orionmerlin's reviews
694 reviews

The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue by V.E. Schwab

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emotional hopeful mysterious reflective sad 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

4.75

Characters: 9/10
Addie LaRue and Luc? Absolute scene-stealers. Their complexity and emotional depth made them impossible to ignore, and I was fully invested in their messy, beautifully tragic dynamic. Henry added an extra layer of emotional turmoil—vulnerable, flawed, and just the right amount of tragic. Some of the side characters, though? Bea and Robbie existed, I guess. They weren’t bad, but let’s just say I wouldn’t have lost sleep if they had been a little more fleshed out. Still, with main characters this strong, it’s a minor gripe.
Atmosphere/Setting: 10/10
Schwab could describe a crumbling brick wall for three pages, and I’d still be riveted. The settings—from moody 18th-century France to the bustling anonymity of New York—felt rich, immersive, and dripping with atmosphere. Even the repetitive descriptions of shadows and longing (and oh boy, are there many) somehow worked in the book’s favor. It’s one of those rare times when an author hammering a theme into my skull actually enhanced the experience rather than feeling like overkill.
Writing Style: 10/10
Schwab’s prose isn’t just writing—it’s poetry that took a shot of espresso and decided to emotionally wreck me. Every line flows effortlessly, weaving a dreamlike, almost hypnotic effect that made it impossible to put the book down. Dialogue, narration, time jumps—it all worked seamlessly. Even the quieter moments carried weight, making me want to highlight entire pages. If Schwab wrote a 600-page guide to assembling Ikea furniture, I’d probably still be enthralled.
Plot: 9/10
A Faustian bargain with a petty, alluring god? A centuries-spanning struggle for identity and love? Yes, please. The story’s unique blend of history and magical realism kept me hooked from start to finish. That said, some sections meandered a little too long, lingering on the same beats of Addie’s life (yes, we get it—no one remembers her). But the emotional payoff was so satisfying that I was willing to forgive the occasional bout of déjà vu.
Intrigue: 10/10
This book had me in a chokehold. The premise alone was fascinating, and Schwab executed it masterfully. Every moment felt like it carried the weight of something bigger, whether it was the unraveling of Addie’s curse, her tenuous relationship with Luc, or the impending tragedy of it all. Even the slower, introspective sections had an undercurrent of tension that kept me coming back for more. If I had to take breaks, it was only because my emotions needed a second to recover.
Logic/Relationships: 9/10
Addie and Luc’s relationship was the definition of toxic, drawn-out yearning, and I loved every second of it. The magic system—specifically, the rules of Addie’s curse—was well thought out, though a few inconsistencies nagged at me. Her influence through art and memory felt a little fuzzy at times, but not enough to break the immersion. Henry’s deal was a brilliant counterpoint to Addie’s struggles, though I wouldn’t have minded digging even deeper into his arc.
Enjoyment: 10/10
Did I love this book? Absolutely. Did it emotionally wreck me? Also yes. Schwab delivered an exquisitely melancholic, beautifully written experience that left a lasting impression. Even the slower moments didn’t diminish my enjoyment—if anything, they made the emotional highs hit even harder. This book was like a bittersweet symphony that I never wanted to end. Would I read it again? Without hesitation. Would I recover emotionally? Unlikely. 
The Sea of Monsters by Rick Riordan

