orionmerlin's reviews
694 reviews

Red, White & Royal Blue by Casey McQuiston

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emotional funny hopeful lighthearted reflective medium-paced
  • Plot- or character-driven? A mix
  • Strong character development? Yes
  • Loveable characters? Yes
  • Diverse cast of characters? Yes
  • Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

3.75

Characters: 8/10
Alex and Henry have some serious chemistry, and their dynamic is pure gold. Alex is that one friend who thinks he’s the smartest (and hottest) person in the room, and honestly, he’s not wrong. Henry is basically the human embodiment of a sad Spotify playlist in a perfectly tailored suit. Their banter is fantastic, their emotional growth is solid, and the side characters—Zahra, June, and Nora—steal scenes left and right. That said, some of them exist just to prop up Alex’s main character energy, but hey, at least they do it stylishly.
Atmosphere/Setting: 7/10
The book technically takes place in the White House, Buckingham Palace, and various fancy locations, but let’s be real—the setting is just here to make everything feel important while the actual story focuses on Alex and Henry flirting across continents. The political landscape is, shall we say, optimistic, but if I wanted gritty realism, I wouldn’t be reading a rom-com about a fictional First Son and a British prince secretly texting heart emojis.
Writing Style: 8/10
McQuiston’s writing is a delightful mix of snark, heart, and 21st-century chaos. The dialogue is rapid-fire, packed with quips, and occasionally too polished, but let’s be honest—nobody reads a book like this expecting gritty realism. The emotional beats hit hard when they need to, though sometimes the humor steamrolls over them a bit too quickly. Overall, it’s a fun, modern, and totally bingeable writing style that keeps things moving at top speed.
Plot: 7/10
Enemies to lovers? Check. Secret romance? Check. Political stakes that feel just high enough to create drama but never high enough to ruin the fun? Also check. The pacing is solid, though some of the heavier moments feel a little too neatly wrapped up. Is it predictable? Oh, absolutely. But is it also a great time? Yes. You know how this story is going to end from page one, but you’ll still be grinning like an idiot when you get there.
Intrigue: 8/10
Would I ignore my responsibilities to keep reading this book? Yes. Is it because of an unpredictable, high-stakes plot? Not even a little. The intrigue here is all about the romance—will they finally admit their feelings? Will they get caught? Will Alex send another aggressively flirty email that makes Henry malfunction? You’ll keep reading because you need to see them get their happy ending, and that’s the best kind of page-turner.
Logic/Relationships: 7/10
If you overthink the logistics of Alex and Henry’s relationship, your brain will short-circuit. The world reacts way too positively to their romance for it to feel realistic, and the royal family’s response is hilariously tame. But let’s be honest—if this book was realistic, it wouldn’t be nearly as fun. The relationships, though, are fantastic. Alex and Henry’s dynamic is chef’s kiss, and the friendships (even if they’re a little underdeveloped) bring a ton of warmth to the story. Just don’t ask too many questions about the actual politics, and you’ll be fine.
Enjoyment: 8/10
This book is like a really well-made rom-com: a little ridiculous, a little predictable, and a whole lot of fun. The romance is swoon-worthy, the humor is sharp, and the overall vibe is pure serotonin. It’s not perfect, but it knows what it is—an escapist, heartwarming queer love story with high stakes that don’t feel too high. If you’re in the mood for something charming, flirty, and just self-aware enough to make you laugh at the absurdity of it all, this book delivers.
Final Verdict: 7.5/10
This book is a warm, witty, political fairy tale that asks, what if the world was way nicer and a little gayer? If you love fast-paced romance, snarky dialogue, and a story that makes your heart happy, you’ll have a great time. Sure, it leans hard into wish fulfillment, but honestly? Sometimes we need that. 
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The Gilded Wolves by Roshani Chokshi

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adventurous challenging dark emotional mysterious tense medium-paced
  • Plot- or character-driven? A mix
  • Strong character development? It's complicated
  • Loveable characters? It's complicated
  • Diverse cast of characters? Yes
  • Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

