I remember reading some crazy awesome reviews about The Yellow Wall-Paper a few years ago, talking about its beautiful writing, important message, and general amazingness. HAHA OK, no.
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I didn’t start the Wolf by Wolf duology expecting the EMOTIONAL MURDER that was about to occur. I need a hug but I also need about 382 days to be alone and think sad thoughts.
My heart is an empty void.
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BECAUSE IT WAS. Just with a guy instead with a girl. And with an overload of snark. STEP IT UP, SAGE, YOU’RE A ROLE MODEL. HAahahAHAhahh or not, because the snark was hilarious and I really don’t care about anything else. Shallow, I am.
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HA, look at me, I’m still confused. DOES BANGING MY HEAD AGAINST THE MONITOR HELP??? I DON’T KNOW???
The Traitor’s Game wasn’t YA. I’m saying it like a mantra but I’m not bitter. Not! (Totally unimportant sidenote that doesn’t make me want to hide at all: I just checked Barnes and Noble and they have TTG under teen books and I’m crying and laughing and running away but I CONTEST.)
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“Oh hey, all your favorite characters aren’t going to be in this one, mate. We’re just going to throw them out the window and WATCH THEM FALL AND LAUGH AND TAKE PICTURES while we shove some new fellows in your way. Pretend to like them, ok?”
Mhm, yeah, that’s every bookworms’ favorite situation. AND THAT’S WHAT MY BRAIN WAS SCREAMING AT ME. SCREAMING!! LIKE THIS!! WHICH IS RUDE!! INVASIVE!! TERRIFYING!! Thank the books above that everything my brain tells me is a lie. Yes, that’s it. I’ve disintegrated into a puddle of shame. RIP ME.
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Yes, yes. Shame. Because my tbr is so excessively long that I need to plan out my whole summer reading life™ to bring it back to normal human level. Someone please help me.
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What even did Marissa Meyer do to me this time???
I want to reread Heartless, but I also know better than that. Villain origin stories are sad enough already…I don’t need to read one twice knowing FULL WELL what cruelty is coming my way. ASDFJKLASJK HELP ME.
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Throne of Glass was the second book I read this past August, and I almost had as much fun reading it as I would swimming and drowning in a sea of cake.
I’m aware that this series half lives in perennial shade and there’s very much a love-it-or-hate-it kind of thing running around it, so I’m sorry if it gave you murderous tendencies and you really just want me to choke it till it suffocates and dies because I only hate on it for like, a small majority of the review.*
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I’M A MENTOR NOW! Muahahaha please watch out and take your shoes off before you step inside.
I’m going to interview myself now.
Don’t mind me.
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I’ll be forcing a gift guide and some major deals down your throats today, so if you’re a victim of December’s sneakiness, looking for a last-minute gift idea for a tricksy friend, want to find a little something to treat yourself with, or simply want to laugh at me (I can’t blame you, I’m hilarious), this post is for you.
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I’ve been all kinds of evil and have kept An Ember in the Ashes’ goodness to myself these past 82013 months, but it’s finally time to share it with you and I’m not mad. I’M NOT MAD!
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Now for the second part of my summer book haul. It’s missing some pictures, but you’re a reader. You should have enough imagination to make up for it, right? But the saddest thing isn’t the lack of pictures, the fact that I’m listening to the Greatest Showman soundtrack again, or crying over A Million Dreams. The saddest thing is that I have like three more of these haul posts to go. If something has to change, I’m ignoring it.
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Everything, Everything was my first contemporary. And it promised so much.
But I don’t even know what happened.
The first half was cute and light and adorable and then the second half hopped on a train, shot off at 8596 mph, and left me in the dust wondering where in the world my feelings were. (I’m 100% cool with missing the train, though, because it ended up heading in a horrible direction and I’m still bitter about it yes ma’am.)
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It’s September. It’s SeptemberSeptemberSeptemberSeptemberSeptemberSeptemberSeptemberSEPTEMBER.
Why am I chanting this you ask? Well:
1) I’m crazy.
2) I’M TRYING TO CONVINCE MYSELF IT’S NOT CHRISTMAS. BECAUSE WITH ALL THESE NEW RELEASES IT SURE FEELS LIKE IT.
Wait what? June?!? JUNE?!?
Wasn’t that like…months ago? Shouldn’t we have had this post before, you whisper?
Well. I ran away from blogging for a month or two and I missed my June wrap-up and I’m should be sent to the book blogger guillotine now. NOW! I missed July and I might have missed June and I don’t even know what’s what anymore. IT’S ALL PAIN.
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Can a series kill you??? SOMEONE INVESTIGATE, because I’m filled with more nerd rage than ever and it’s scaring me. Run while you still can.*
I’m going to try to not scream too much at Leigh Bardugo (this is the age of miracles and I can scream at my favorite author’s face), but who knows. I feel like I tripped on a knife.
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1. I bought/received sixteen books this past May + June (though I returned two to pick up different editions this month, so do they count???? Yes???) AND I STILL HAVEN’T SHARED THEM IN A HAUL POST YET. There’s a problem here.
2. I NEED TO CATCH UP.
3. I’ve been promising a post like this since May. MAY. I need to deliver now.
4. I’m a good girl, so I will.
5. There’s not going to be a smooth transition so just roll with me
