Red Rising is what I've considered the worst book I've read in this past year, which is actually quite saying a lot when I've completely hated The Women by Kristen Hannah as well.

There is probably not one aspect of the book that I did not dislike, except maybe the characterization of the SOME of the non-protagonists.

The book was recommended to me by a friend of mine, who is quite well read, so I thought I was in for a treat. She did say that it was the worst book in the series, but I could not believe how empty and hollow the book was, to the point I was close to DNF, but I stuck to it because I wanted to know the depths of my dislike for the book.

The prose is in repetitive short sentences, with a tendency to be melodramatic. The book likes to set-up things haphazardly like the martyrdom, trickster protagonist, and romances without actually earning that characterization whatsoever. Basically claiming credit for payoffs with little set-up and no actual pay-offs.

Plus, it was quite obvious what time period the book itself was written in, right after the popularity of the Hunger Games, but it lacks even the moderate depth of what makes the Hunger Games popular. The book is incredibly 'small-ball' in the overarching plot, and I know this despite not having read the rest of the series.

Darrow is a Gary Stu who is so full of himself at every step of the way that he doesn't really have an internal struggle whatsoever. He does literally nothing different from what an actual Gold would have done in his position, which creates such a huge narrative dissonance from his stated goal of breaking the empire from within, and doing it by thinking outside of the box. Again, completely unearned characterization, with no payoff or set-up.

The women are just pieces to move the plot forward by being killed or raped. Incredibly insane how popular this first book is.

I haven't seen this posted here yet and am interested to hear people's thoughts! I usually read the shortlist but haven't been able to this year.

#PrincessBride
#TheUnabridgedEditionIsOutThere

Romance and Romantasy are very popular right now. I don’t want to yuck anyone’s yum, but that’s just not my thing.

I’ve been burned by a few books lately where the story has sounded great on paper, but the reality is that it’s a flimsy vehicle for a romance. Recently, (Mostly) Human Resources by Grace Viall.

To be clear: I’m not advocating for censorship or in any way judging what other people read. I’m also not a prude. I’ll read literotica if I’m in the mood. I don’t have negative feelings towards the romance genre or its followers.

But…I do find myself yearning for the pre-mainstream days of romance. When it was its own genre, and readers could either choose to engage with it or not.

Personally, 9 times out of 10 I would prefer a narrative-driven story with characters that are more complex than the uglies they would like to bump.

Conversely, the person next to me on the bus may want to read about sexy werewolves and tight-laced Victorian monster hunters overcoming their differences and ending up in a rapturous embrace.

There’s room for both.

I just wish they’d either stayed as separate books, or that there was a more reliable way right now to determine in advance what kind of story you’d signed up for.

Am I alone?

Edit: The example I gave (Mostly Human Resources) was just that - an example. Genuine thanks to those who have suggested ways to research new titles. But I still think it would be better if there was a way to tell if a book was “3 romance tropes in a coat” masquerading as a story in advance without having to look up multiple websites.

If your library partners with the Libby, Libby has features to filter out AI text, graphics, narration, and translation. (Steps below taken from an infographic from my local library)

1 – Open the LIBBY app

2 – At the bottom of the screen, click the circle for your account

3 – Scroll down to Settings

4 – Click Content Controls

5 – Click AI Contributions

6 – Select HUMAN ONLY for any categories where you want to exclude AI: Text, Audio, Graphics, and/or Translation

7 – Scroll down to Where to apply filters and turn off Deep search only

8 – YOU ARE DONE!

Credit goes to /u/blodeuweddsdishes and his post over in /r/horrorlit

Please upvote /u/blodeuweddsdishes post over in /r/horrorlit

Does anyone think Anne Brontë intended Helen Huntingdon to marry Gilbert Markham, not as a happy ending, but to make a point about certain inevitabilities of choosing the wrong person more than once?

I read The Tenant of Wildfell Hall recently, and I loved the middle section where Helen's journey and growth was detailed. She was highly infatuated with a man (Arthur Huntingdon), purely due to his looks, charm and flirtatious nature. But soon she realised he was not all she made him out to be, but she married him regardless, even though she had small worries that she'd made the wrong choice.

She believed she could save him. Boy, was she wrong. But she later learns her lesson after so much time spent in a wasted marriage.

And then she meets Gilbert Markham. He's self-centred, impulsive, possessive, and not much the self-aware gentleman he flatters himself to think he is. He keeps trying to woo her, despite her evident reluctance. Whatever may be her reasons for doing so, he sees her reluctance as something to overcome.