3.75

Characters – 8/10
I’ll give credit where it’s due: the cast is vibrant, diverse, and packed with personality. Séverin is the broody, revenge-driven mastermind; Laila is the mysterious, tragic beauty with a heart of gold; Enrique is the history nerd with a sharp tongue; Zofia is a socially awkward genius who doesn’t have time for nonsense; and Tristan… well, he likes spiders. A lot. While I enjoyed their banter and relationships, some characters (cough Tristan cough) felt underdeveloped, and certain dynamics—like Séverin and Laila’s oh-so-tortured romance—relied a bit too much on telling instead of showing. Still, they’re a loveable bunch of misfits, even if I occasionally wanted to shake them.
Atmosphere/Setting – 7/10
Welcome to 1889 Paris—except don’t get too comfortable, because this book is way more interested in explaining secret societies and magical artifacts than letting you actually feel the city. Don’t get me wrong, the setting should be stunning. There are opulent hotels, lavish parties, and deadly heists happening under the city’s gaslit glow. But too often, the world-building gets bogged down by info-dumps about the Order of Babel and the mechanics of Forging, making me feel like I was studying for an exam instead of sinking into a lush historical fantasy. When the book actually lets the setting breathe, it’s great—I just wish it had spent more time letting the atmosphere speak for itself rather than stuffing it down my throat.
Writing Style – 8/10
Chokshi’s prose is gorgeous—sometimes too gorgeous. She clearly came to serve poetry, and while I appreciate a beautifully written book, there were moments where the metaphors were so heavy-handed that I felt like I needed a machete to hack through them. At its best, the writing is lyrical, immersive, and filled with clever dialogue that keeps the characters distinct. At its worst, it’s so flowery that I forgot what was actually happening in the scene. If you like lush, atmospheric writing, you’ll love it. If you prefer things straight to the point, you might need a bit of patience.
Plot – 7/10
A high-stakes heist with a found family crew? Sounds amazing, right? Well… kind of. The setup is thrilling, the premise is golden, but the execution? A little messy. The pacing is inconsistent—sometimes dragging through world-building dumps, other times launching into high-action sequences so fast that you barely process them. The puzzles and riddles were fun, but the solutions often felt way too convenient. The ending? A bit of a rushed letdown, honestly. The book spends so much time setting up mysteries that when it finally starts revealing answers, it feels like it’s running out of pages. I wanted to be gasping at the twists—instead, I was mostly just going, huh, okay then.
Intrigue – 8/10
Look, I was invested. The mix of magic, history, and secret societies had me intrigued from the start, and I needed to know how everything would play out. But did I race through the book at breakneck speed? Not exactly. The pacing hiccups and over-explained world-building slowed me down, and while the twists were fine, they didn’t always have the impact they should have. Still, the stakes were high, the characters were fun, and the overarching mystery was interesting enough to keep me hooked.
Logic/Relationships – 7/10
This book wants you to believe in its deep emotional connections, and sometimes it succeeds—but not always. Séverin and Laila’s romance should have been heartbreaking, but instead, it felt like I was being told how tragic they were rather than feeling it. Enrique’s love triangle had potential, but it never quite reached the depth it needed. On the plus side, the found family dynamic was solid, and their interactions did feel genuine (even when they were bickering like exhausted siblings). The magic system? Creative but a little too flexible. The rules seemed to bend whenever the plot needed them to, which made things feel convenient rather than clever.
Enjoyment – 8/10
Despite my complaints, I did enjoy this book. It’s an entertaining mix of puzzles, betrayal, and heist shenanigans, wrapped in a gilded historical setting with a diverse cast. But did it fully live up to its potential? Not quite. The pacing was uneven, the romance needed work, and the world-building sometimes felt like reading a research paper. That said, if you’re here for lush prose, high-stakes adventures, and witty banter, you’ll have a good time—as long as you don’t mind wading through some excessive descriptions and a plot that doesn’t always stick the landing.
Final Verdict: 7.5/10
The Gilded Wolves is good, but it could have been great. It nails the found family dynamic, delivers a fun historical-fantasy heist, and serves up some solid twists. But it also stumbles with its pacing, drowns in its own world-building, and doesn’t always let its emotional moments breathe. Still, if you like books with Six of Crows vibes, fancy treasure hunts, and characters with too many secrets, you’ll probably enjoy the ride—just be prepared for a few bumps along the way. 
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A Good Girl's Guide to Murder by Holly Jackson

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emotional mysterious tense fast-paced
  • Plot- or character-driven? A mix
  • Strong character development? It's complicated
  • Loveable characters? It's complicated
  • Diverse cast of characters? It's complicated
  • Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated

