Greetings, fellow book fanatics! I come bearing recommendations đ
Now, a read-alike for a book you love is not an easy thing to come by (trust me, Iâve been trying to rekindle the Selection magic for years), but if youâve read and enjoyed any of the titles on this list, I hope I can be of help to you in falling in love all over again.
(Especially if youâre a Lunar Chronicles fan who needs to read R.C. Lewisâ Stitching Snow, now. This is too important to leave until the rest of the list. Do it. Watch Jupiter Ascending (2013), and then do it.)
1. Small Favors by Erin. A Craig đ Extasia by Claire Legrand
If youâre anything like me, Erin A. Craigâs gorgeous sophomore work of horror fantasy, Small Favors, absolutely has you by the throat. With a romance that keeps you guessing, an atmospheric woodsy setting whose trials you can feel, and salient commentary to be made about how the binds between people crumble under hardship, itâs a mesmerizing work you wonât soon forget.
Extasia, though itâs a post-apocalyptic horror about witches, has a lot of the same themes, and lands them equally well. Just like Small Favors, it gets right to the heart of what makes rigid, isolated communities so dangerous, particularly for young women. Though a bit more bloody than Small Favors, Extasia is an invigoratingly vengeful response to a similar set of evils.
2. Shadow and Bone by Leigh Bardugo đ The Gilded Ones by Namina Forna
Look: I make no secret of the fact that half my personality comes from Leigh Bardugoâs Grishaverse. Iâve taken the quiz, Iâve watched the show, Iâve, umâŚread the fanfiction đ? Thereâs just something about the unrestrained fun of a girl discovering secret powers, being taken to a palace to learn how to wield them, and finding herself in a web of intrigue, that hits every time.
But nowhere else does it hit quite the same way as it does in Namina Fornaâs The Gilded Ones, where the authorâs unique combination of ultra-cinematic storytelling, explicit feminist critique, and heavy focus on on-the-page training makes this setup feel addictively fresh. The book also cinches on a masterfully-executed paradigm shift that flips our understanding of the world and its monsters right on its head. The West-African-inspired worldbuilding is also drop-everything incredible, and practically every setting Forna writes is a total stunner. (Reviewed here.)
3. Cinder by Marissa Meyer đ Stitching Snow by R. C. Lewis
My seventh grade self and I have one very important thing in common: if you pair a romp of a space opera with a fairy tale, weâre exceptionally easy to please. Such was the case when I first read Cinder: I loved the Star Wars-y energy Meyer brought to the proceedings of her Cinderella retelling, and I loved how her worldâs sense of adventure accommodated royalty and spaceships alike.
Reviewers criticized Stitching Snow for being too similar to Cinder when it first came out in 2014. Iâm here to tell you that theyâre right, but itâs entirely to the bookâs benefit. It has that same wonder, that same sense of humor, that same cocktail of space-opera worldbuilding that makes the rules of fairy tales compatible with the language of action-packed sci-fi. Plus, if youâre also a fan of the 2013 camp masterpiece Jupiter Ascending, this is the only title Iâve read so far that comes anywhere close to it in feel. You need more space Cinderella in your life, right? I think you need more space Cinderella in your life.
4. The Golden Compass by Philip Pullman đ Trial by Fire by Josephine Angelini
I was utterly captivated when I first read The Golden Compass earlier this year, and I still havenât stopped thinking about it. Itâs a sprawling work of science fantasy that begins in a world with a few striking differences from our own, and expands to cover a struggle that encompasses multiple parallel universes. It comes armed with a thoughtful examination of the responsibilities adults have to children, and worldbuilding prowess that I, as a writer, genuinely envy. None of Pullmanâs concepts seem like they should work together in theory, but itâs almost maddening how well they do.
Trial by Fire, the first in a YA trilogy by Josephine Angelini, also offers a satisfying blend of magic and sci-fi. Using some of the same principles Pullman draws upon in constructing his parallel universes, Angelini crafts a North America ruled by the witches who happened to survive their Salem trials in this timeline, anchored by a magic system that takes its cues from chemistry, and a similarly compelling set of ethical struggles. As a heads-up, this book was published in 2014, and I canât speak to how well it represents its Indigenous characters, but Angelini does make an effort to include Native peoples in her re-imagining of American history.
Thank you so much for reading! Have you read any of these books? Have any other read-alikes to share? Iâd love to hear your thoughts in the comments below đ
A rich, exultant love story with music at its core, If This Gets Out is one of the best contemporaries I’ve ever read. Following two members of a wildly popular boy band, Saturday, as their headliner tour sees them falling in love, the book offers both a fervently sincere pair of leads it’s easy to rootââand cry!ââfor, and a harrowing exploration of how record labels exploit young artists if left unchecked.
Ruben Montez, whose entertainment-industry parents offer him both a leg up and and an ever-renewing fountain of criticism, has been out as gay since the age of sixteenââin private, that is. By the time the book opens on Saturday’s American tour, he’s grown wary of Chorus Records’ assurance that he’ll get to be out in public “when it’s time.” Written with a deft hand and a sensitive eye towards his insecurities, his is a character arc that illuminates how doubt can seethe into a musician at every moment: in negotiations, in performance, and, of course, in love. Sophie Gonzales, the co-writer who tackles his POV, has nothing short of nailed it.
Cale Dietrich, meanwhile, takes real vulnerability to the book’s other lead, Zach Knight, who struggles to assert himself without feeling like he’s making an imposition on other people. With most of my reading experience in fantasy (I’m not sure if this holds if you’re well-read in contemporary), I find it’s rare that a character’s needs are rendered so manifestly in a text. Not only in the way that Zach and Ruben are open about their emotional scars with each other, though that’s its own immensely satisfying catharsis, but in the way it so clearly drives conflict and character dynamics, from the mounting crises, to the steps they have to take to solve them.
It’s because If This Gets Out is so clear about where and why its characters hurt that everything about it works so well. Romantic scars that must be overcome are key to an authentic, moving pairing, but Dietrich and Gonzales’ approach does just as much for the criticism they levy at the music industry. Ruben and the constant stream of criticism that is the inside of his head are ripe for needling from managers and executives; constantly questioning his right to be here is the lion’s share of what keeps him quiet when the label steps over the line. Zach, too, suffers because it’s all too easy for bad actors to capitalize on his need to fulfill personal obligations: you’re swallowing these conditions for the band and everyone who helps support you, they depend on you, and this is what you want anyway, right?