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

3.25

Characters: 7/10
Rick Riordan sure knows how to crank out a likable cast, but let’s not pretend they all have layers upon layers of depth. Percy Jackson remains a solid lead—witty, relatable, and easy to root for. Annabeth brings brains and determination, Tyson adds some wholesome chaos, and Clarisse gets a bit of the spotlight. But some of the villains? Yawn. One-dimensional at best, plot devices at worst. I could describe the core cast easily, but a little extra nuance wouldn’t have hurt.
Atmosphere/Setting: 7/10
The world is colorful, the creatures are creative, and Riordan clearly has fun weaving mythology into the modern setting. That being said, not every scene is a knockout. Some moments pull you right into the adventure—Polyphemus’s lair, Circe’s island, those are winners. But others? Rushed or undercooked. I wanted to be fully immersed the entire time, not just in bursts.
Writing Style: 7/10
Riordan’s writing is breezy, snarky, and keeps the pages turning. Percy’s sarcasm makes for an entertaining narrator, and the dialogue flows well. But let’s be real—there’s nothing especially deep or beautiful about the prose. It’s fun, it’s fast, it’s functional. Would I read another book by him? Sure. But am I here for the writing itself? Not really.
Plot: 6/10
Ah yes, another grand quest with a legendary object at the end of the road. The Golden Fleece gives the plot a clear direction, and there’s plenty of excitement along the way. But the twists? Not so twisty. The turns? Fairly predictable. Riordan’s formula of “modern kids + Greek myths = hijinks” is clever, but it’s starting to feel a little too familiar. The story is engaging enough, but I kept waiting for something unexpected to knock me off my feet—and it never really happened.
Intrigue: 6/10
Did this book hold my attention? Mostly. Did I ever feel the irresistible urge to drop everything and keep reading? Not really. There are some solid mysteries—what’s up with the Sea of Monsters, what’s this whole prophecy deal—but the pacing is uneven. Some parts grabbed me, while others had me mentally tallying my to-do list instead.
Logic/Relationships: 6/10
The relationships are the book’s strong suit—Percy, Annabeth, and Tyson’s dynamic has real heart. But the mythological world’s logic? Ehhh. The rules are a little too bendy, and the world-building feels like it’s there just enough to keep things moving without diving too deep. I never fully bought into the setting because it felt like it was making up rules as it went along.
Enjoyment: 6/10
This book was like a fun road trip where half the stops are exciting, and the other half are gas stations in the middle of nowhere. There were moments I genuinely enjoyed—clever humor, solid action, and touching character moments. But did I walk away feeling totally satisfied? Not quite. It’s entertaining, but it doesn’t stick with you. 
Into the Drowning Deep by Mira Grant

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

4.25

Characters: 8/10
Look, if you're going to throw a bunch of scientists and specialists onto a doomed mission, at least make them interesting—and thankfully, this book delivers. Victoria Stewart is driven, Theo Blackwell is delightfully eccentric, and even the side characters have enough personality to feel like more than just disposable horror movie extras. That said, a few of them fade into the background more than they should, making it hard to care when things go sideways. Still, overall, their motivations feel genuine, and I found myself invested in who would make it out alive (spoiler: not everyone).
Atmosphere/Setting: 9/10
Mira Grant took one look at the Mariana Trench and said, "Let's make this a nightmare." And she succeeded. The research vessel feels claustrophobic, the deep-sea setting is equal parts awe-inspiring and terrifying, and the mermaids? Yeah, they're not here to sing ballads. The horror is grounded in enough realism that it seeps into your bones, making you question why anyone thought this expedition was a good idea. The tension in the action sequences is practically tangible—I could almost hear the distant sound of impending doom.
Writing Style: 9/10
Grant’s writing is a smooth ride: just the right amount of technical detail to make the science believable, but not so much that you feel like you're trapped in a textbook. She knows how to pace the tension and drop just enough exposition without derailing the plot. The dialogue actually sounds like real people talking (a shocker, I know), and the horror elements blend seamlessly with the narrative. Honestly, if she wrote a grocery list, I'd probably read it.
Plot: 8/10
Ah, yes, the classic “let’s investigate a doomed mystery and act shocked when things go horribly wrong” setup. But to its credit, the story is a fun ride. The mystery of the killer mermaids is gripping, the twists mostly land, and the horror is satisfying. A few moments drag a little—like someone let go of the fast-forward button—but the payoff is worth it. It doesn’t completely reinvent the genre, but it does a damn good job playing in the sandbox.
Intrigue: 9/10
From page one, this book had its hooks in me (pun fully intended). The combination of speculative science, horror, and high-stakes survival makes it a binge-worthy read. The suspense builds at just the right pace, and I genuinely wanted to know who (if anyone) would make it out alive. It’s one of those books where you tell yourself, “Just one more chapter,” and suddenly it’s 3 AM.
Logic/Relationships: 8/10
For the most part, the characters make rational(ish) decisions, considering they’re in a horror novel where logic often takes a backseat. The science is handled well enough that it feels believable, and the relationships between characters develop naturally. That said, there are a couple of moments where I had to suspend my disbelief harder than I expected, but nothing too immersion-breaking. The world-building does a solid job of explaining the mermaids without over-explaining, though a bit more depth wouldn’t have hurt.
Enjoyment: 9/10
Was it perfect? No. Did I love it anyway? Absolutely. Between the creepy setting, the tension-fueled action, and the sheer entertainment of deep-sea murder mermaids, this book was a blast. It’s the kind of horror that lingers—not just in your mind but in the part of your brain that will now forever side-eye the ocean. Highly recommend if you want a mix of terror, science, and the gnawing realization that we should probably just leave the deep sea alone. 
A Sorceress Comes to Call by T. Kingfisher