3.5

 Characters – 7/10
Pip is a high schooler with the investigative skills of an FBI agent, which is impressive—if not a little unbelievable. She’s smart, determined, and almost too good at everything, making her feel more like a Sherlock Holmes in Converse than a real teenager. Ravi is charming but underdeveloped, mostly existing to remind us that his brother was wrongfully accused (as if we’d forget). The rest of the cast? Serviceable, but they exist mostly to push Pip’s story forward rather than stand out on their own. And the villain? Well, let’s just say the big reveal isn’t as earth-shattering as it wants to be​.
Atmosphere/Setting – 7/10
Little Kilton is your classic small town with dark secrets, but somehow, it never feels as ominous as it should. For a book about murder, wrongful accusations, and deep-seated prejudice, the atmosphere is surprisingly tame. A little more grit, a little less “suburban teen sleuth,” and this could have had real True Detective energy. Instead, it’s more like Veronica Mars Lite™.
Writing Style – 7.5/10
Holly Jackson knows how to keep a story moving, I’ll give her that. The mix of prose, interview transcripts, and Pip’s production logs keeps things fresh and engaging. But Pip’s inner monologue? A little too quirky at times—like a Buzzfeed listicle come to life. And while the dialogue mostly works, there are moments where characters sound more like they’re performing for a CW drama than having actual conversations​.
Plot – 7/10
The plot is intriguing, sure, but let’s be honest—Pip solves things way too easily. Either this town’s police department is staffed by goldfish, or Pip is the reincarnation of Poirot. The red herrings are about as subtle as a neon sign, and some of the twists are so heavily foreshadowed that they land with a dull thud instead of a gasp. And the ending? Tied up in a neat little bow, because god forbid we have lingering questions​.
Intrigue – 8/10
Despite the nitpicks, I couldn’t put this book down. Even when I rolled my eyes at how conveniently Pip uncovered every clue, I kept turning pages like I was running out of oxygen. Jackson knows how to keep the suspense going, even if some of the tension fizzles out when you realize Pip is practically untouchable. It’s gripping, but could’ve been so much more nail-biting if she actually faced real consequences​.
Logic/Relationships – 6.5/10
This is where things get shaky. Pip’s ability to outsmart law enforcement at every turn is ridiculous, and the ease with which people spill their darkest secrets to a teenager is just plain laughable. The romance with Ravi? Cute, but rushed. Her friendships? Barely explored. And don’t even get me started on the town’s collective ability to just accept the most obvious explanation for everything. Suspense of disbelief is one thing, but this book asks for a full-blown trust fall​.
Enjoyment – 7.5/10
Was it a masterpiece? No. Did I have fun? Absolutely. The pacing is lightning-fast, the mystery is engaging, and Pip is a protagonist you want to root for, even when she’s insufferably competent. If you don’t think too hard about the logic gaps and just go along for the ride, it’s an enjoyable thriller. Just don’t expect to be blown away by the realism​.
Final Verdict: 7/10
A Good Girl’s Guide to Murder is a fun, fast-paced YA mystery that doesn’t always make sense but is entertaining enough that you won’t care (much). It’s like eating an entire bag of popcorn—you enjoy it in the moment, but afterward, you realize it wasn’t the most satisfying meal. Would I recommend it? Sure. Would I put it on a “must-read” list? Not quite. 
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The Love Hypothesis by Ali Hazelwood

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funny hopeful lighthearted medium-paced
  • Plot- or character-driven? A mix
  • Strong character development? It's complicated
  • Loveable characters? It's complicated
  • Diverse cast of characters? It's complicated
  • Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated

3.25

Characters – 7/10
Olive is your typical adorkable heroine—clumsy, socially awkward, and prone to overthinking every life choice. It’s cute for a while, but by the tenth rambling monologue, I wanted to sit her down and force-feed her a dose of self-awareness. Adam Carlsen? Tall, brooding, a certified grump with a heart of gold—basically a romance novel Mad Libs. He’s fine, but his backstory is so thin it might as well be printed on a napkin. The side characters, particularly Anh and Malcolm, exist solely to meddle in Olive’s life and push the plot forward. And don’t get me started on the villain—was he written by a middle schooler who just discovered what “cartoonishly evil” means?
Atmosphere/Setting – 6.5/10
A romance novel set in academia? Sounds refreshing! Except... it barely scratches the surface of what being in STEM is actually like. There are some fun nods to grant writing and research, but if you were hoping for a deep dive into the cutthroat world of academia, you’re out of luck. The lab setting exists purely as a backdrop for awkward flirting, and outside of campus? Good luck remembering a single vividly described location.
Writing Style – 7/10
Hazelwood’s writing is fun and breezy, and Olive’s inner thoughts are often hilarious—until they’re not. She has a tendency to over-explain everything, as if the reader has the attention span of a goldfish. The humor is hit or miss, with some genuinely funny moments but also a heavy reliance on fanfiction-style quirks (stammering! Face-palming! Falling into people’s arms!). If you like dialogue that reads like a rom-com script, you’ll be happy. If you prefer subtlety and emotional nuance, well...
Plot – 6/10
It’s fake dating, people. If you’ve read one fake-dating book, you already know exactly where this is going. The reason for the arrangement? Flimsier than Olive’s old contact lenses. The inevitable misunderstanding? Predictable. The central conflict? Wrapped up so neatly you’d think it came with a bow. It’s not a bad plot, but it’s so formulaic you could set your watch by it. If you’re looking for twists, complexity, or anything that might make you pause and think, keep walking.
Intrigue – 7.5/10
Despite the predictability, I have to admit—it’s addictive. The chemistry between Olive and Adam is solid, and even though I knew exactly how every single plot beat would play out, I still wanted to see it unfold. The book does a great job of keeping things moving, even if the stakes feel about as high as a friendly game of Uno.
Logic/Relationships – 6/10
Olive and Adam’s relationship is built on the kind of contrived setup that only works in rom-coms, and even then, you have to suspend a lot of disbelief. The faculty-student dynamic is swept under the rug so aggressively it might as well be collecting dust bunnies. There’s chemistry, sure, but their emotional connection? Meh. Side relationships, like Olive’s friendships, exist only to facilitate the romance, and the antagonist is so over-the-top he might as well be twirling a mustache.
Enjoyment – 7/10
Look, I rolled my eyes a lot while reading this book, but I still had a good time. It’s fun, fluffy, and undeniably charming in places. Will it change your life? No. Will you devour it in one sitting and then immediately forget half the plot? Absolutely. If you’re in the mood for a predictable, trope-heavy, serotonin-boosting rom-com, this will hit the spot. If you’re looking for depth, originality, or a romance that isn’t built on pure nonsense, you might want to keep browsing.
Final Verdict: 6.5/10
The Love Hypothesis is basically the book equivalent of a Hallmark movie with a STEM twist. It’s cute, funny, and ridiculously predictable. It leans hard on tropes, but if you’re here for the fake dating, grumpy-sunshine dynamic, and awkward flirting, you’ll have fun. Just don’t expect emotional depth, a believable setup, or a villain with more than one personality trait. 
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Normal People by Sally Rooney