Even after reading her diary, he expresses his sympathy towards her marital suffering more as a formality, then laments on the fact that she tore off the pages from her diary that mentioned himself. He even mentions feeling better over the course of reading the diary, since her regard for her husband was dying out. He doesn't even mention if it was painful for him to see how much she was suffering in her marriage, or if he had any allegiance towards her objectives for little Arthur. In fact, he treats Arthur as a mere tool to get in Helen's good books, and dismisses him every time he's in a disagreement with the boy's mother.

And then there's the obvious plot point where he knocks down Frederick Lawrence, when he thinks the latter is his rival, instead of his "beloved" Helen's brother. And how changeful his attitude is, after learning Helen is not who she says she is, even though he claims he's in love with her.

And yet she ignores all of this, and swears constancy to him, and marries him at the end of the book. We can't even know how she really feels about him, because her voice has been ripped away, and we are assured of her felicity by Gilbert, instead. He is what I now recognise to be an unreliable narrator. He doesn't really grow towards the end of the book, and she doesn't fully learn her lesson about marrying a better person. Granted, this man doesn't drink or gamble, but he has so many personality flaws, not to mention violent tendencies, that it seems unnatural for her not to notice them. (To be fair, she didn't know he knocked down Lawrence.)

But then again, maybe that's the point. Sometimes, subconsciously, we choose the same people over and over again. We choose familiarity over what's objectively good for us. And maybe that was Helen's flaw. Maybe that's the trap Anne Brontë wanted to point out. A final lesson for womankind not to make the same unwise mistake again.

Maybe I'm reading into this, but I believe she made Gilbert a very flawed character on purpose. Due to the fact that he narrates the ending, it's slightly difficult to spot that he's also a terrible choice for Helen, and this is exactly where some readers would stand if put in her situation, and they were blinded by their love for him.

What do you guys think?

Spoiler details are behind spoiler tags! If y’all have any spoiler-y thoughts you can feel free to drop them with spoiler tags in the comments. At this point though I don’t think I mind spoilers.

I’m about 50% of the way through Exit Party and despite its reviews I’m incredibly bored. I am doubting myself based on what I’ve seen written in the reviews though.

I thought that the premise of a balkanized United States and “something about the party is just WRONG” sounded incredibly interesting. But my main qualm with it now is that it feels like the author was passionate about the world building and the plot took a backseat. The pacing is driving me insane - I go through several chapters highlighting the mundane ways of life in this fractured USA so they can be compared to what we do IRL, then I get at best a brief mention of the party or the doppelgänger and parallel dimensions situation. Then we’re back to driving or immigration or art or hospitals etc

What did you guys think? Did y’all enjoy this book, and did y’all notice the same issues with pacing and plot, or is this more of a “me” issue? Also, does it change or pickup in the second half of the book? I’m deciding whether to DNF

Is it more important to be free, to be remembered, or to be loved? These are questions that even when we don’t think about them, are fundamental to us as a species. Humans thrive on love and attention; there have been studies done that show as much. As a species we yearn to leave our mark for generations after us, to know that we were here and to love us for the impacts we made in our lifetimes. But is there an objective measurement or line for what determines freedom, love, and remembrance? Is the woman who inspired the Mona Lisa any more important than the suburban family living happily trying to make ends meet? Will their impact on the world be less because the circle they’ll be remembered in will be smaller?

In V.E. Schwab’s fantasy/romance story, we follow these questions as they are explored by a young woman named Adeline (Addie) LaRue. When Addie makes a bargain with a dark God in 1714, she makes it in desperation; the desperation to escape the life she lives and her own fears of of an unwanted future. But nothing good ever comes for free, and her bargain has one stipulation: she will never be remembered by any person she meets, and nothing she does will be remembered or have an impact on the world around her.

Through the centuries we follow Addie as she grapples with what it means to be free, to be loved, and to be remembered. She explores her independence, identity, and what it means to exist on a fundamental level. In The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue, V.E. Schwab explores the paradox of freedom, the enduring relationship between art and memory, and the distinction between existing and truly living to argue that the meaning of life is not determined by its length or the absence of limitations, but by the connections we form, the experiences we embrace, and the lasting impact we leave on others.

The Restrictions of Freedom

Schwab presents freedom as a paradox, throughout the book she shows that the pursuit of absolute independence can create its own forms of imprisonment and isolation. It is easy to empathize with Addie, she is a young woman that doesn’t want to be tied down to the social expectations of a small village in 18th century France. While simple, her wish “I want to be free” (part one, ch. 9), is something that resonates with us all no matter what time period we are in. Fear of stagnation and of obscurity cloud Addie’s judgement as she reaches out to the darkness (Luc) willing to give anything for that escape. 