Suffice it to say, this book hits exactly where it needs to. Zach and Ruben’s bandmates, Angel and Jon, are also beautifully rendered, with equally manifest emotional schemes. The plotting overall has a wickedly keen sense of pacing, letting tensions linger long enough to yield the perfect release when things finally get talked through. It’s a beautiful book, but an enthralling one, too: I was always loathe to stop reading and do something else, and always giddy to return. Sometimes If This Gets Out makes you want to scream about how much these kids deserve better. Luckily, it takes the time to give it to them, too.
Thank you so much for reading! Have you given this title a go? I’d love to hear anything and everything in the comments below đ
June has been all about figuring out how to fill my summer. Should I practice chemistry for my college class in the fall? Should I pick up a new instrument? Should I be writing? I donât think any of us truly know what the âbestâ way to spend our time is, but for now, the days are long (in the Northern Hemisphere), the sunset makes the perfect light for reading by, and Iâm this close to tying my mom in Scrabble wins.
June In Books
52. The Black Cauldron by Lloyd Alexander
My dadâs complaints, though blunt, probably say it best: too many characters. The Chronicles of Prydain, of which The Black Cauldron is book two, is a middle-grade fantasy series he loved as a kid back in the 70s. (The Black Cauldron was published in 1965.) But here, Lloyd Alexander falls prey to something that seems to hinder lots of quest-fantasy types: he tries to introduce the entire fellowship by, like, page ten. This holds back everything from the reveal of a twist villain to a rivalry meant to bring out the worst in Taran, the bookâs impulsive young protagonist. For someone who likes the quintessential beats of a Tolkien-like fantasy, itâs still a fairly charming read, but The Black Cauldronâs 178 pages are still woefully few for what Alexanderâs trying to achieve.
53. Queen of the Tiles by Hanna Alkaf
Fierce rivalry with my mom notwithstanding, Queen of the Tiles is to blame for my recent obsession with Scrabble. Pitched as a murder-mystery set at a Scrabble tournament, it had me hooked from the get-go, but Alkafâs engrossing depiction of gameplayââboth in the actual matches and in the way it animates the characterâs thought process in her daily lifeââtruly shines. And, even though the mysteryâs answers at curtain werenât entirely satisfying, thereâs a lot to love in the way Alkaf writes complicated relationships that keep unfurling through grief. New, hard-to-accept layers of the main character Najwaâs best friend, Trina, keep emerging, and, despite some of the supporting players being confined to archetype, their ties to Trina, good and bad, keep changing, too.
54. The Art of the Drama by Millet & Bentley
So this long out-of-print work of theatre criticism doesnât even have a cover on Goodreads, much to my rage. But, aesthetically tarnished reading challenge row aside, this was fairly interesting and supremely verbose. Part 1 (which covers the different forms comedy and tragedy have taken over the course of theatrical history) is much better-structured and more insightful than whatever the hell was happening in Parts 2 and 3. The authors, both English professors at the time of the bookâs publication in 1935 (!!!), draw on a range of intriguing play selections that I felt compelled to actually jot down at a number of points, but Iâm afraid of the fun of this canât overcome the frustration of the reading experience. If these professors ever managed to start making points without their ‘yet’s, ‘but first we must’s, and ‘one could never’s, Iâm sure their students were grateful.
55. The Castle of Llyr by Lloyd Alexander
After a bit of a lull in The Black Cauldron, Prydain hits its stride again in book three, an adventure that pits Taran and a (much more manageably-sized) band of heroes against an enchantress, as they race to rescue a sharp-witted princess before her talents can be put to use for evil. This time around, Lloyd Alexander makes a point of emphasizing Taranâs insecurities about status, a layer of complexity that adds to an otherwise familiar tale of princes and swords. The group dynamic is inviting, the humor stays present even though the tone shifts a little darker, and the villainââthough we certainly donât see enough of her!ââis one of my favorite characters in the series. Some weaknesses still persist, but consider them sufficiently clouded by secondhand nostalgia from my dadâs middle school days đ
56. Henry VI, Part 1 by Lloyd Alexander
After trudging through Henry V, Iâm finally at the trilogy of history plays that covers The Wars of the Rosesââa massive, years-long contest for the English crown between the houses of York and Lancaster. Because this is an era with so many powerhouse players, Shakespeareâs expert ensemble work reflects that: Henry VI, Part I is not only about the floundering king, but the factions swirling around his court, the desperate wars overseas, and the new hope for Englandâs opponent at the time, the French court determined to retake their territory. Iâm of the opinion that this volume might be the best at juggling them out of all three in the Henry VI trilogy, but itâs missing some of the things that make Shakespeare at his most popular so enjoyable: if youâre looking for true agency, for example, for the playâs titular king, youâre more likely to find it elsewhere.
57. The Vorrh by B. Catling
Seeing as this book was recommended by a friend with way more eccentric taste than mine, I probably shouldâve been forewarned: this book is genuinely unnerving. Itâs a work of fantastical alternate history set in and around an impenetrable primordial forest, following a cast of strange characters with, in my opinion, very little solid connection to be found between them. Catling, a sculptor, is way more concerned with the in-the-moment experience of his writing than with its overarching structure, which yields some ultra-vivid imagery but renders the story overall pretty self-defeating. Iâm also uneasy about a white author writing about âAfricaâ in a vague way meant to evoke something like Heart of Darkness. This choice of setting strikes me as especially loaded with the white gaze, and the few Black characters Catling puts in prominent roles all read as pretty powerless.
58. This is Shakespeare by Emma Smith
If you think Shakespeareâs plays have been talked to death, you may want to take a gander at Emma Smithâs This Is Shakespeare, a volume of essays that take a bunch of brand new angles on 20 of the Bardâs plays, old favorites and overlooked gems alike. Thereâs no overarching theme, really (sometimes Smith pulls from history, sometimes she doesnât; sometimes the playsâ source material matters and sometimes it doesnât), but I think thatâs to the bookâs credit. Each essay builds its approach from scratch and you can never guess what angle Smith will take: she cracks open Romeo and Juliet as a shattered romantic comedy, re-evaluates Antony and Cleopatra in a strikingly modern lens of celebrity and scandal, and makes the case for a much more subversive Midsummer Nightâs Dream. Itâs best enjoyed, though, if this isnât your first Shakespeare rodeo: Smith does her best, but there just isnât room for background amidst all the festivities.