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emotional reflective sad tense slow-paced
  • Plot- or character-driven? Character
  • Strong character development? It's complicated
  • Loveable characters? It's complicated
  • Diverse cast of characters? No
  • Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

3.25

Characters – 7/10
Connell and Marianne are emotionally complex, sure, but they also spend a ridiculous amount of time misunderstanding each other in ways that make you want to throw the book across the room. Connell is a self-sabotaging mess with the communication skills of a damp sponge, and Marianne swings between being refreshingly self-possessed and utterly self-destructive. They’re both compelling, but good grief, their inability to say what they actually feel gets exhausting. The secondary characters are mostly set dressing—Alan is a cartoonishly awful villain, and Rachel exists solely to be an insecure mean girl.
Atmosphere/Setting – 6/10
Rooney’s idea of setting is less about describing places and more about describing the emotional weight of them. Carricklea feels stifling, but Dublin should have been more vibrant—it’s supposed to represent growth and change, yet it feels just as dreary. The characters talk about their surroundings as if they barely register them, which makes sense given their constant existential crises. At times, I wanted something—a stronger sensory moment, a more vivid description—to ground me, but nope. Everything remains aesthetically minimal, which is very on-brand for Rooney, but also kind of dull.
Writing Style – 8/10
Rooney’s prose is clean, sharp, and deliberately devoid of flourish. She doesn’t bother with quotation marks, because apparently, that’s a construct she’s above. Her dialogue is good—probably the strongest part of her writing—but sometimes the starkness borders on clinical. It’s very much the “let’s say a lot while actually saying very little” style, which works great for tension but can also feel infuriatingly detached. The writing is smart, I’ll give her that, but occasionally it feels like it’s holding the reader at arm’s length, as if raw emotion is something to be acknowledged but never fully indulged in.
Plot – 5/10
Plot? What plot? Normal People is 300+ pages of two people failing to communicate, making the same mistakes, and torturing themselves over it. It’s a cycle: get close, push each other away, suffer silently, repeat. By the time the book reaches its climax (if you can even call it that), I wanted to shake both characters and scream, “Just say what you mean, for the love of God!” The pacing is inconsistent—sometimes beautifully introspective, sometimes painfully sluggish. If you’re looking for a book where things happen, this isn’t it. If you enjoy watching two intelligent people self-sabotage for years, step right up.
Intrigue – 7/10
Despite the fact that it’s repetitive, Normal People does have that soap-opera pull—you want to know what happens next, even as you brace yourself for another round of Connell brooding in a corner and Marianne making dubious life choices. Their dynamic is messy and frustrating, but it’s real, and there’s something compelling about watching two people who are clearly meant to be together absolutely butcher their chances at happiness. That said, there were moments where I caught myself sighing dramatically and thinking, “Do I really care anymore?”
Logic/Relationships – 6/10
Marianne and Connell’s relationship is the definition of it’s complicated, and not always in a way that makes sense. Connell’s social anxiety and fear of being perceived are relatable but also infuriating—his constant self-doubt and inability to just tell people what he wants gets old. Meanwhile, Marianne has some serious self-worth issues that lead her into a series of relationships that are more red flags than actual human beings. Their attraction to each other is undeniable, but the way they navigate it is a constant exercise in unnecessary suffering. Also, the whole “Connell can’t be seen dating Marianne because of social status” thing feels a bit high school drama, considering we’re meant to take it as serious emotional trauma.
Enjoyment – 6/10
Did I appreciate this book? Yes. Did I enjoy it? That’s a different question. There are moments of gut-wrenching emotional truth, and Rooney is a master at capturing the nuances of relationships. But the sheer amount of frustration I felt while reading—watching these two fumble their way through life in a constant state of avoidable miscommunication—made it a less enjoyable experience than it could have been. It’s a book that makes you feel things, but half the time, those feelings are just pure exasperation. Would I recommend it? Sure, but only to people who enjoy being emotionally wrung out and yelled at by their own thoughts.
Final Verdict: 6.5/10
Normal People is an exercise in watching two people who clearly love each other make every possible wrong choice before circling back to where they started. It’s frustrating, beautifully written, and emotionally exhausting. If you like introspective, character-driven fiction with a heavy dose of will-they-won’t-they-but-mostly-won’t, this is for you. If you prefer books where characters actually grow and learn from their mistakes, you might want to look elsewhere. 
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Service Model by Adrian Tchaikovsky