In making her wish, Addie wants additional time to live a life and an existence free of the expectations that f marriage and society at the time. However, all that glitters is not gold, and the wish acts as a foreshadowing of the stipulations Luc will place in her bargain. In a dark and ironic twist her freedom comes at the expense of never being able to truly belong anywhere or to anyone. A lifetime of fleeting and inconsequential memories to everyone she encounters while also remembering everything herself. 

One of the ways Schwab highlights this is when Addie goes back to her family and they don’t remember her. Even her best friend Estele has forgotten her when she goes to visit her (part one, ch. 10). Addie begins to see the stipulations Luc has set; she wanted to be free from the constraints of familial and societal expectations and now she has lost her place within both. Schwab juxtaposes her immediate freedom with complete isolation. In doing this, she argues that freedom can become meaningless when it eliminates the relationships that give life meaning. 

Later in the story, we see Luc attempting to provide Addie with the things she doesn’t have, affection, a home, the appearance of stability, and a sense of belonging (part 6, chs. 12-15). But looking at everything she is being given, Addie sees it for what it is, just a charade. Luc’s gifts only give the appearance of freedom because they aren’t things Addie has independently obtained. Through the story we also see Luc’s senses of entitlement and possession over Addie, which highlight the ever existing power dynamics between them both. As Addie’s character develops we see her begin to deeply value genuine autonomy over comfort controlled by someone else.

The paradox of freedom is a theme explored through the entirety of the book, and through the examples above we see how freedom isn’t just the absence of physical restrictions, but also the ability to freely make our own decisions without coercion. As we grow more empathetic to Addie, we see her becoming more cunning as she tries to ensure her freedoms are not coerced and that she is able to leave a mark and to make her choices matter. She finds a loophole: art.

The Art of Memory

A second key theme in Schwab’s book is art and its representation as a form of memory. Schwab presents various forms of art as a means of preserving identity and overcoming the limitations of human memory, suggesting that creative expression allows individuals to leave an enduring mark on the world. Addie considers this a key “loophole” to her contract with Luc.

The first time we see this is in part 1, chapter 1. Addie wakes up to a musician named Toby who doesn’t remember her. But without realizing it, Addie has become an influence in a song he is composing. This symbolizes that a piece of her will be remembered even if Toby doesn’t remember her directly. In a sense, music is used to symbolize the enduring influence of human experiences.

The recurring idea that art is an alternative to conventional remembrance comes up often in the story. From musicians, to poets, and painters, there is art centuries apart that depict a young woman with seven freckles. While her name is lost to history, the impact she leaves is felt throughout the story. Nowhere is this shown more heavily than through her relationship with Henry, the boy who remembers.

Henry is the one boy who remembers her, and in doing so, they develop a deep bond that will persist through the rest of the story. Henry is the first person since her deal was made that remembers her. He takes it upon himself to write Addie’s story as told by her; he transcribes her story so that her existence is remembered by all those who read her story. The reader is meant to engage with Henry’s book, not Schwab’s. The book is a manifested representation of Addie’s enduring legacy.

Existing vs. Truly Living

The third core theme in Schwab’s book is figuring out the difference between just existing and truly living. While the theme is spread throughout the story, the reader sees it presented most transparently in Addie’s interactions and developing relationship with Henry through the later part of the story. Through the contrast between Addie’s immortality and Henry’s mortality, Schwab suggests that the significance of life comes from authentic relationships and meaningful experiences rather than the amount of time a person possesses.

Addie is a woman who has lived for over three hundred years, and she has watched her mother, father, best friend, and her town all live, breathe, and die or change while remaining the same. She has seen revolutions and wars, cultural shifts, and political ones. But Henry’s contrasting life makes her truly feel how precious time is.

Henry also made a deal with Luc, but in reverse. Where Addie wanted to live and got immortality, Henry just wanted to be seen and loved for who he truly was. What he got was a year of people seeing him exactly as they wanted him for an entire year. As a representation of the deal, Henry receives a watch from Luc counting down his time that has “live well” inscribed on it. Even though the reader won’t understand the significance of this until a bit later in the story. The watch acts as a constant reminder of both the passing time and the inevitability of Henry’s mortality. It is an important literary tool in the story to represent the difference between having time and using it meaningfully. It also represents the idea that one’s life cannot be measured in the amount of time attached to it.