59. Taran Wanderer by Lloyd Alexander
Coming in fourth in The Chronicles of Prydain, right after The Castle of Llyr, this book might beââno, scratch that, isââthe best in the series. Itâs the one where Taran breaks from the battle-against-evil mold to find himself, as well as answers about his parentage, in the Prydain countryside. Lloyd Alexander not only makes the right move in denying him easy answers from start to finish; he also gives him a way to grasp at meaning that has nothing to do with his heroic role in the rest of the series. And, with something that follows medieval fantasyâs mythic prerogative the way The Chronicles of Prydain does, thatâs an opportunity all too easy to miss. When it comes to villains, as well, Taran Wanderer challenges and contrasts its namesake in all the right ways, and its somewhat open resolution bodes well for the finale ahead.
60. Henry VI, Part 2 by William Shakespeare
After the events of Henry VI, Part I, England has a new queen, the York and Lancastrian factions have new reasons to hate one another, and King Henry has a spate of new political problems right under his noseââonly some of which heâs, like, actually aware of. This play, like its prequel, is full of scheming, deliciously conniving characters like Margaret of Anjou and Richard, Duke of York, and its fair share of absolutely banger rhyming couplets. But itâs also held back by its structure. While Part I expertly wrangles three simultaneous struggles, Part II sort of parades through its royal crises, one after another, with about an act for each. It doesnât kill the suspense, but it does make me miss how well Part I pulled it off.
61. The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern
Everyone seems to be head-over-heels in love with this book. But no oneâs part of âeveryone,â every time. In this case, I can certainly agree that the atmosphere, the prose style, and the concepts that Erin Morgenstern weaves into her titular magical circus are all dutifully lovely, but her choice of distantly and omnisciently following so many characters over such a long time can make them feel more like thought experiments than like people. Especially the two romantic leads, for whom the thought experiment is âWhat if magicians on opposite sides of a duel fell in all-encompassing forbidden love?â Youâre obviously supposed to buy into it and have it sweep you off your feet, but I had to rely on the bookâs other charms. Theyâre there, to be sure, but theyâre not quite magical for the reader unless that central conceit sticks.
Did you set any reading goals for yourself at the beginning of the year?
Iâm an extremely planning- and checklist-oriented person, and I most certainly penciled in some 2022 reading goals! One was to read 100 books by yearsâ end, something Iâve been able to do three years running. I also wanted to tackle twelve classic or modern classic works of fantasy, and get closer to completing the full canon of Shakespeareâs plays. (Itâs the ex-thespian in meââI had to.)
How are you doing with them? Any youâve already met?
The 100 goal is going splendidly: as of writing this, Iâve already read 60! The fantasy challenge is about a month behind, and a little more draining than I expected it to be. In hindsight, Iâm not real good at reading any particular genre at volumeââI get tired of even my favorite things rather quickly. In fact, Iâm afraid I might have to abandon that one đś
The Shakespeare project, though, has been great. I go an act at a time, whenever I have an extra hour in a day to spare, and Iâm finally at a place where the playsââand other older texts, Elizabethan-onwardââare comfortable for me to read. Watching productions of them before reading has been a big help, and the same goes for treating the plays like rehearsal scripts and reading some of the charactersâ dialogue out loud to an empty room. It works, okay?
In summary, none are met. But for at least two, I have hope!
Are there any goals you want to add?
Perhaps! Iâve finally decided on my majors for university in the fall, and theyâre both in the realm of science: geology, and geography. As such, Iâd love to try and engage with them more through some nonfiction titles. Maybe like one, every other month, for the rest of the year?
Did you set any blogging goals? If so, how are you doing with those?
Iâve been really careful to keep the blogging low-keyââIâm already a full-time student with a novel in the works every now and then, and the last thing I need is another strict, self-imposed deadline. So, no blogging goals per se, but Iâm delighted to report that Iâve posted at least once a month, every month so far, and averted my previous pattern of loooong school year dry spells. In my book, that counts as keeping the blog alive and Iâm really pleased with it.
Thank you all so much for reading! Iâd love to hear anything and everything about your reading, your goals, or your year in general in the comments below đ
Predictably, I couldnât resist the temptation to make a TBR. For this year’s annual Jane Austen July (Goodreads group here), there are seven strictly optional challenges (five reading, two watching), and Iâm going to try to hit them all in one extremely nerdy and ambitious go!
If youâre also participating, be sure to let me know in the comments! And if you need any ideas for the challenges, read on đ
1. Read one of Jane Austen’s main six novels!
Guess who loves Jane Austen but still hasnât read Pride and Prejudice đ. Iâve watched multiple adaptations, started it twice, and even went to a book club with it unfinished (!!!) but I have yet to actually complete Austenâs most enduring and beloved work. So, this month, instead of me rereading my most adored favorite, Mansfield Park, Iâm going to start what seems like the whole worldâs favorite, and see if it becomes mine.
2. Read something by Jane Austen that is not one of her six novels!
For this challenge, Iâll be diving into Austenâs epistolary novella Lady Susan (which also happens to be the group read for the second half of July!). Like its positively sparkling film adaptation from 2016, Love and Friendship, it follows a widow whoâs looking to pull every string she can to get her and her daughter advantageously married. I love a complicated female lead, and Austenâs trademark irony, obviously, so I think Iâll have fun with this one.
3. Read a non-fiction about Jane Austen or her time!
This is an area in which Iâm totally new, so I decided to go with one of the hostsâ recommendations and read What Matters in Jane Austen, a look at Jane Austenâs works by an English professor. With chapters on everything from the use of weather in her novels to how and when she depicts the working class, this book promises to cover a lot of ground and I’m so looking forward to diving in!
4. Read a retelling of a Jane Austen book or a work of historical fiction set in Jane Austenâs time.
Being a historical fantasy, it’s an eccentric choice for this challenge, but Susanna Clarkeâs Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell is set in England during the Napoleonic Wars, so it technically counts! At just over a thousand pages, itâs maybe a bit foolish for a month of challenges, but Iâve wanted to pick it up for ages now, and a girl has to get her fantasy novel in somewhere during a classics readathon!
5. Read a book by a contemporary of Jane Austen!
For this, Iâll be reading Frances Burneyâs Camilla, a coming-of-age story set in high society that comes to us from 1796. With Burney said to hold a lot of Austenâs charms, Iâm eager to see if I agreeââthough Iâm of course a tad intimidated by the page count đ . (And by the fact that while I adore the clothes, I find books from the 18th century to be quite daunting.) I have high hopes, but if I truly canât do it, Iâll just read a play instead: Loversâ Vows, anyone?