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challenging dark funny reflective medium-paced
  • Plot- or character-driven? A mix
  • Strong character development? It's complicated
  • Loveable characters? It's complicated
  • Diverse cast of characters? It's complicated
  • Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

4.0

Characters – 8.5/10
Uncharles is exactly what you’d expect from an AI valet caught in an existential crisis—meticulous, logical, and way too willing to obey even the most asinine instructions. He’s like if Jeeves had a meltdown and decided to overthrow the aristocracy… except he never quite gets there. The Wonk, meanwhile, injects some much-needed chaos into his world, shaking things up with her feral energy and general disregard for authority. Their dynamic is fun, but let’s be real: she’s there mostly to push Uncharles toward self-discovery rather than being a fully fleshed-out character. As for the rest? The bureaucratic overlords and robotic drones are entertaining but more or less props for the satire. It works, but if you’re looking for deeply nuanced human drama, look elsewhere​.
Atmosphere/Setting – 8/10
Tchaikovsky’s world is bleak, oppressive, and as painfully bureaucratic as an unskippable customer service phone tree. Every location feels like it was designed by a government office that lost its funding halfway through construction. The Conservation Farms? A mechanized nightmare of efficiency gone wrong. The Central Library? A hoarder’s paradise with delusions of grandeur. It’s all fascinating and immersive, but sometimes the world feels more like an elaborate stage for Tchaikovsky’s satire than a real place. It gets the job done, but I wouldn’t exactly call it subtle​.
Writing Style – 9/10
Tchaikovsky’s prose is sharp, clever, and dripping with dry wit. He knows how to take a simple concept—robots stuck in an endless loop of meaningless tasks—and make it both hilarious and deeply unsettling. The dialogue is snappy, the narration is engaging, and the humor is on point. That said, he does love to drag some jokes out past their expiration date, which occasionally slows things down. Still, if you appreciate sci-fi with a satirical edge and an AI protagonist whose existential crisis is somehow funnier than your own, you’ll enjoy the ride​.
Plot – 7.5/10
The story is basically a series of increasingly ridiculous bureaucratic nightmares strung together, with Uncharles stumbling from one broken system to another like a malfunctioning Roomba. The first half is engaging, the middle starts to feel a bit repetitive (yes, we get it, bureaucracy is terrible), and the ending is solid but not exactly mind-blowing. There are some great twists and turns, but the plot mostly exists to serve the book’s themes rather than keep you on the edge of your seat. If you’re here for action-packed thrills, you’re in the wrong place. If you’re here for robots dunking on capitalism, you’re in luck​.
Intrigue – 6/10
Let’s be honest—this book is not a pulse-pounding page-turner. It’s engaging in a “let’s watch society collapse under the weight of its own stupidity” kind of way, but it’s also dense, dialogue-heavy, and sometimes bogged down by its own satire. The humor and weirdness kept me going, but there were definitely points where I had to take a break before diving back into another round of bureaucratic nonsense. If you’re looking for high-stakes action or a twisty mystery, you’ll be disappointed. If you’re here to watch an AI question its own existence while getting trapped in endless red tape, you’re golden.
Logic/Relationships – 10/10
For a book about completely broken systems, Service Model is remarkably well put together. The logic behind every absurdity is airtight, making its satire hit even harder. The relationships, particularly between Uncharles and the Wonk, are well-crafted and layered—though it’s less about emotional depth and more about clashing ideologies. Their dynamic is great, but don’t expect warm fuzzies. This book is about cold, unfeeling logic clashing with chaotic rebellion, and in that sense, it absolutely nails what it sets out to do​.
Enjoyment – 7.5/10
Did I enjoy Service Model? Absolutely. Did I love every single moment of it? Not quite. It’s an incredibly smart book, but it’s also dense, occasionally repetitive, and so committed to its satire that it sometimes forgets to let the story breathe. The humor and sharp writing kept me entertained, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t skim a few sections when the bureaucracy got too bureaucratic. Still, if you like your sci-fi with a heavy dose of existential dread and dark humor, this is a ride worth taking​.
Final Verdict: 8/10
Service Model is what happens when you take The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, remove all hope, and replace it with the worst aspects of customer service. It’s brilliantly satirical, darkly hilarious, and painfully accurate in its depiction of bureaucratic hellscapes. But it’s also dense, occasionally repetitive, and more focused on making a point than telling a gripping story. If you’re in the mood for sharp social commentary wrapped in dry humor, you’ll have a great time. If you’re looking for fast-paced action or deep emotional resonance, you might want to file this one under “appreciated, but not loved.” 
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The Silent Patient by Alex Michaelides

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dark emotional mysterious tense medium-paced
  • Plot- or character-driven? A mix
  • Strong character development? It's complicated
  • Loveable characters? No
  • Diverse cast of characters? No
  • Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