Throughout the duration of Henry’s deal he is cursed with everyone seeing him exactly how they want to see him, not how he wants to be seen. This acts as a juxtaposition to Addie, who wants to be seen and remembered, but is eternally forgotten. While both characters exhibit a profound sense of isolation in the story, they experience it differently. Having the love you want versus being denied the love you crave, in this, Henry realizes that universal affection does not create meaningful relationships. Henry’s dissatisfaction with his deal highlights the importance of authenticity in human connection.

The way Henry’s life compliments hers, Addie begins to reflect on whether life’s beauty justifies its suffering. During their remaining time together, Henry asks Addie if all of the good times she has experienced justified the centuries of suffering and isolation she has had to endure. Addie’s confirmations that the suffering was worth it highlights her appreciation for experience despite the emotional costs involved. This intimate exchange brings to mind the philosophical questions as to what gives life meaning in the face of suffering. Schwab uses this interaction to illustrate that pain and impermanence do not diminish the value of human experiences.

Conclusion

In The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue, V.E. Schwab explores the paradox of freedom, the enduring relationship between art and memory, and the distinction between existing and truly living to argue that the meaning of life is not determined by its length or the absence of limitations, but by the connections we form, the experiences we embrace, and the lasting impact we leave on others. Schwab’s three core themes – the paradox of freedom, the relationship between art and memory, and the distinction between existing and truly living-reinforce one another by exploring the overarching question: what makes a human life meaningful? These are the building blocks of Addie’s journey, and Henry’s. It is important to note that Addie’s development through the story is not as simple as her abandoning her ideals of freedom in favor of love and remembrance, she continues to defend her autonomy, particularly with Luc. Her development is more nuanced because she comes to the conclusions that a meaningful life includes the ability to choose our own path and the opportunity to form connections along the way.

Schwab does not present freedom, remembrance, and connection as competing goals, she presents them as interdependent aspects of a more fulfilling existence. On a deeper level, Schwab suggests that human identity exists in the crossroads between self-determination and the need for recognition. While she never fully explores this theme, it sits there on the edges waiting to be explored more. It is left up to the readers to explore that theme more and to come up with their own conclusions.

The themes of freedom, art and memory, and meaningful existence in Addie’s story reinforce one another by revealing the complex relationship between independence, identity, and human connection. Addie’s pursuit of freedom initially grants her an existence without conventional limitations, yet her inability to be remembered exposes the emotional consequences of complete independence. Her subsequent influence on art demonstrates the human desire to preserve identity and establish a lasting legacy, while her relationship with Henry reveals that remembrance alone cannot provide the fulfillment found in genuine connection. Through these interconnected themes, Schwab challenges conventional understandings of freedom and immortality. She suggests that the value of human life is not determined by its duration or permanence, but by the relationships, experiences, and choices that give it meaning. Addie’s journey illustrates that truly living requires more than the freedom to exist; it requires finding something or someone worth existing for.

I read all three parts in less than a week. And while I found it boring at first, it actually kind of git interesting as it went on. The last part, Janet's Repentence, really felt touching in particular with how the main heroine found happiness and ended up resonating a lot for me even if I am not religious in real life. I picked it up given I've taken an interest in Eliot after reading The Mill on the Floss which I liked well, and while it was not as good it still had some postives to it and willl read another of Eliot's longer novels when I finish other stuff on my list.

I mean, it's 3,000 pages. And it's blocks of text with no white space, no dialogue, just descriptions of flowers or churches or someone's psychological state. There's barely any plot. This guy was nuts.

It's said that some books teach you how to think. Proust teaches you how to feel. He has the ability (one peculiar to the almost pathologically introspective) to notice even the most fleeting, evanescent emotion, the kind that non-neurotic people don't even register, catch it before it vanishes, and put it under a microscope. Then he scrutinizes it from every angle, classifies every organelle and every protein, pours reagents over it, and writes an entire treatise on that particular 0.13 second emotional shiver.

Then he moves on to the next one. And keeps going like this for 3,000 pages.

By the end (if you make it to the end), you'll have become hypersensitive to yourself and the world around you. Your inner antennae will be so finely tuned that they'll vibrate at the faintest emotional breezes, the kind you would previously have been completely oblivious to. Your sensory taste buds will be raw nerve endings, and the slightest caress will make them scream.

I'm not saying this is a desirable outcome, but it's what Proust will do to you.