6. Watch an adaptation of one of the books.
Whatever our consensus on that trailer is supposed to be, I WILL be watching the new version of Persuasion on Netflix this month. Besides that, Iâm also planning to dip in to a few old favorites: Ang Leeâs marvelous adaptation of Sense and Sensibility, Love and Friendship, the 2020 version of Emma that Iâm still totally obsessed with. Needless to say, July will be a very busy month for my Letterboxd.
7. Watch a modern screen adaptation/retelling of a Jane Austen book!
If you havenât watched the Lizzie Bennet Diaries on YouTube, you should absolutely go do that, but in lieu of a rewatch, Iâve decided to go for Metropolitan, which is a very loose retelling of Mansfield Park set in the New York socialite scene. Itâs a more off-the-beaten path choice, but thatâs precisely why Iâm excited about it: the class dynamics are what I love most about Mansfield Park, and this choice of setting is a great place to re-examine them.
Thank you so much for reading! What are your July reading plans? Austen or no, Iâd love to hear anything and everything from you, in the comments đ
Hello and welcome to The Pigeon! Today I humbly bring you this tag đ
The rules are as follows:
Make sure you give credit to the original creators of this tag â this tag was originally the âGet to Know the Romance Readerâ tag by Bree Hill, and was adapted for fantasy readers by the book pusher!
If you want to, pingback to the post where you first saw this tag! I first saw this from jordyn @ jordyn reads đ
Have fun!
1. What is your fantasy origin story? (The first fantasy you read)
I distinctly remember there being fairy chapter books somewhere in my history, but the book that flipped the fantasy switch for me was The Hobbit. At the time, I was in fifth grade, the first movie was just about to come out, and my parents, who both love Tolkien, had been trying for years to get me to read it. I loved the humor, I loved Middle-Earth, and it became my personality almost instantly. I have no regrets.
2. If you could be the protagonist in a fantasy novel, who would be the author, and what’s one trope you’d insist be in the story?
As much as I love danger on the page, Iâd want the comfort of knowing I have a Shannon Hale-certified happy ending to look forward to. Her worlds are comfortingly magical places that never lose their fairy-tale rosiness, where total sincerity always wins. And speaking of total sincerity always winningââI want whatever villain I have to contend with redeemed, dammit! Thereâs only going to be hope in this house if I have to live in it đ¤
3. What is a fantasy series youâve read this year that you want more people to read?
I always take it upon myself to hawk the classics, and Ursula K. Le Guinâs Earthsea Cycle is no exception. The first three books, published in the 60s and 70s, are standouts in classic fantasy, with gorgeous, sweeping worldbuilding, conflicts that donât play out in battle, and intricate prose that reads like ancient, spoken storytelling. While I donât necessarily think these books are perfect, Iâd love to see more people talking about them. They really challenge the notion that all pre-2010 fantasy marches to the same medieval-European-inspired, war-heavy drum. (Not that thatâs always a bad thingââI just want people to be aware that fantasy has variety that goes all the way back to its early decades!)
4. What is your favorite fantasy subgenre?
Seeing as Iâm a science major now (eek!), I have to say that Iâm so down for science fantasy, in all its forms. Anything that fuses sci-fiââespecially sci-fi grounded in a real scientific disciplineââwith magic has my attention. My standout example of this is the His Dark Materials trilogy, but I also love how itâs done in Darcie Little Badgerâs Elatsoe, the recent Netflix series Arcane, and Josephine Angeliniâs Trial by Fire.
5. What subgenre have you not read much from?
One thing I hope to get more into is fantasy gothic! I love a regular gothic (of the 19th-century, ghosts-in-country-houses variety) and Iâm all for the idea of bringing magic or unique worldbuilding into the mix!
6. Who is one of your auto-buy fantasy authors?
Iâve read and loved two of Erin A. Craigâs entrancing works of fantasy horror, and Iâm chomping at the bit for a chance to do so again. I love her atmosphere and suspense-building, and her romantic subplots, be they sweet, sinister, or some combination of both, are such a treat.
7. How do you typically find fantasy recommendations?
Iâm always pleased with myself when Iâm early enough to catch a publishing deal announcement for a forthcoming release, but for the most part, I:
listen to my friends when they yell at me to read things
follow book blogs!
pluck the occasional title off the shelf at the bookstore or library for a touch of spontaneity đ
8. What is an upcoming fantasy release youâre excited for?
Just this summer we have The Song That Moves the Sun by Anna Bright, Violet Made of Thorns by Gina Chen, and The Darkening by Sunya Mara! All three of these concepts have me absolutely frothing at the mouth.
9. What is one misconception about fantasy you would like to lay to rest?
That all fantasy writers can churn out a book a year or more, ad infinitum. Audiences, publishers, and aspiring writers alike are guilty of thinking this, though theyâre not all equally guilty of making it the book worldâs burnout-inducing norm (ahem, publishing!!!). In YA and middle grade especially, SFF writers are expected to publish constantly in order to stay visibleââbut literary and prestige writers, and the odd SFF bestseller, are given the room to take what books generally need: time! So many series have been rushed out at a book a year in a mistaken attempt to âkeep up,â and besides having a pronounced affect on quality, the workload can really exhaust an author with other responsibilities. If we want speculative writers to have long fruitful careers (and an industry that doesnât further marginalize them if they donât happen to come from privilege), we have to consider whether our expectations as readers and consumers are conducive to that, and this situation, umâŚisnât.
10. If someone had never read a fantasy before and asked you to recommend the first 3 books that came to mind as places to start, what would those recommendations be?
Six of Crows, Legendborn, and Daughter of Smoke and Bone, in my opinion, all make wonderful introductions to what fantasy can do. Theyâre all YA, with pretty approachable prose and an emphasis on pacing. Theyâre also very different from each other and have unique approaches to magic, with plenty of crossover appeal for people coming from other genres. (Historical, hard-hitting contemporary, and romance, respectively!)
11. Who is the most recent fantasy reading content creator you came across that youâd like to shoutout?
With twelve books and a lot of unusual picks for me to share today, this might be one of my favorite wrap-ups yet. (I read three works of nonfiction! Look at me go!) From my neck of the woods to yours, I hope you have a wonderful Juneââand I hope you get to curl up and enjoy a damn good story this month, whatever form that takes.