3.75

Characters – 7/10
Alicia Berenson is a fascinating character in theory—a silent woman with a traumatic past? Sounds intriguing. But in execution, she’s more of a concept than a person, conveniently staying mute while everyone around her projects their own theories. Theo Faber, our brilliant psychotherapist protagonist, spends most of the book being obsessively invested in Alicia, to a level that should have gotten him fired several times over. The rest of the cast? Barely more than plot devices. Gabriel, the picture-perfect husband? A walking cliché. Jean-Felix? Annoying. Diomedes? Dramatic. It’s like a TV procedural where everyone exists to push the story forward rather than feel like real people.
Atmosphere/Setting – 7/10
A high-security mental health facility should feel eerie, tense, and oppressive. Instead, The Grove reads like a poorly managed office building where no one really cares about security protocols. The setting is fine, but it never fully capitalizes on the creepiness of a psychiatric hospital filled with potentially violent patients. The London art scene is mentioned, but aside from a few references to paintings, it could have been replaced with literally any other career path. A wasted opportunity for a more immersive setting.
Writing Style – 7/10
The writing is efficient, meaning it gets the job done but won’t exactly leave you in awe of its literary brilliance. It’s written in short, punchy chapters designed to keep you flipping pages like you’re binge-watching a Netflix show. Theo’s narration is engaging enough, but let’s be honest—it often feels like he’s spoon-feeding us the story rather than letting us figure things out. Alicia’s diary entries? A little too polished for someone who’s supposedly spiraling. If you’re here for poetic prose, look elsewhere. If you just want a quick, drama-filled ride, you’ll be fine.
Plot – 8/10
This is where the book actually delivers. The pacing is tight, the structure is solid, and the story keeps you intrigued. But let’s not pretend the twist is some next-level mind-blowing revelation. If you’ve read enough thrillers, you’ll probably see it coming before the big aha! moment. The book spends so much time leading you toward a conclusion that, by the time you get there, it’s more of a “Finally!” than a “Wow!” That said, it’s still an entertaining journey, even if it relies on a few conveniently timed omissions.
Intrigue – 9/10
Despite its flaws, The Silent Patient is ridiculously addictive. Even when I was rolling my eyes at Theo’s questionable therapist behavior or Alicia’s conveniently tragic past, I couldn’t stop reading. The mystery unfolds at just the right pace to keep you hooked, and the suspense is strong enough that even when you do see the twist coming, you still want to know how everything plays out. It’s got that “just one more chapter” energy, even if you’re side-eyeing some of the storytelling choices.
Logic/Relationships – 6/10
Ah yes, the land of questionable ethics and implausible character decisions. Theo, a trained psychotherapist, breaks basically every professional rule in existence but somehow keeps his job. His marriage? An underdeveloped subplot that exists just to parallel Alicia’s situation. The psychiatric system? Dubiously portrayed at best. The relationships in this book aren’t exactly built on depth—more like they exist to serve the plot. It’s fine if you don’t think about it too hard, but if you start questioning how much of this actually makes sense, good luck.
Enjoyment – 7/10
I had fun with The Silent Patient, but I wouldn’t call it great. It’s the kind of book that’s perfect for a lazy weekend read when you want something fast, twisty, and entertaining—but don’t expect it to hold up under deeper scrutiny. The mystery is solid, the tension is there, and it’s definitely engaging, but it never quite reaches the psychological depth it pretends to have. Would I recommend it? Sure, but only if you go in knowing you’re getting a popcorn thriller rather than a profound exploration of trauma and silence.
Final Verdict: 7.3/10
A solid psychological thriller with an engaging mystery, but let’s not pretend it’s groundbreaking. The characters do their job, the setting could have been creepier, and the writing is straightforward but not exactly memorable. The twist is good but not great, and the book as a whole is the literary equivalent of a well-made but predictable crime drama. Entertaining? Absolutely. A masterpiece? Not so much. 
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Six of Crows by Leigh Bardugo

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adventurous dark emotional mysterious tense fast-paced
  • Plot- or character-driven? A mix
  • Strong character development? It's complicated
  • Loveable characters? It's complicated
  • Diverse cast of characters? Yes
  • Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