Exactly, as the title says. I made a post for a horror fae lit on another subreddit, and this book came up quite a bit. I am not going to give spoilers but i do think this is a must read. If you are sensitive to SA/child neglect/abuse avoid this, I will say the themes are discussed matter of factly as they are told from the view of a psychologist and what he believes to be happening.

I read it a few weeks ago now but I just can't get the concept and delivery out of my head. Maybe it's the psychologist in me but as soon as I was through the first chapter I was pulled into exactly what the author was leading me into of 'a trauma to psychosis' explanation for the whole world the MC believed in.

But never have I been so happy to flip flop with what I believe to be happening.

If you are getting bored of the fae romance and faeries who are just humans with pointy ears and alpha complexes. Read this.

Welcome to our weekly recommendation thread! A few years ago now the mod team decided to condense the many "suggest some books" threads into one big mega-thread, in order to consolidate the subreddit and diversify the front page a little. Since then, we have removed suggestion threads and directed their posters to this thread instead. This tradition continues, so let's jump right in!

The Rules

• Every comment in reply to this self-post must be a request for suggestions.

• All suggestions made in this thread must be direct replies to other people's requests. Do not post suggestions in reply to this self-post.

• All unrelated comments will be deleted in the interest of cleanliness.

How to get the best recommendations

The most successful recommendation requests include a description of the kind of book being sought. This might be a particular kind of protagonist, setting, plot, atmosphere, theme, or subject matter. You may be looking for something similar to another book (or film, TV show, game, etc), and examples are great! Just be sure to explain what you liked about them too. Other helpful things to think about are genre, length and reading level.

All Weekly Recommendation Threads are linked below the header throughout the week to guarantee that this thread remains active day-to-day. For those bursting with books that you are hungry to suggest, we've set the suggested sort to new; you may need to set this manually if your app or settings ignores suggested sort.

If this thread has not slaked your desire for tasty book suggestions, we propose that you head on over to the aptly named subreddit /r/suggestmeabook.

• The Management

Every now and then I like to see how my taste compares to the average of the masses on goodreads. I sorted my Read books by my rating 5-stars then pulled out the books with lowest average score from the community. Without further ado...

Mirror in the Well - 167 ratings, avg 3.33

I heard about it from Ana Wallace Johnsons booktube account. It is the story of a married woman having an affair. It is mostly made of up stream of consciousness fever-dream like descriptions of him performing oral sex on her. There is a lot of passion, but it's also kind of unsettling.

Tampa - 63.8K reviews, avg 3.33

Loosely based on a true story, this is the story of a female teacher grooming and sexually abusing her male student. No surprise why it is so easy to hate this book. The reader really feels like they are living inside the head of a sociopath and it isn't a pretty place to be. It made me feel disgusting, but I give high marks for any book that can elicit such a strong emotion from me.

Wetlands - 12.5K reviews, avg 2.88

This book is crazy. Loosely, the plot is about a young woman who has an abscess of on butt. For 200 pages you will engage with vivid descriptions of pus, feces, semen, urine, and all sorts of smells and tastes. I gave it 5-stars for being one of the weirdest and pointless things I've ever read.

Just finished this book last night and it’s been a journey! I definitely enjoyed it (LOVED She’s Come Undone) I do think it was a bit too long and found the grandpa chapters a bit of a slog to get through (how can one person be SO awful??). Something that I have been hung up on after finishing the book and also while reading it, was Dominick raping Dessa? It’s not really addressed past that chapter and it really bothered me! I don’t know, just wanted to see other people’s thoughts on this?

And after having only heard and rwad about it for more than a decade, I finally have got to experiance the whole book. And I do feel a bit complicated. Part one was quite amusing with the debates over which chilvaric books were good and which were harmful and needed to be destroyed based on arbitary logic. Really shows how outrage and often contradictory attitudes toward media (like TV and video games along with books) is not new. And some of the adventures were amusing if not the most memorable. However, it really dragged near the end, with the same discussions over chilvary books getting stale and while the stories within the story near the last chapters were interesting they did sort of interupt the story of Don Quixote. However, the ending where Don Quixote's friends trick him into thinking he was in an enchanted prison and take him home did make up for the dullness near end. Then the second part for the most part was better. The part where Don Quixote attacks the puppets he mistakes for real people was amusing. And the Duke and Duchess arc while it seemed to drag at first, ended up my favorite part of the whole book, mainly with how Sancho runs a governorship, with the funniest part being the doctor taking away all the delicous food and only letting him eat wafers and jam. And the whole satire on real life government (ironically being closer to the prank than Sancho's idealized fantasy) was a unique masterpiece I've never read before. After though, the book does kind of fizzle out once again. The satire of the unauthorized sequel was clever on paper but in execution did feel more petty. And the anticlimatic end kind of fits thematicaly but still feels a whimper to end the story. Not sure I'd call the book a personal favorite but I don't regret reading it (after all I genuinely enjoyed the government satire and the antics Sancho went through during the arc I mentioned above). And can now say I've read what is regarded as one of the most important works of literature. Anyone else may agree or disagree with my overall verdict.