40. The Girl Who Fell Beneath the Sea by Axie Oh
As much folk tale as it is fantasy, this sea-swept, delicately magical coming-of-age story is a thrilling prospect for those who enjoy books of the Death-and-the-Maiden variety. It follows Mina, a girl who volunteers to be the bride of the feared Sea God, whose wrath is said to fuel the storms that plague her village. Once Mina sets foot in the Spirit Realm, however, she discovers that the truth is far more complicatedââand itâs up to her to set it right. Thereâs a great deal to love in The Girl Who Fell Beneath the Sea: thereâs an emphasis on soft moments for powerful characters, Ohâs worldbuilding is brimming with ideas, and the book clearly has something to say about the burden of power. But somethingâs missing from the character dynamics: with some oversimplified, some rushed, and some given heavy importance but almost no room to develop, the book struggles with the ties that matter most, with underwhelming consequences for its conclusion.
41. Braiding Sweetgrass by Robin Wall Kimmerer
A work of nonfiction by a scientist whoâs also a master storyteller is something to be savored: armed with both fact and meaning, these books manage to be as moving as they are indelibly true, and Braiding Sweetgrass is no exception. Blending memoir with ecology; a body of Indigenous knowledge with a practical understanding of our current crisis, Robin Wall Kimmerer hits a remarkable range with her botanical opus. Among my favorites of its many accomplishments are an exploration of lichens, an interrogation of (white; western) scienceâs tendency towards exclusion, and an achingly tender reflection or two on motherhood and what it means to let go. I donât just love this bookââI want to shove it in every face I can.
42. The Tombs of Atuan by Ursula K. Le Guin
In the depths of an ancient temple, a young girl is devoured by a nameless power. A sacrifice made every generation, she is to guard a horde of treasure and a labyrinth, decide the fates of prisoners captured there, and give herself entirely over to the dark. A sequelââthough not in the traditional senseââto Ursula K. Le Guinâs sweeping A Wizard of Earthsea, The Tombs of Atuan takes this solemn perspective character, Tenar, on a much more deliberate, much more closely-confined emotional journey, with thrilling results. While I was definitely looking for more from the supporting cast and climax, Iâm amazed by how well Atuan lands a gratifying catharsis and a rich exercise in worldbuilding in one breathless go.
43. Nimona by ND Stevenson
As part of a long tradition of tongue-in-cheek takes on heroes and villains, Nimona has familiar commentary on heroism: the âgood guysâ are exclusive, monsters are made by societyâs failings, and thereâs honor in villainy as a means of resistance. But Stevenson adds to the old tune with two lovely dynamics: 1) the one between Nimonaâs lead and the supervillain she plays sidekick to, Lord Ballister Blackheart, and 2) the one between Blackheart and his nemesis, the obnoxious, do-gooder Sir Ambrosius Goldenloin. (Not a typo.) Nimona, despite its hodgepodge worldbuilding and wonky pacing, works because it knows how to find what these relationships most need: time. (The cozy, soft platonic moments with Nimona and Ballister actually made my heart sing đĽş) Sometimes a book is about its world, or about its plot, but Nimona is about its trio, with some charming humor playing second fiddle. If you think youâll love these idiots, this book is for you.
44. Henry IV, Part 2 by William Shakespeare
The somewhat rocky second half to what is effectively the Prince Hal duology, this volume of Shakespearean history holds most of its predecessorâs charmsââonly slightly less of each of them. It has a less-interesting uprising plot, with a significant and wildly entertaining figurehead having bit it at the end of Part I. It has the same comic relief characters, only with an overhanging dread dampening most of their associated comic relief. While there are some great moments between the title king and his prodigal son, this play just isnât the multifaceted firecracker Part I is. At its best, it manages to be pretty gripping. At itâs worst, though, itâs practically tedious. (Looking at you, Falstaff and Shallowââespecially Shallow.)
45. An Ordinary Age by Rainesford Stauffer
Deep down, if you are (or recently were) what this collection of essays calls an âemerging adult,â you know that we expect too much of you. Youâre supposed to land a job that gives you purpose and a good paycheck, in a fashionable city far from home, with the perfect group of friends, the perfect collection of hobbies, and the most enviable Instagram feed. Maybe the most comforting thing An Ordinary Age can offer is the sound assurance that none of this is actually true, but itâs also careful to address both why weâve come to feel that these are our expectations, and what we can do about it. Itâs such a validating read for someone who feel the walls closing inââI particularly appreciated Staufferâs commentary about perfectionism in young people as a response to a tightening gyre of a job market. As I somewhat tersely put it in a Goodreads review earlier this month, every 16-19 year old needs to read this book and then calm the hell down đ
46. The Farthest Shore by Ursula K. Le Guin
The third volume in Le Guinâs classic fantasy series The Earthsea Cycle (following A Wizard of Earthsea and The Tombs of Atuan), this book combines the scope of book one and the darkness of book two for a slow, searching adventure that hits an entirely new stride. We follow a third new lead, the ambitious Prince Arren, as he and a certain Archmage hunt down the source of a far-reaching magical decay. Of all three original Earthsea books, this one probably has the most salient commentary: tackling the warped desire for power and immortality, Le Guin makes a compassionate case for resisting both that has broad applicability, in her time of writing and ours. But The Farthest Shore still stuffers from whatâs becoming a curse for the Earthsea books: a resolution that comes way too easilyââthis one even some excellent dragons canât save.
47. Dreams Bigger Than Heartbreak by Charlie Jane Anders
If youâre in search of a joyously weird space opera to tide you over until the next series of Doctor Who, look no further than Charlie Jane Andersâ Unstoppable series, where coders become queens and artists become conduits for the ruins of an ancient galactic empire. The trilogyâs book two, Dreams Bigger Than Heartbreak, follows two perspective characters from book one, Victories Greater Than Death, and, in my opinion, beats the latter on almost all of its strengths. The ensemble cast finally comes into its own, and the sparkling concepts in Andersâ worldbuilding finally get to shine. Plus, two incredibly resonant areas of commentaryââcreativity after trauma and the oversaturation of information in the digital ageââgive the book some excellent themes to chew on. Action scenes remain a little fuzzy (and Anders still introduces way too many new characters for her own good!), but this second book is well worth crossing the shaky ground of the first.
