3 Stars
This one felt like a quiet walk through the woods with someone who is very wise… and just not speaking my language. The ideas of reciprocity, gift economies, and abundance in nature are thoughtful and clearly heartfelt, but I never quite clicked with them the way I expected to.
Kimmerer’s writing is gentle and reflective, almost meditative, and I can see why this book resonates deeply with many readers. For me, though, the concepts stayed a bit abstract, and I found myself appreciating the intention more than the execution. I wanted something that grounded those ideas more firmly or challenged me in a way that felt personal.
Not a bad read by any means, just one that passed through my hands without really taking root.
3 Stars
Meltzer is a strong storyteller, and his writing is smooth and accessible, but the book leaned far more into biography and historical context than into the conspiracy promised by the title.
If you’re already familiar with JFK era history or past assassination theories, there isn’t much here that feels surprising or revelatory. I kept waiting for a deeper excavation of the plot itself, but instead got a broader, safer narrative that retraced familiar ground.
Well written and informative, just not the deep dive conspiracy exploration I was hoping for. Interesting, but not especially new.
This book definitely did its job intellectually. It challenged my assumptions, poked at my comfort zone, and made me pause more than once to reconsider how I think about policy, progress, and why big ideas stall out. There’s a lot here to chew on, and the arguments are laid out clearly and confidently.
That said, it never quite grabbed me. I appreciated the thinking, but I didn’t feel that spark, the kind that makes an idea linger in your bones or sends a chill of recognition down your spine. It felt more like a very smart conversation than a revelatory one.
Solid, thought provoking, and well argued, just not a book that left me buzzing when I turned the last page.
3 Stars
This one fits neatly into the category of dependable Star Wars storytelling. Familiar characters, clear stakes, and just enough Force fueled tension to keep the pages turning. It does exactly what a Star Wars novel should do, and it does it competently.
That said, it never really ignites. The plot moves along smoothly, but without many moments that linger or feel especially bold. I enjoyed the ride, I just didn’t come away thinking about it long after the credits rolled.
A solid entry for fans of the universe, enjoyable and serviceable, but not one of the standouts from a galaxy far, far away.
5 Stars
This book wrecked me in the quiet, honest way only the right story can. I cried more times than I can count. As someone recently acquainted with grief and loss, this felt less like reading and more like sitting with feelings I hadn’t found words for yet.
Mai Nguyen doesn’t soften the edges of grief. The emotions are raw, messy, and painfully human, and the characters move through their pain in ways that feel achingly real. There’s no rush to healing, no tidy bow. Just the slow, uneven journey of learning how to exist after everything has changed.
What stayed with me most was how seen I felt. The story doesn’t ask you to be brave or positive. It lets you be broken, exhausted, and unsure. And somehow, within all that heaviness, there’s tenderness and connection that makes the tears feel earned.
This is a beautiful, devastating read. If you’re grieving, or if you’ve ever loved someone who is, this book understands you. I’ll be carrying it with me for a long time.
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