3.75

Characters: 8/10
The crew is cool—maybe too cool. Each member is distinct, and their banter is great, but let’s be real: they’re walking, talking archetypes. Kaz is the broody mastermind with a tragic past, Inej is the noble assassin with a heart of gold, Jesper is the charming gunslinger who shockingly has a gambling problem, and so on. It’s fun, but also predictable. And let’s not pretend the villains have any depth—they’re just there to be outsmarted. Still, the team dynamics are engaging enough to carry the book, even if some of the emotional beats feel like they were manufactured in a lab.
Atmosphere/Setting: 7/10
Ketterdam sounds gritty and immersive, but scratch beneath the surface, and it’s mostly crime-fantasy aesthetic. The city is a mishmash of Amsterdam and Dickensian London, but it never quite reaches the level of a fully realized world like The Lies of Locke Lamora or The Name of the Wind. It’s good enough to set the mood, but it often feels like the backdrop exists just to make the characters look cool rather than to function as a living, breathing place. Also, the Ice Court? Feels more like a conveniently designed heist level than an actual fortress.
Writing Style: 7/10
Bardugo’s writing is solid, but it sometimes leans a little too hard into “Look at how edgy and clever we are.” The dialogue is fun, but occasionally feels like it’s trying too hard to be snappy. The POV shifts are mostly smooth, but the frequent backstory dumps in the middle of tense scenes? Less so. And while the prose is engaging, it sometimes veers into melodrama—Kaz can’t just have a dark past, he must have the most tragic backstory of all time. Still, the book reads fast and keeps the intrigue alive, even when it stumbles.
Plot: 7/10
This is a heist story, which means it should be packed with tension, twists, and moments where everything almost goes wrong… except Kaz planned for it, because of course he did. The plot is good, but it’s also full of moments where it feels like the stakes aren’t actually that high. The crew faces obstacles, but the solutions always seem just within reach. Kaz is playing 4D chess while everyone else is playing Go Fish, which makes the whole thing feel less like a true gamble and more like a stylish flex. Fun? Absolutely. Believable? Not so much.
Intrigue: 9/10
Despite its flaws, Six of Crows is stupidly entertaining. Even when the story leans into its own clichés, I wanted to keep turning the pages. The shifting dynamics, character backstories, and ever-present sense of impending betrayal keep the tension alive. I was invested, even when I rolled my eyes at how absurdly competent these teenagers are. The book does a great job of making you care, even when it occasionally stretches credibility past its breaking point.
Logic/Relationships: 6/10
Kaz is practically a crime deity, Matthias’ Grisha-hatred gets resolved way too fast, and Jesper and Wylan’s chemistry is more because the plot says so than something that genuinely develops. Some relationships work (Kaz and Inej’s dynamic is great because it’s messy and unresolved), but others feel like they were written to fit a quota. Also, the world-building? A little wobbly. Magic rules and security protocols seem to adjust based on what’s convenient for the plot. There are moments when the book wants me to believe this crew is barely scraping by, but it’s hard to buy when their strategies always feel airtight.
Enjoyment: 8/10
I had fun. Annoyed fun, but fun. Yes, the book leans heavily on heist tropes. Yes, it sometimes feels like Ocean’s Eleven: YA Edition. Yes, Kaz’s “I’m always three steps ahead” shtick can get grating. But the snappy dialogue, high-stakes action, and found-family dynamics kept me engaged. It’s stylish, fast-paced, and entertaining, even when it occasionally feels a little too polished for its own good.
Final Verdict: 7.4/10
Six of Crows is like a high-budget action movie: full of great characters, thrilling moments, and slick dialogue, but if you think too hard about it, you’ll start seeing the cracks. If you’re here for an airtight, unpredictable heist with deep world-building, you might be a little disappointed. But if you want a fun, fast-paced adventure with a lovable crew of misfits, this is absolutely worth the ride—even if it sometimes feels like the safety net is a little too visible. 
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Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespeare

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dark emotional reflective sad tense medium-paced
  • Plot- or character-driven? A mix
  • Strong character development? Yes
  • Loveable characters? It's complicated
  • Diverse cast of characters? No
  • Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