48. Henry V by William Shakespeare
Even with another five still ahead of me in chronological order, Iâm going to have to call it now: this will probably be my least favorite of Shakespeareâs history plays. It traces Henry Vâs part in the Hundred Yearsâ War, dramatizing his invasion of France from Harfleur to the Battle of Agincourt, and ending with the ensuing peace treaty. If all of this sounds like dull military history, itâs because it, kind of, umâŚis? Henry V, as a play, is woefully poor in the court intrigue that makes the other histories so much fun, and, because its focus is almost solely on war, it presents the most simplistic interpretation of its title character in what Iâve read of the canon. To sum it up: Henry is violent, valiant, and seldom criticized, and even Shakespeareâs wordâ and scenecraft canât save his play.
49. Today Tonight Tomorrow by Rachel Lynn Solomon
Rowan Roth has been locked in an academic standoff with the pretentious, detestably clever Neil McNair for the better part of her academic career. When her last chance to beat him arrives in the form of a senior class scavenger hunt, sheâs determined to take him downââbut Today Tonight Tomorrow is a romcom, and Rachel Lynn Solomonâs (deliciously witty, gloriously rose-tinted) universe has other plans. Set over one whirlwind of a night, the book sometimes struggles to reach the full depths of its charactersâ feelings, but it also happens to read like magic. Solomonâs voicy prose, charming use of setting, and singular talent for choosing quirks makes Today Tonight Tomorrow read like the most wondrous of teen comedy films in book form.
50. Wonderbook by Jeff VanderMeer
This year, my annual craving for a writing craft book led me to Wonderbook, a manual for speculative fiction in particular that offers an encyclopedic look at the whole process, from tapping into your imagination before you begin, to revising and workshopping your finished story. Of the writing books Iâve read, this one is probably the friendliest to experimental forms: VanderMeer tailors his advice to fit the ultra-weird, in narrative structure, setting, and prose alike. The book also draws on a breadth of references: the expertise of other writers as guest essayists, the examples of various gems of genre fiction, a not-insignificant amount of homework in the form of other craft books (!). Some of it is so out-there that it becomes unwieldy as advice, but the book as a whole is impressively thorough and delightfully ambitious. I canât wait to give it another read (and actually do the exercises this time!).
51. An Ideal Husband by Oscar Wilde
First performed in 1895, this whip-smart comedy of manners follows a politician whose past comes to haunt his since-upstanding public recordââand his marriage. The playâs dialogue and characters are perfectly witty and charming, in the way that Wilde on stage is always witty and charming, but An Ideal Husband, like its spiritual sister A Woman of No Importance, also has something vital to say about how we fail one another. In this case, Wilde takes remarkably compassionate aim at the way we put impossible expectations on our loved ones, and what a disservice in doing so we do to ourselves. The play is no The Importance of Being Earnest where humor is concerned, but its vibrant main cast very nearly makes up for it.
Thank you so much for reading! How was your May in books? I’d love to hear anything and everything about what you read in the comments below đ
Hello and welcome to the blog! Thanks for sticking around through my breakââschool, as it tends to do, ramped way up just as I was finishing it! But, with my two-year associates degree (in science, of all things) behind me, I have a number of delightful reads from last month to share with you. Letâs dive in!
31. The Amber Spyglass by Philip Pullman
This last volume of Philip Pullmanâs moving, expansive, magically scientific (and scientifically magical) His Dark Materials trilogy might be the best of all three books. I was wary about Pullman wandering into his universeâs pantheon in book two, but I ought not have beenââThe Amber Spyglass goes mind-bogglingly big in scale with its conflict and theme, but it handles it well, keeping the multiverse stuff to the deeply personal conflicts between characters His Dark Materials does best. In the least spoilery terms: Spyglass takes us into an intricate new universe whose mysteries can be untangled only through science, across a warped angelic empire, and into the afterlife and back, and every step of the journey feels utterly purposeful. I canât wait to take it again when I watch the show. (Also, for those of you whoâve read it: Mary’s subplot is good. Fight me!)
32. Cat on a Hot Tin Roof by Tennessee Williams
Set on a Mississippi estate, 1955âs Cat on a Hot Tin Roof follows the disillusioned children (and children-in-law) of a dying cotton magnate as they vie for the inheritance. I actually read this play a few years ago for a book club and hated it, but now, I can see some of its merits, even if they donât totally illuminate it in a positive light. I can appreciate, for example, how Tennessee Williams tackles mortality and materialism and internalized homophobiaâŚwhile also holding my reservations about how little he does to undermine the racism he depicts on the page. Iâm glad I re-read it, especially in an academic setting (with my English class!), but as for enjoying it? Thatâs a different story.
33. Control by Lydia Kang
Controlâs world is a lovely 2013 YA sci-fi number with all the bells and whistles: a semi-gritty futuristic setting where high-tech meets a corporate criminal underbelly, plenty of lab work, and a superpowered found family. If you live for that stuff, Control will be a familiar treat, but it has a secret boon for all those who seek heavy science in their sci-fi: Kang, a practicing physician, uses the gory details to her advantage. (Control, as a title, refers actually to the feature of experimental design đĽ°.) In the plot department, though, Control struggles. The climax and conclusion are messy and keep the book from landing on its feetââditto for the faceless antagonists and various interchangeable henchmen who appear only for the big fight at the end. Kang certainly does her best to tap into her story’s thrills, but the sleek face of evil in Control only has so much menace.
34. Henry IV, Part 1 by William Shakespeare
Set after the overthrow of King Richard II, this play kicks off a duology ostensibly about his replacement, Henry IVâŚbut actually about the young neâer-do-well prince, Hal. Where some of Shakespeareâs other history plays are more consistently somber, Henry IV, Part 1 is a crowd-pleasing balancing act between the heavy drama of (yet another!) uprising and the raucous comedy of Prince Halâs drunken exploits. Your mileage with the comedy may very, but if it happens to work for you, itâs a warm anchor to a delicious overplot of courtly intrigue. If, like I did on my first go-round, you find yourself getting impatient with the playâs long-winded comic relief character, Falstaff, get your hands on a taped (or real-life!) production: this humor, especially, is best absorbed in performance.
35. The Dream Thieves by Maggie Stiefvater
Following the events of Maggie Stiefvaterâs paranormal fantasy, The Raven Boys, Gansey, a young scholar obsessed, is still on the hunt for the legendary Welsh king Glendower. Blue Sargent is still sitting on a prophecy that bodes a kiss that will kill her true love. And Ronan Lynch has just started using a deadly magic to pull things out of his dreams. In line with the seriesâ first installment, Stiefvater again sets up a careful use of foils for a potent character studyââthis time of Ronanââbut owing to a fumbling of tone with an important supporting character, this one doesnât cut nearly as deep as its predecessor. But among The Dream Thievesâ familiar charms are haunting visuals, witty and self-aware prose, and a mythic focus, all of which manage to give this volume a lot of what made The Raven Boys so special to begin with.