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dark emotional mysterious reflective tense medium-paced
  • Plot- or character-driven? Character
  • 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
Kingfisher absolutely nails character work—especially with Cordelia, who’s caught in the kind of maternal nightmare that would make therapy bills skyrocket. Evangeline is the kind of villain that makes you want to physically fling the book across the room out of sheer frustration (which is, of course, a testament to how well she’s written). Hester is the much-needed voice of reason in the chaos, and even the secondary characters hold their own—though, let’s be real, some of them could’ve used a bit more page time. Cordelia’s journey from “compliance is survival” to “actually, screw this” was gripping from start to finish.
Atmosphere/Setting: 9/10
The gothic vibes in this book are immaculate. Cordelia’s house is so suffocating you can practically feel the walls closing in, while Chatham House provides just enough contrast to keep you from losing your mind entirely. And let’s not forget the ever-present creep factor—Falada’s eerie presence, the scent of wormwood, and the overwhelming sense that something awful is lurking just out of sight. Sure, there are a few moments where the tension loses a little steam, but overall, the setting does exactly what it’s supposed to: make you deeply uncomfortable in the best way.
Writing Style: 9/10
Kingfisher’s prose strikes that perfect balance between elegant and readable—none of that “overwritten gothic novel” nonsense here. The dialogue is sharp, the narration is fluid, and the emotional beats hit hard without ever feeling forced. Sure, the pacing occasionally drags when things get a little too introspective, but honestly? The writing is so consistently good that it’s hard to care. If this is what Kingfisher does with gothic horror, I’ll happily read whatever she writes next, even if it’s her grocery list.
Plot: 8.5/10
This is one of those stories that simmers before it boils over, which mostly works in its favor—except when it doesn’t. The slow-burn tension is masterfully handled, making every reveal feel earned. But let’s be honest: the middle section could’ve used a little caffeine. Some parts dragged just enough to make me check how many pages were left. That being said, the final act slaps—twists land, payoffs hit, and it all comes together in a way that makes the slower sections feel worth it.
Intrigue: 9/10
You ever start a book thinking you’ll just read a chapter before bed, and then suddenly it’s 3 a.m. and you’re contemplating life choices? Yeah, this is that kind of book. The sheer psychological horror of Cordelia’s situation, the gradual descent into dread, and the gnawing need to see how it all unravels kept me hooked. Even when the pacing slowed, the eerie, oppressive tension never let up. The best part? This book doesn’t just entertain—it lingers.
Logic/Relationships: 9/10
The relationships in this book are top-tier in the “oh no, this is deeply messed up” kind of way. Cordelia and her mother’s dynamic is a masterclass in psychological horror—equal parts terrifying and tragically believable. Falada’s big reveal? Gut-wrenching. The way Kingfisher establishes the rules of magic is subtle but rock-solid; she doesn’t spoon-feed the reader, but she also doesn’t leave you floundering in a sea of vague nonsense. If anything, I just wanted more—more exploration of the magic system, more insight into how it shapes the world beyond Cordelia’s nightmare of a household.
Enjoyment: 9.5/10
Look, I devoured this book. The gothic horror elements, the twisted family dynamics, the creeping dread—it all worked. Sure, the pacing had its hiccups, but at no point did I consider not finishing it. The emotional depth, the unnerving atmosphere, and the sheer quality of the writing make this a book I’ll be shoving into people’s hands for years to come. It’s not quite perfect, but it’s damn close. If you love gothic fantasy that actually delivers on its eerie premise, you need this in your life. 
The Wishing Spell by Chris Colfer

