinia herself never speaks a word. Now, Ursula K. Le Guin gives Lavinia a voice in a novel that takes us to the half-wild world of ancient Italy, when Rome was a muddy village near seven hills. Lavinia grows up knowing nothing but peace and freedom, until suitors come. Her mother wants her to marry handsome, ambitious Turnus. But omens and prophecies spoken by the sacred springs say she must marry a foreigner, that she will be the cause of a bitter war, and that her husband will not live long. When a fleet of Trojan ships sails up the Tiber, Lavinia decides to take her destiny into her own hands. And so she tells us what Virgil did not: the story of her life, and of the love of her life.

My thoughts: The Aeneid has always been my least favorite of Virgil's works, but this book made me want to read it again and gain a deeper appreciation for it. Every line, every description was stunningly gorgeous, and the world incredibly detailed to the point I felt completely immersed in the time period and setting. There were few mythological elements other than the prophecies and a handful of nods to religious practices, making the plot very historically realistic. The tone was poignant, haunting, and strangely distant, almost as if a ghost was relating it, and from the beginning to the last page there was an aching, melancholy feel as Lavinia both embraces and fights against the inevitable fate of those she loves, as well as herself.

Above everything else, I appreciated the authenticity of the characterization. Unlike a lot of historical books where the heroine has a distinctly modern way of speaking, thinking, or behaving, Lavinia seemed utterly a woman of her time, while still retaining a distinctive voice that made her feel very real despite the ancient setting. Likewise I enjoyed that elements of the setting were never explained beyond what was necessary, just simply part of the world, allowing me to fully slip into the time period so much that it was almost jarring to come back to the real world at the end. My only complaint was the pacing - the rushed nature of certain parts of the plot, especially the three years of her marriage, the somewhat confusing jumping around of flashbacks to present in the start, and the slight dragging toward the center in the battle scenes. But for the most part it didn't affect my enjoyment of the story.

Overall Lavinia was a beautiful, rich story filled with emotion and fascinating history.
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jukebox: "Popsicles,Icicles"-Murmaids
feeling: bouncy
 
 
Kathleen
23 March 2018 @ 12:59 am
We’re not courting trouble. I say. Flirting with it, at most.  
Next on my reading list was The Gentleman's Guide To Vice and Virtue by Mackenzi Lee whose amusing premise caught my eye. And it ended up being even more enjoyable than I'd hoped.



Summary on the back: Henry “Monty” Montague was born and bred to be a gentleman, but he was never one to be tamed. The finest boarding schools in England and the constant disapproval of his father haven’t been able to curb any of his roguish passions—not for gambling halls, late nights spent with a bottle of spirits, or waking up in the arms of women or men. But as Monty embarks on his Grand Tour of Europe, his quest for a life filled with pleasure and vice is in danger of coming to an end. Not only does his father expect him to take over the family’s estate upon his return, but Monty is also nursing an impossible crush on his best friend and traveling companion, Percy. Still it isn't in Monty’s nature to give up. Even with his younger sister, Felicity, in tow, he vows to make this yearlong escapade one last hedonistic hurrah and flirt with Percy from Paris to Rome. But when one of Monty’s reckless decisions turns their trip abroad into a harrowing manhunt that spans across Europe, it calls into question everything he knows, including his relationship with the boy he adores.

My thoughts: This book was so much fun. Hilarious, quirky, filled with adventure, likable and incredibly diverse characters who showed growth over the length of the plot, a realistic yet loving sibling relationship, and cavity-inducing sweet romance and friendships. The plot was unique and strange, and often crazy (pirates and shenanigans and wacky adventures galore), and yet completely impossible to put down. I fell in love with it from the very first paragraph.

The characters were the book's true strength: wonderful, believable, and often relatable, leaving me cheering when they moved beyond their pasts and into their future. I adored Monty, for all his faults, Percy was a complete sweetheart who made me tear up at times, and Felicity was one of the most delightful female characters I've come across in fiction, brilliant and strong without being the typical "strong female" characterization. Their historical road trip of Europe couldn't last long enough for me, and the number of tropes it hit - friends to lovers especially! - made it very near perfect. The balance of humor and drama was deftly handled - bouncing from lines that made me laugh out loud to scenes that made my heart clench - without ever feeling like the heavier plots were being insensitively handled, and the historical and light fantasy moments melded together easily. The amount of respect paid to all the topics and characterizations, including child abuse and disabilities, without ever making them feel unrealistic or over the top was something I wish many books would take a lesson from, and the end was satisfying in every way.

Overall, The Gentleman's Guide To Vice and Virtue was a flawless book that left me in awe of the writer's effortless style, and eager for the sequel.
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feeling: flirty
jukebox: "White Rabbit"-Jefferson Airplane
 
 
Kathleen
14 February 2018 @ 12:24 am
No one is ever really lost as long as their story still exists.  
Next on my reading list was The Dollmaker of Krakow by R.M. Romero, which caught my eye with it's unusual summary. And, while written for children, it was definitely worth reading as an adult.



Summary on the back: Karolina is a living doll whose king and queen have been overthrown. But when a strange wind spirits her away from the Land of the Dolls, she finds herself in Krakow, Poland, in the company of the Dollmaker, a man with an unusual power and a marked past. The Dollmaker has learned to keep to himself, but Karolina's courageous and compassionate manner lead him to smile and to even befriend a violin-playing father and his daughter--that is, once the Dollmaker gets over the shock of realizing a doll is speaking to him. But their newfound happiness is dashed when Nazi soldiers descend upon Poland. Karolina and the Dollmaker quickly realize that their Jewish friends are in grave danger, and they are determined to help save them, no matter what the risks.

