Author Archives: sadie

Kill Me Now

Review of Kill Me Now, by Timmy Reed

I won a copy of Timmy Reed‘s Kill Me Now though Goodreads.

Goodreads:
Miles Lover is an imaginative but insecure adolescent skateboarder with an unfortunate nickname, about to face his first semester of high school in the fall. In Kill Me Now, Miles exists in a liminal space―between junior high and high school, and between three houses: his mother’s, his father’s, and the now vacant house his family used to call home in a leafy, green neighborhood of north Baltimore. Miles struggles against his parents, his younger identical twin sisters, his probation officer, his old friends, his summer reading list, and his personal essay assignment (having to keep a journal). More than anything, though, he wrestles with himself and the fears that come with growing up.

It’s not until Miles begins a mutually beneficial friendship with a new elderly neighbor―whom his sisters spy on and suspect of murder―that he begins to find some understanding of lives different than his own, of the plain acceptance of true friends, and, maybe, just a little of himself in time to start a whole new year. When you’re green, you grow, he learns. But when you’re ripe, you rot.

Review:
Being a 14-year-old boy must suck. Being a 14-year-old girl had it’s challenges, being 14 in general does, but being a 14-year-old boy sounds like the pits. Such were my thoughts while reading Kill Me Now.

I liked this more than I expected. It reminded me A LOT of The Perks of Being a Wallflower. Though TPoBaWF has a certain gentleness that this lacks, there are a lot of similarities. Miles Lover isn’t quite as cerebral as Charlie Scorsoni, but he engages in  the same kind of stream of consciousness writing to an unknown reader. He is the same kind of socially awkward that leaves you wondering if he’s on the spectrum somewhere. And Kill Me Now puts a 14-year-old, not a child/not an adult into the same situations that people (and therefore their media) pretends they don’t engage in—drugs, alcohol, sex, casual cruelty, etc. And like The Perks of Being a Wallflower this challenging of the national script is what I appreciated most about the book. Because I have never known youths to be as pure as people like to insist they are.

I was uncomfortable with the casual racism, repeated use of Retard as a nickname, and the overt sexualization of prepubescent girls. (This one bothered me a lot more than the 14-year-old giving Miles a BJ or the rumors that his 13-year-old sisters had done the same to someone else.) I understand Reed probably included these for a reason. But I don’t know what it was. To showcase the poor decision-making of Miles and his friends, teens in general, maybe?

All in all, I think if you liked Chbosky’s wallflower, you’ll like this grittier version of the same idea. But if you didn’t like The Perks of Being a Wallflower, I feel confident saying you won’t like Kill Me Now either.

Book Review of The Shape of Water, by Guillermo del Toro & Daniel Kraus

I borrowed a copy of Guillermo Del Toro and Daniel KrausThe Shape of Water from the library.

Description from Goodreads:
It is 1962, and Elisa Esposito—mute her whole life, orphaned as a child—is struggling with her humdrum existence as a janitor working the graveyard shift at Baltimore’s Occam Aerospace Research Center. Were it not for Zelda, a protective coworker, and Giles, her loving neighbor, she doesn’t know how she’d make it through the day.

Then, one fateful night, she sees something she was never meant to see, the Center’s most sensitive asset ever: an amphibious man, captured in the Amazon, to be studied for Cold War advancements. The creature is terrifying but also magnificent, capable of language and of understanding emotions…and Elisa can’t keep away. Using sign language, the two learn to communicate. Soon, affection turns into love, and the creature becomes Elisa’s sole reason to live.

But outside forces are pressing in. Richard Strickland, the obsessed soldier who tracked the asset through the Amazon, wants nothing more than to dissect it before the Russians get a chance to steal it. Elisa has no choice but to risk everything to save her beloved. With the help of Zelda and Giles, Elisa hatches a plan to break out the creature. But Strickland is on to them. And the Russians are, indeed, coming.

Review:
I’m surprised at how much I enjoyed this. While I understand this was developed along-side the movie, not based on it, I usually find book from movies quite shallow. So, I wasn’t expecting much. Which means the depth and shades of grey in this book was a pleasant surprise. I loved the writing style and characters, especially Giles. Plus, how so many characters crossed paths without ever knowing it.

It wasn’t faultless. I found it’s message, while admirable, too bluntly relayed. It was a bit in your face. And Strickland’s mania went too far, much farther than needed anyhow. Having said that, as much as I detested him (of course I did), he was also one of my favorite characters. Favorite in the sense that there was the most to him. He was horrible, just a monster. But he was also profoundly broken and trying desperately to unfuck himself (but too dysfunctional to have any hope of succeeding or recognizing that fact). I’ve not seen the movie. But I wonder if they could have brought this to the screen without his internal monologues. Lastly, I thought the ending, while predictable, wrapped it all up a little too nicely. (Unless of course you read the whole thing to have been orchestrated by Deus Branquia in order to get from South America to New York to find Elisa, which after the last scenes I kind of do. That brings an element of sacrifice I appreciate. )

Chicagoland Vampires

Book Review of Chicagoland Vampires, by Chloe Neill

From Hoopla, I borrowed and listened to the first five Chicagoland Vampire books: Some Girls Bite, Friday Night Bites, Twice Bitten, Hard Bitten, Drink Deep. I only bothered reviewing the first and what turned out to be my last though. Middle books are so often just “ditto.” Especially when the series is read back to back, and feels like a single reading experience.

Description:
Sure, the life of a graduate student wasn’t exactly glamorous, but I was doing fine until Chicago’s vampires announced their existence to the world. When a rogue vampire attacked me, I was lucky he only got a sip. Another bloodsucker scared him off and decided the best way to save my life was to make me the walking undead.

Now I’ve traded sweating over my thesis for learning to fit in at a Hyde Park mansion full of vamps loyal to Ethan “Lord o’ the Manor” Sullivan. Of course, as a tall, green-eyed,
four-hundred-year-old vampire, he has centuries’ worth of charm, but unfortunately he expects my gratitude—and servitude. Right…

But someone’s out to get me. Is it the rogue vampire who bit me? A vamp from a rival House? An angry mob bearing torches?

My initiation into Chicago’s nightlife may be the first skirmish in a war—and there will be blood.

Review:
This was dated, but I still found it entertaining. It does have a serious case of “she’s so special” going on. The heroine breaks the rules from day one, setting herself aside from others, and is allowed to get away with it. This is a plot device that always annoys me. All the powerful males are attracted to her because she’s so prickly and refuses to submit. But WHY exactly is she allowed to act this way when anyone else wouldn’t? No idea.

Having said that, as a first in a series, it was fun. I’ll give it one more book before I judge, because I really do feel like this one was mostly all just set up. I thought Cynthia Holloway did a good job with the narration, as I listened to the audio version. But I gotta say, this cover is atrocious!


I gave it four more books, my opinion didn’t really change much. But as the series went on and I felt nothing progressed, I became less tolerant of the things that annoyed me and eventually just didn’t want to follow it anymore. In the end, it fizzles for me. I finished book five and then made the following note:

I technically have the next book in this series (Biting Cold), but I don’t think I’ll bother reading it. I think I’ll stop now. I liked Merrit and her crew, but the plots are just getting too ridiculous and predictable. I can only stand so many books in a row in which the supernaturally special heroine, who somehow bypassed being new and inexperienced and EARNING trust, struggles against the short-sighted and self-important bureaucracy. It’s like no matter what else the plot involves, the megalomaniac leader who the good guys have to work around just gets changed out, washed and repeated. I’m bored with it now. And I think the author must even know the books were becoming overly formulaic. There’s a joke about how the main character loves a series, despite it becoming just so.