36. Exo by Fonda Lee
Fonda Leeâs YA take on extraterrestrial occupation is as thoughtful as it is bracing. Exo is set a century after Earth becomes a colony of the hyper-hierarchical zhree, and it follows a young loyalist security officer, Donovan, as he discovers his buried ties to the human rebellion. Leeâs stark, cinematic prose style makes Exo read like a high-caliber summer blockbuster, but this book has its thrilling cake and eats it, too. Lee looks at everything from the class disparity under occupation to the human cost of violent resistance, and Exo emerges from the scrutiny with more questions than answers, rich in nuance and all the better for it. The ensemble, however, is too numerous for Exoâs available page time, and much of it languishes in character soup. Two major family dynamics for Donovan carry a lot of weight, but both feel shirked by a few important beats.
37. Small Favors by Erin A. Craig
Small Favors is fantasy-horror scribe Erin A. Craigâs sophomore work, following the sea-drenched, wind-swept gothic vibes of House of Salt and Sorrows (reviewed here) with a rustic, something-in-the-woods approach to her signature chills. With more darkness coming from our main charactersâ neighbors than from any sinister magic, and a much less romantic frontier setting, Small Favors is a very different book, but I found myself engrossed in it even more. Craig uses her setting to make extremely salient commentary on how hardship makes people turn on one another, and the darker undertones to her choice of love story serve to deepen it and make it more memorable. The monster reveal, too, is always a delicate dance in a work of horror, but whatever terror her concept loses in coming into the light is more than made up for in resonance.
38. How to Stop Time by Matt Haig
First thingâs first: Matt Haigâs cheesy as hell. But here, it works to his advantage. How to Stop Time stars the functionally immortal Tom Hazard, whoâs found himself detached from humanity after centuries of loss and secrecyâŚuntil he meets the person who will prove to be the second love of his life. Weaving through history, the book probably has its most fun in flashbacks: Elizabethan England, Jazz-Age Paris, Gilded-Age New York. Where Haig runs into trouble is when he tries to bring a secret society and its accompanying life-and-death stakes to a book heâs committed to steering away from darker territory: every time a gun is pulled in How to Stop Time, itâs a moment of overpowering whiplash. Still, the bookâs sincerity lands what it most needs to sayââthat we canât shy away from pain, that thereâs always more to learn and live forââand does so beautifully.
39. A Wizard of Earthsea by Ursula K. Le Guin
Published in 1968, A Wizard of Earthsea opens Ursula K. Le Guinâs Earthsea Cycle, tracing the many voyages of a young sorcerer as he grows into his power. Le Guinâs worldbuilding, first of all, is top-tier: Earthsea comes alive in a totally different way every time we dock at one of its distinctive islands. Filled with tradition, illuminated by a magic system that strikes the perfect balance between order and mystery, and making liberal use of the natural world and its power, this bookâs settings are among fantasyâs best. But the execution in this first book, as much as I can appreciate its ideas, is mixed. Its episodic structure makes it difficult for the story to achieve unity, with the lead, Gedâs, character arc feeling more like a set of ideas than a manifest progression of personal change. The prose, though, makes it feel like a gift anyway.
Thank you so much for reading! How was your April in books? Iâd love to hear about it in the comments below đ
Hello and Happy TTT! Now, my blog theme being what it is, I couldnât not pick birds for this particular freebie, and I hope you find many marvelous tales from among this flock to enjoy. (And if you did birds too, we have to be friends now. No exceptions.)
1. A Thousand Steps Into Night by Traci Chee
Starting us off is this delightful Japanese-influenced fantasy from Traci Chee, complete with wildly inventive worldbuilding, actual footnotes, and absolute shenanigans. The bird in question on this cover is the helpful but slightly mischievous magpie spirit Geiki, who accompanies the main character, Miuko, on a quest to undo her demonic curse. This book is fun all around, but Geiki and his antics often steal the show. (Reviewed here.)
2. The Raven Boys by Maggie Stiefvater
As weâll soon discover, YA fantasy is very fond of corvids. The Raven Boys is the first of a contemporary fantasy quartet starring the non-psychic daughter of a very psychic family, and a prep school boyâs relentless search for a legendary dead king. The Raven Boysâ title is actually referring to the aforementioned prep schoolâs uniform crest, but fear not! Iâm two books in and I can guarantee at least one actual raven so far. (Her name is Chainsaw and I would die for her.) (Reviewed here.)
3. Muse of Nightmares by Laini Taylor
Following Strange the Dreamer in a stunning fantasy duology about dream magic, an ancient library, and a fabled lost city, Muse of Nightmares is some of the most ambitious fantasy Iâve ever read. Having finished it months ago, the specific relevance of the hawk on the cover escapes me, but, barring my lapse of memory, I cannot recommend these books to fantasy fans enough. If you have a taste for stunning visuals, rich worldbuilding informed by an imaginative past, or gossamer-fine prose, the Strange the Dreamer duology is likely to prove two new favorites.
4. The Astonishing Color of After by Emily X. R. Pan
In Emily X. R. Panâs dreamlike debut novel, Leigh, a young artist who just lost her mother to suicide, awakens to an impossible truth: her mom has transformed into a bird. In the pages of this fabulist novel, we see contemporary life with a touch of the paranormal, as red crane feathers and ghosts punctuate a steady, heartfelt portrait of grief, with whatâs ârealâ and not ultimately left up to the reader. The marvelous details, along with a gorgeous emphasis on visual art, make this an excellent pick for fantasy and contemporary fans alike.
5. The Merciful Crow by Margaret Owen
This work of YA fantasy takes the bird symbolism up a notch: in the land of Sabor, the social castes bear avian names and their associated magics. The royalty are called phoenixes, the gentry swans and other classically ânobleâ birds, and crows, a persecuted caste of mercy-killers tasked with containing a perpetual plague, are at the very bottom. As you might expect, The Merciful Crow and its sequel, The Faithless Hawk, have an absolute field day with motifs, but theyâre also distinctively thoughtful deconstructions of class hierarchies, and, every now and then, laugh-out-loud funny, too.