My thoughts: Gah, this book. Such an incredible mix of ideas, prose, and sweet illustrations. The story is delicate yet powerful, beautiful yet grim, an utterly lovely and whimsical fairytale with darkness creeping closer, lurking ever just in the background. The concept is very unique and brilliant, and I adored the world-building, with The Nutcracker like inspiration for the Land of the Dolls, the rats, and toys coming to life. The plot starts gently, with an ominous feel, then grows darker, before turning light again at the end. The prose is simple, but lovely, with often startlingly deep thoughts contrasted against a touching purity. Karolina's innocence and outside perspective makes for poignant and fascinating insight into the best and very worst of human nature, as does the entire world of the dolls when contrasted with the human world - I was especially taken by the little soldier doll's view of the little boy he once cared for, now grown into a Nazi. All the characters are ordinary, realistic people (I appreciated the disabilities representation), and I loved the characters, especially dear little Rena, and ached when several of them didn't survive the book. The relationships - familial and friendship - are wonderful.

There is a bit of animal harm at the hands of the villains (the animals are healed through magic) which I could have done without, but otherwise, the subject matter is handled in a very sensitive manner, and the message (as well as the author's end note) brought tears to my eyes. You can see how important the story is to the writer, which gave it a heartfelt feel many books seem to lack. I grew up reading a lot of vintage European children's books, so it was a delight to find the writer had completely captured that tone and setting, giving me a bit of nostalgia and some intriguing glimpses of WWII-era Poland, as well as Polish and Jewish tradition and folklore. And, above everything else, I especially appreciated that the most important element of the book was the emphasis on kindness.

Overall, The Dollmaker of Krakow was a stunning and haunting gem of a book that I cannot say enough good things about.
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jukebox: "Total Eclipse Of The Heart"-Bonnie Tyler
feeling: calm
 
 
Kathleen
08 February 2018 @ 05:13 am
Being different – being simply you... was it's own kind of bravery.  
I absolutely adored Brightly Woven by Alexandra Bracken, so I ended up picking up another of her books, The Dreadful Tale of Prosper Redding, to read next. And, if she wasn't before, she's now officially my favorite YA writer.



Summary on the back: Prosper is the only unexceptional Redding in his old and storied family history — that is, until he discovers the demon living inside him. Turns out Prosper's great-great-great-great-great-something grandfather made — and then broke — a contract with a malefactor, a demon who exchanges fortune for eternal servitude. And, weirdly enough, four-thousand-year-old Alastor isn't exactly the forgiving type. The fiend has reawakened with one purpose — to destroy the family whose success he ensured and who then betrayed him. With only days to break the curse and banish Alastor back to the demon realm, Prosper is playing unwilling host to the fiend, who delights in tormenting him with nasty insults and constant attempts trick him into a contract. Yeah, Prosper will take his future without a side of eternal servitude, thanks. Little does Prosper know, the malefactor's control over his body grows stronger with each passing night, and there's a lot Alastor isn't telling his dim-witted (but admittedly strong-willed) human host.

My thoughts: I initially didn't realize this was intended for middle-school readers, since it was very well-written and entertaining. There were so many things to love - the Puritan names instead of the random weird ones of most YA books, for one. Prosper was an instantly likable protagonist - such a refreshing mix of a well-intentioned boy who ends up way over his head, and a somewhat snarky narrator. I loved his selflessness and devotion to his parents and sister - Prue and his relationship was lovely, even if there wasn't quite as much of it as I would have preferred. And, I might add, I'm absolutely thrilled that the main focus in the book, instead of romance or love triangles, was family relationships, both good and bad, and all interesting. Prosper and Nell's relationship - platonic! - was very sweet. Alastor, despite being an evil demon, won me over from the very start, often making me laugh (the over the top Shakespearean insults were the frosting on the cake, to be honest), and truly care about what happened to him. I appreciated how different his POV was from Prosper's, and how, despite sharing his body, how unique his personality was compared to his. Their dynamic was fascinating, especially as the plot progressed. The side characters were delightful - dear little Toad (I desperately want a bat/cat now!), quirky witch Nell, and the hapless hobgoblin who ends up Alastor's servant. The plot was the ideal blend of hilarious humor and genuine creepiness, never slow or boring at any point, and honestly, I wish I'd found it in October because it was exactly the perfect Halloween story. Every element was just the right amount of whimsy and goosebumps, with enough pumpkins and small town charm to make me completely fall in love with it's world. So much atmosphere! I loved all the 1600s references, and how the offscreen characters, particularly Honor Redding, still felt like living, breathing characters, even without directly being in the story.

The end twist of who the villains were seemed a bit too obvious to me - but probably would have gone right over my head in middle school, so... The end, though, left me desperately wanting more - I'm assuming she's planning a sequel because ending it right there would have been way too cruel and frustrating, and, if so, I'm eagerly looking forward to seeing what happens next, as well as exploring the new setting I'm assuming most of the next book will have. Overall, I found The Dreadful Tale of Prosper Redding to be a heartwarming and adorable book, and nearly tailor made for my tastes.
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feeling: busy
jukebox: "Gypsy Woman"-Brian Hyland
 
 
Kathleen
21 January 2018 @ 04:26 am
With Your Shield or Upon It  
Title: With Your Shield or Upon It
Fandom: Captain America: The First Avenger/The Winter Soldier/Civil War, The Avengers
Summary: The world has changed and he has not.
Genre: angst, drama
Characters: Steve, Bucky, Tony
Pairings: gen or Steve/Bucky
Warnings: written shortly after Infinity War.

( Oh, to see what they did to you. It would break your Captain's heart. ) 
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jukebox: "Tracy"-Cufflinks
feeling: drained