The Shrew Detective: The Case of the Pilfered Pearls (Shrew Detective #1): Volume 1 By Margi Preus

The Shrew Detective: The Case of the Pilfered Pearls (Shrew Detective #1): Volume 1 By Margi Preus, 128 pages

A few times a year I like to read some middle-grade fiction. The variety in the market is truly astounding, and nowadays they are usually written to be enjoyed by adult caretakers as well as children. And frankly, I just. freakin. love. shrews.

Minera is the titular shrew detective, visiting her cousin in a large human house. Animals, pets and pests alike, are all suspects when the human family's pearls are....pilfered. The pretty standard detective story is bolstered by shrew facts and opportunities to learn big, fun words.

This was really cute! If you know a kid that likes an animal cast of characters, maybe isn't ready for how violent the Redwall books can be, and loves showing off thier new vocab, check this one out. My only complaint is that it was a bit racist against squirrels.

It Looks Like You in the Dark

It Looks Like You in the Dark by Mathilda Zeller, 288 pages

Chukchi is a tiny and remote Inupiat village in Alaska, and while there are some folks who leave, most of them either stay or return. The only time white men visit is when they're convinced that the nearby mine is full of rich minerals, whether it's gold, lead, or some of the rare earth materials that make up computer processors. And usually, when the greedy white men arrive, death soon follows, usually in the form of the legendary and always hungry kushtuka, a creature that disguises itself as someone you love to lure you to your death. That's certainly what happens in this book, in which a new herd of wealthy white men come into town and slowly win over everyone with their false charm and promises of better jobs at the mine. Everyone, that is, except Tapeesa, who is convinced they're up to no good. When Tapeesa's sister goes missing, she will do anything to get her back, even if it means seeking help from these outsiders, even though she's convinced they have something to do with the disappearance.

This debut novel pulls together so many types of horror -- supernatural and indigenous folklore, capitalism and the terror of being a young woman -- and they're woven together incredibly well, keeping the reader guessing as to what or who the villain actually is. And the remote location only adds to the creeping terror. An excellent book, and I can't wait to see what Zeller comes up with next.

Taxi Dancer

Taxi Dancer by Marivi Soliven, 240 pages

During the Great Depression, Filipino immigrants often found themselves working hard at low-paying service jobs in cities, or traveling up and down the west coast as farm workers. But on the weekends, many of the men found themselves spending all of their hard-earned money on dime dances with white women at taxi dance halls. This story tells of Filipino farmworker Eli who falls in love with dancer Lucinda and plans to run away with her to Washington, where it was legal for them to marry. But before Eli and Lucinda can escape San Diego, the owner of the dance hall where Lucinda works is gunned down and Eli is blamed for the crime.

While we often hear about the migrant workers during the Depression, this was the first time I'd read about the taxi dance halls, and the way in which the strict segregation of the era was breached in these nightclubs. I loved getting a peek into that world, and especially having it presented in such an adventurous way. There were a few coincidences that were a bit too convenient, but I think this is a fantastic look at an element of American history we don't often see in historical fiction.

A Vow Made Twice

A Vow Made Twice by Emma Denny, 432 pages

After his father's death, Ash has officially inherited the title of earl and must marry, despite the fact that he had already made a commitment vow to a partner, who died in battle several years earlier. When he meets young widow Agnes, the pair agrees to a marriage of convenience — Ash will keep the title and lands from one day going to his horrible uncle, while Agnes saves herself from being forced into marriage to an equally horrible family friend — and neither expects anything other than friendship out of the union. When a bandit sets upon them in their travels, however, Ash's past comes back to haunt him, and forces them to re-evaluate everything, including their growing affection for one another.

Denny plays with some familiar historical romance tropes here (marriage of convenience/fake dating, mistaken identity, etc), but with some fresh twists. Ash's past love is a man, Agnes is nonbinary (though she doesn't have the language to properly label herself), and the *spoiler* unexpected reappearance of Ash's long-thought-dead lover *end spoiler* creates a truly tricky romantic situation. Yet Denny handles all of it delicately and deftly. While this is the third book in the series and there are plenty of references to the first two, A Vow Made Twice stands alone well, and only made me want to pick up the first two. It's great to see the representation of this romantic configuration, especially in a historical setting.

Easy Crafts for the Insane: A Mostly Funny Memoir of Mental Illness and Making Things by Kelly Williams Brown

Easy Crafts for the Insane: A Mostly Funny Memoir of Mental Illness and Making Things by Kelly Williams Brown, 288 pages.

The author experiences a truly astounding amount of misfortune in a short amount of time, including hospitalization for mental health, and details how humor and crafting helped her cope.