I recently searched out Pulitzer winning books with queer representation, and decided on Less by Andrew Sean Greer. There were a few points where it dragged a bit, but overall really appreciated it and the ending, with the narrator actually taking over, seriously bumped up my star rating.

I was surprised to see so many reviews on here and StoryGraph that called the book boring, particularly Arthur Less, and being dumbfounded about why it was critically acclaimed.

For me, the best part about the book was how normal Arthur Less was, yet he still experienced so much love in his life. He was important (and attractive) to many people despite the fact he was basically an everyman. Sure, he wasn't a super exciting character, but how many of us are? He had lovable qualities and flaws, and he learns and grows a bit throughout his trip around the world, but doesn't undergo great change. Again, this is relatable.

The discussions around growing into middle age, particularly being single in middle age, were also pretty nuanced. The fears and insecurities were relatable, yet there was hope offered throughout, particularly in the end.

Yes, occasionally the prose was trying a bit too hard, but I think it worth it for some fabulous quotes.

My main point is what people seem to dislike about the book (Arthur Less not being very exciting) is what I wound up appreciating most. But then again, I'm middle age, single, and not a very exciting person.

I know it's an older book, but if anyone else has thoughts I'd love to hear them.

I made a post six months ago with my thoughts on reading Yesteryear. Here is that post. The post garnered a lot of comments and I have really loved reading everyone’s thoughts. One thing I said was that I wanted to reread it. I decided to wait a bit to do a full reread (I reread a few sections admittedly!) as opposed to doing it immediately.

I’ve picked up on so much. The first time, I was concerned with the mystery of it all. I was trying to figure it out. Now that I know what happened? Well, it’s like seeing the full forest versus seeing the trees.

Here are my thoughts as I reread…

1. I like Abigail. I’m so proud of her for leaving that useless ass Bryce. I’m proud of her for getting therapy. I want to give her a hug when she announces she’s leaving Bryce and her mom just sobs and Natalie just… well, Natalie. When she cries that she can’t do it for another 40 years. Abigail is who Natalie wishes she could be. Natalie hates Abigail for leaving because she wished she could see leaving as a viable path.

2. Natalie’s abuse of the children seems worse upon my reread (and before someone says what about Caleb - yes. Him, too). Her abuse of Mary, Abel, Noah, and Maeve was bad. She neglected them. And what she did to Mary… poor Mary.

3. The first day Shannon is there, Natalie goes to bed saying she wants to fire Shannon. Shannon is awake the next day giggling with the nannies and Natalie says Louise looks like the cat ate the canary. I believe that is when it happened. Shannon and the nannies stayed up late giggling “what if we took her down!” I’m sure the plan wasn’t fleshed out. Maybe it wasn’t even a plan. But I think the seed was planted that first night. Now, I don’t think Shannon took the job with the intention to take down Natalie. I think she was genuine in the interview. But I think what she saw that first day changed her. Maybe she was hoping to do some exposé-style documentary after what she saw. Maybe that’s why she was filming Doug at that rally.

4. Who the fuck names their kid names Junebug? The first book I kept hoping it was a nickname. Or maybe her name is June and they call her Junebug. Poor Junebug. It’s giving Jinger Duggar.

5. Now that I know who the “other” people are in pretend-1800s world (Stetson and Samuel), it’s even more haunting that Natalie didn’t recognize them. Yes, I think that’s evidence of her mental illness. But I also think it’s evidence of how little she cared for her children. My children are young (toddler and baby) but I feel like on some level my soul would know them anywhere. I feel that connected to them.

6. Mary saying “mama, I miss you” broke me.

7. Natalie and Caleb should never have gotten married. Obviously. But this book shows the dangers of fundie marriages and marrying so quickly. They didn’t even know each other and thought a general fondness was love.

In my reread, I saw less Ballerina Farm and more Turpin/Franke family.

If you read all of this, thank you. Would love to hear your thoughts, especially if you did a reread like me!

Fuck Natalie. Sorry, Lord, but really, fuck her.