6. Spinning Starlight by R. C. Lewis
Speaking of swans, this sci-fi retelling of the fairy tale “The Wild Swans” bears a swan of circuitry on its cover in homage to its source material. Itâs set in a futuristic solar system where portal travel puts all the planets at everyoneâs fingertipsâŚand conceals a deadly secret. Our lead, the tech heiress (and tech-challenged) Liddi Jantzen, has to rescue her brothers from certain death in the void between these very portals, unravel a conspiracy in her family company, and, in keeping with the original tale, canât use her voice to do either. The book has some misses, but if you love a sci-fi fairy tale in step with The Lunar Chronicles, this one is worth a sojourn into the backlist. (Reviewed here.)
7. The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins
Without a spot for the Mockingjay, this list would be woefully incomplete. Set in a post-disaster North America by the name of Panem, The Hunger Games follows a working-class girl who finds herself in a tournament held by the government every year, in which kids are forced to fight each other to death until only one victor remains. The Mockingjay, a relic of genetically-engineered warfare, becomes a heavy symbol of resistance later in the series, and, due at least in part to the covers, it absolutely plastered pop culture when this seriesâ popularity was in its heyday.
8. Six of Crows by Leigh Bardugo
A magical heist full of clever schemes, marvelously-executed twists, and a cast of rogues you canât help but adore, Six of Crows has also made its cover bird very popular. Bardugo uses the crow as a symbol to moving effectââdrawing out the contradictions in her lovably ruthless characters as holders of deep grudges and even deeper loyalties. And, not to join the chorus or anythingââbut youâre going to love this book and you simply have to read it.
9. Hilda and the Bird Parade by Luke Pearson
The Hilda series of graphic novels was recently adapted into a lovely Netflix series, but the books are more than set for a charm of their own. This third volume follows Hilda in an excursion through the city of Trolberg, set against an annual night parade in tribute to a legendary raven. Like the other volumes, itâs full of whimsy and catnip to anyone who loves folktale in their fantasy.
10. The Hobbit by J. R. R. Tolkien
The Hobbit has been published in plenty of editions whose covers have not even a whisper of a bird, but my copy has eagles in the sky of its panorama, so Iâm counting it. Eagles play a brief surprise-rescue role in one of the early chapters and are only tangentially related to the chase-out-the-dragon main plot, but Iâm always happy to see a bird of prey gracing the pages of a fantasy adventure, and I canât wait to see where Iâll meet them next.
Thank you so much for reading! As always, Iâd love to hear any and all of your thoughts in the commentsââany I missed?
Hello and welcome to the blog! If youâve been around here awhile, youâll know that I love the works of William Shakespeare: watching them, reading them, and occasionally even performing in them. But theyâre not always the most accessible for new readers. Language has changed a lot since they were written, much of their context no longer exists, and even with some schooling behind you, these plays can be demanding reading.
So, today, whether youâre picking up Henry IV because you miss your English class, using Macbeth to fill the If We Were Villains-sized hole in your heart, or trying your hand at Much Ado About Nothing because youâve heard Beatrice and Benedick are the original idiots-to-lovers (itâs true; theyâre legends), I hope I can help you find some joy in my favorite plays of all time. My amateur advice is as follows:
1. Get Some Background
If you were studying your play of choice in a literature class, your professor would give you the low-down: hereâs the basic premise, hereâs who the characters are, here are some lines from the play, here are a few important scenes. So do the same for yourself! Read the introduction included in your edition if itâs there, watch videos about the play, or otherwise know your characters and your places apart so that Act I, Scene 1 doesnât throw you into the deep end. There is also no shame in taking notes, which I am known to do! Whatever helps you get whatâs happening and when is worth a little extra time.
If you’re looking for some resources, my favorites include:
When it comes to enjoyment, I find Shakespeare is the reverse of most books: always go straight for the movie. (Or, if youâre lucky and have some actual stage productions nearby: go see them, go see them, go see them, go see them!) There are so often depths to these plays that only directors and actors can really convey. For the darker tragedy and history plays, these are the speeches, the fights, the death scenes. For the comedies (my favorites!), this is the physicality and comedic timing that will have you doubling over in your seat if you see them live. Also, if you watch the plays first, you get some faces and voices to put to the character names, which will help you out if you like to visualize scenes while youâre reading. All the plays have at least one version thatâs been taped and put on YouTube, but you can also try:
Curling up with a paperback is a lovely way to spend an evening, but I find Shakespeare to reward a reading experience thatâs a little more boisterous: thereâs nothing like staging a one-man production of King John in your kitchen. If you can get up on your feet and pretend youâre playing one of the characters on stage, I highly recommend it! If youâre only comfortable with whispering the lines to yourself, thatâs equally as good. Plays, whether theyâre Shakespeare, Hansberry, Gunderson, or Wilde, are meant to be staged, and because of that leave a great deal of interpretation up to you as you read them. This can be as limiting as it is liberating. The difference between the two often lies in how much like an actor youâre willing to thinkââsolo production in your kitchen or no.
4. One Line At A Time
I got this trick from Thinking Shakespeare by Barry Edelstein, a book about how to confront the Bard as an actor. All you need is a bookmark or index card, and whatever text youâre reading. Whatever line youâre on, cover up everything immediately below it, and only move the paper down once youâve read and more-or-less understood it. Rinse and repeat many hundred times.
By going one line at a time, you force yourself to concentrate on the piece of the task in front of you, instead of seeing the block of text still ahead. Itâs a great way to avoid getting overwhelmed, but it also helps you use the line breaks as natural stopping points in a characterâs thought process. Take this bit from a soliloquy in Richard II, where the now-deposed king is reflecting on his rule from prison:
Thus play I in one person many people,
[Line break; he thinks about it for a second, spurring on the next line.]
And none contented […]
Act V, Scene 5
Instead of hitting you all at once, these thoughts build upon each other in manageable pieces, and theyâre much easier to enjoy one line at a time.
5. You Know More Than You Think
If you like booksââscratch that, if you like stories, periodââyou know Shakespeare. A litany of his plots have been repurposed in books and movies you know like the back of your hand, and youâve heard the writing quoted hundreds of times, maybe without even registering some of them. Even if youâve never read or watched one of the plays, their subject matter (life, power, friendship, responsibility, love, mortality!) can speak to you. As unapproachable as the Bard may seem, his plays, along with everything in the storytelling tradition, no matter how distant, belong to all of us. If you want to read the plays, you are absolutely âsmartâ enough to read the plays.
Never, ever let anyone tell you theyâre beyond you.
The Pigeon 
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