I feel like there are a lot of books of this type, attempting to "put the fun back in dysfunctional", but I found this to be way better than the myriad of such memoirs circulating. The author's style is easy, and she does take responsibility and learn and grow from these difficulties. This book was not just an exhausting endless tragedy with no point (a la Tara Westover) nor was it more cringy than necessary ( lookin' at you, Jenny Lawson). I appreciated that she limited her stories to those she had a reason to tell, and that for the audiobook she omitted most of the craft instrucitons. It really did have some solid crafting advice, too!

The Half-God of Rainfall

 

The Half-God of Rainfall by Inua Ellams, 96 pages.

When Demi cries, the storms come; when he shoots a basketball, he does not miss. Demi's father is Zeus, and his mother an unwilling mortal Nigerian woman. Demi's great passion is basketball, and when the worshipful admiration of his fans begins to draw the ire of the gods, he and his mother Modupe flee to America. But even there they can't escape the pettiness of the gods, and so must choose to stand against them.

Ellams is a poet, and although this novella is written in prose, you can still definitely tell that is his background. I found the prose powerful, and thought this short book used every page very efficiently. 

The Death of Jane Lawrence

 

The Death of Jane Lawrence by Caitlin Starling, 362 pages.

Jane marries Dr. Augustine Lawrence out of convenience, and if he has an odd condition or two that's no more than she had when she proposed the strange arrangement. Augustine says he must spend every night at his family's crumbling estate, and she must never sleep there. This arrangement is almost immediately broken, and Jane is quickly pulled into the strange and terrifying mysteries of Lindridge Hall, where she learns that her husband is not what he seems, and neither is the world.

This was a delightfully unsettling gothic novel. The synopsis listed Crimson Peak as one of its big inspirations, and there is a lot of that here, especially in atmosphere. However, Starling also engages very consciously with the genre, and plays on expectations about classic gothic novels to subvert them. I was very impressed by this book, even if the end lost me a little. I would still recommend it wholeheartedly, especially for fall. 

Throw Away the Key

Throw Away the Key by Jason M. Hough, 320 pages

Lars Bergman was once part of the CIA's "surreptitious entry team," the group assigned to sneak in and steal, plant, or replace documents or other things during spy operations. But now, he's semi-retired, putting his skills to use as the main locksmith at CIA's headquarters. When a woman near the top of the CIA hierarchy dies and leaves hints that only Lars would understand in her office safe, he begins to suspect that her death is tied to a failed operation from decades earlier.

This is simultaneously a throwback to old-school Cold War spy thrillers and a nesting doll of heists. I loved the twists and turns, as well as the details about locks and how to pick them. Yeah, there are a lot of spy tropes here, but they're done so well. A wonderful escapist novel that you can just sink into. I recommend it for fans of Alma Katsu's CIA thrillers.

These Walls Remember

These Walls Remember by Del Sandeen, 352 pages

When sisters Mickie and Delilah inherited their great aunt's house, they also received their relative's increasingly unhinged artwork from the asylum where she spent her final days. Among the drawings, a note: DO NOT GO INTO THE ATTIC. Yet as Mickie prepares to flip the house for quick sale, Delilah is drawn toward the locked attic door and soon finds herself ascending the stairs. Meanwhile, Mickie starts hearing about mysterious disappearances linked to the house, going back to it's origins in the late 1800s. Before long, there is something pulling at both sisters, begging them to stay at the house.

I'll be honest — I read this book about a month ago and completely forgot about it until I saw it on my list of books to blog about. It wasn't until I looked up the plot summary that bits started to come back to me. So while it was a creepy read while I was reading it, it obviously has no staying power, at least not for me. Which is a shame, because it did offer up a nice Southern gothic haunted house vibe with plenty of generational trauma thrown in. The walls may remember, but I certainly don't.

A Short Walk Through a Wide World

 

A Short Walk Through a Wide World by Douglas Westerbeke, 400 pages.

As a child in Paris, Aubry Tourvel was struck with a strange illness. If she stays to long in one place she starts to bleed, then die. The only thing that holds her illness at bay is travel, so she begins to walk. Over the decades her wanderings take her from the greatest cities to the most remote locations. The only thing that is constant is that she can't stay, and she can't come back anyplace she has been before. Over the decades the world starts to change, as she passes from the 19th century to the 20th. Aubry sees countless wonders, but she sees most of them alone, as she longs to share her strange life with someone, and finally find a place to call home. 

I enjoyed this book a lot. It had a lot of really great set pieces, and Westerbeke did a good job building vibrant, interesting characters even if they were only part of the book briefly. The nested, non-linear stories did a really great job conveying the endlessness of Aubry's travels, as well as the vibrancy of her experiences. My biggest complaint was that the book couldn't seem to decide whether the "why" of Aubry's illness mattered, and I think I would have preferred it go entirely unexplained over the half measures taken towards the end (along with a totally unnecessary bootstrap paradox). Despite a couple of hiccups, I think this is really impressive for a debut novel, and did quite enjoy it.