4.5

Characters: 9/10
I found the characters in Romeo and Juliet unforgettable and deeply compelling. Romeo and Juliet themselves felt multidimensional, embodying youthful passion and impulsivity, while their tragic flaws added depth. Secondary characters like Mercutio and the Nurse were vibrant and essential to the narrative, providing humor, wisdom, and contrasting perspectives that enriched the story. Tybalt's fiery nature and Friar Laurence's conflicted morality were equally impactful. I cared deeply about their fates, and I can vividly describe their personalities because of how distinct they are. Their decisions and interactions felt authentic and emotionally resonant, making the cast one of the strongest aspects of the play.
Atmosphere/Setting: 8/10
The setting of Verona felt immersive, with the feuding families and the city's romantic yet volatile atmosphere drawing me in completely. The energy of the scenes was vivid, from the fiery clashes between the Montagues and Capulets to the tender moments of Romeo and Juliet’s secret romance. Shakespeare's imagery brought these scenes to life, though the descriptions were sometimes secondary to the dialogue. While I could clearly imagine the setting, I think the story leaned more on mood than physical detail to create its world. The atmosphere effectively amplified the tension and tragedy throughout the play.
Writing Style: 10/10
Shakespeare’s writing style is nothing short of masterful. His use of poetic language, particularly iambic pentameter and rhymed couplets, created an engaging rhythm that felt beautiful and timeless. The balance between dialogue and narration was perfect, as the characters’ words conveyed both plot and profound emotion. The flow of the writing was effortless, and his turns of phrase are so memorable that they remain iconic centuries later. The writing is dense yet accessible with effort, and I was continually awed by the beauty of the prose. This play made me eager to explore more of Shakespeare’s work.
Plot: 8/10
The plot of Romeo and Juliet was well-paced and cohesive, with a tragic inevitability that kept me captivated. The narrative moved quickly but never felt rushed, balancing moments of action with slower, intimate scenes. The twists—like Juliet's faked death—were gripping, though I knew the conclusion from the start. What made the story unique was its ability to evoke timeless themes of love, conflict, and fate in such a concentrated and impactful way. While the tragedy felt complete and satisfying, I think the reliance on misunderstandings and coincidence occasionally stretched believability, even for a story driven by fate.
Intrigue: 9/10
I was consistently eager to keep reading and uncover how the story would unfold, even though the ending is famously predictable. The play held my attention because of the emotional intensity and the characters’ deeply personal stakes. The interplay between love and violence created a compelling dynamic, and I never felt a lapse in engagement. Every scene felt meaningful, whether it heightened the romance, deepened the conflict, or propelled the story toward its tragic conclusion.
Logic/Relationships: 8/10
The characters’ actions were well-motivated and consistent with their personalities, though their impulsiveness often led to disastrous consequences. Romeo and Juliet’s love, though swift and intense, felt believable in the context of their youth and the societal pressures surrounding them. The world-building, focused on the feud and its effects, was sufficient and clear. However, some moments, like the sheer speed of their relationship or the miscommunications in the climax, felt slightly contrived. Despite this, the relationships and societal rules seamlessly fit into the story's emotional core, enhancing its impact.
Enjoyment: 10/10
I thoroughly enjoyed Romeo and Juliet. The combination of rich language, memorable characters, and intense emotional stakes made it a rewarding experience from start to finish. Even knowing the outcome, I was moved by the journey and appreciated its ability to evoke such a wide range of emotions. I would enthusiastically recommend this play to others, both for its literary significance and for the sheer pleasure of experiencing such a beautifully tragic story. 
Daisy Jones & The Six by Taylor Jenkins Reid

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emotional inspiring reflective sad tense medium-paced
  • Plot- or character-driven? Character
  • Strong character development? Yes
  • Loveable characters? It's complicated
  • Diverse cast of characters? It's complicated
  • Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

4.25

Characters: 9/10
These characters walked straight out of a rock-and-roll fever dream and into my brain, where they will likely remain forever. Daisy is a beautiful, chaotic mess, Billy is a control freak with a redemption arc, and everyone else? Absolutely crucial to the drama. Even the so-called "side characters" like Karen and Camila pack enough depth to make other books’ main characters look like cardboard cutouts. I cared. I ranted. I debated with myself in the mirror. If that’s not proof of strong character work, I don’t know what is.
Atmosphere/Setting: 9/10
If I didn’t know this was fiction, I’d be Googling old concert footage of Daisy Jones & The Six like a fool. The 1970s rock scene practically oozes off the page—smoky clubs, chaotic recording sessions, tour bus drama, and all the sex, drugs, and shattered dreams that come with it. The mood shifts from electric to tragic at the drop of a tambourine, and I felt every second of it.
Writing Style: 8/10
The interview-style format is a bold move, and for the most part, it pays off. It’s fast, engaging, and makes everything feel real—like I’m reading some epic Rolling Stone exposé. The dialogue-heavy approach means you get multiple perspectives on every situation, which is both brilliant and, at times, frustrating (because someone is always lying). The only downside? Sometimes I wanted a deeper dive into certain moments, and the format didn't always allow for it. Still, Reid’s writing is crisp, addictive, and packed with emotion.
Plot: 8/10
The story isn’t about shocking plot twists—it’s about watching a train wreck happen in slow motion while desperately hoping someone pulls the brake. The pacing is solid, though there are a few repetitive moments (yes, Billy and Daisy have chemistry; yes, it’s a problem; yes, we get it). The ending, however, hits hard and makes all the build-up worth it.
Intrigue: 9/10
I had plans. I had responsibilities. This book said, No, you don’t. I was hooked from the first page and would have happily canceled life to keep reading. I needed to know how the band fell apart, and Reid kept me hanging on every bitter, emotional, tension-filled moment. Even when I knew where things were headed, I still couldn’t look away.
Logic/Relationships: 9/10
These characters are all gloriously, frustratingly human. Their relationships—romantic, professional, toxic, codependent—are messy, but in the best way possible. The love triangles (yes, plural) are painful in all the right ways, and the friendships and betrayals are just as gripping as the romance. The world-building is seamless because it doesn’t feel like world-building. It just feels like we’re eavesdropping on real people with real problems.
Enjoyment: 9/10
I devoured this book. The highs felt euphoric, the lows wrecked me, and by the end, I had that bittersweet “I wish this was real” feeling. It’s compelling, dramatic, and makes you wish you could sit down with Daisy, Billy, and the rest of the gang for one last jam session. Would I recommend it? Absolutely. Would I sell my soul for an actual Aurora album? Probably.
Overall Score: 8.7/10
A wild, emotional, rock-and-roll rollercoaster that left me feeling like I’d just lived through the rise and fall of a real band. Almost too good to be fake.