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adventurous funny hopeful lighthearted fast-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? It's complicated

3.0

Characters: 6/10
Alex and Conner at least had a pulse, which is more than I can say for some of the side characters who barely scraped by with a personality. Goldilocks and the Evil Queen had their moments, but a lot of the cast felt like they were assembled straight out of a "Fairytale Tropes 101" manual. I was mildly invested in the twins' journey, but let’s be real—some of these characters had the depth of a kiddie pool.
Atmosphere/Setting: 6/10
The Land of Stories had its moments of magic, but did I feel fully transported? Not really. Some places, like the Charming Kingdom, got some solid description, while others felt like they were sketched out in a rush and left me squinting for details. The action scenes had energy, sure, but the immersion level was hit-or-miss—like a theme park ride that forgets to turn on half the special effects.
Writing Style: 6/10
Colfer’s writing is functional—simple, straightforward, and easy to digest, which is great for a middle-grade audience but not exactly groundbreaking. The prose wasn’t painful, but it also wasn’t memorable. The dialogue had a habit of over-explaining things like a teacher who doesn’t trust you to do the reading. It kept me reading, but let’s just say I wasn’t itching to highlight any particularly dazzling sentences.
Plot: 6/10
It moved at a decent pace, but let’s be honest—this story isn’t breaking any new ground. Some moments, like the Evil Queen’s backstory, had actual emotional weight, but the journey itself felt like a very safe, paint-by-numbers fairytale adventure. Satisfying? Sure. But if you’ve read any fairytale retelling in the last decade, you’ve basically read this one too.
Intrigue: 6/10
Was I hooked? Occasionally. Did I have to force myself to keep going? Also occasionally. The premise had potential, and I wanted to see where it went, but there were plenty of points where I could easily close the book and forget about it. The whole "fairytales but make it interconnected" thing is fun in theory, but in execution, it never really grabbed me by the collar and demanded my attention.
Logic/Relationships: 6/10
The sibling dynamic was the highlight here—Alex and Conner actually felt like real kids, which was nice. But the world-building? Inconsistent at best. The book leaned hard on the "you already know fairytales, so just go with it" approach instead of making the world feel like it had its own rules. Some parts just didn’t add up, and while I wasn’t expecting Tolkien-level depth, a little more thought would’ve gone a long way.
Enjoyment: 6/10
It was fine. Not great, not terrible—just fine. The fairytale elements had their charm, and there were moments of fun, but the predictable plot and uneven execution made this one of those books you enjoy while reading but forget about a week later. If you’re a die-hard fairytale fan, you might get a kick out of it. If not? Meh. 
The Prophet by Suheil Bushrui, Kahlil Gibran

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emotional informative inspiring reflective slow-paced
  • Plot- or character-driven? N/A
  • Strong character development? N/A
  • Loveable characters? It's complicated
  • Diverse cast of characters? It's complicated
  • Flaws of characters a main focus? No

2.0

Characters: 4/10
Ah yes, the wise and profound Almustafa, dropping poetic wisdom like an overenthusiastic philosophy major. Too bad the townspeople exist purely as props to nod along and ask conveniently timed questions. They have all the depth of cardboard cutouts, making it impossible to care about them beyond their function as vague mouthpieces for The Big Ideas™.
Atmosphere/Setting: 5/10
Orphalese is supposed to be this deeply contemplative, almost mythical place, but good luck trying to picture it. The descriptions are just airy enough to be poetic but sparse enough to leave you grasping at wisps of nothing. Sure, the tone is serene, but without a vivid sense of place, it’s like meditating in a blank void.
Writing Style: 6/10
Gibran’s prose is undoubtedly beautiful—sometimes too beautiful. The poetic language is like rich chocolate cake: delightful in small doses, but after a while, you start begging for something a little less dense. Clarity takes a backseat to lyricism, and while that works for some, it often feels like the book is trying to sound profound rather than simply being profound.
Plot: 3/10
Plot? What plot? This is less of a book and more of a philosophical monologue dressed up as literature. If you’re expecting narrative twists, compelling character arcs, or, you know, something happening, prepare to be disappointed. The structure is as engaging as listening to a professor drone on about abstract concepts without ever tying them to anything concrete.
Intrigue: 3/10
I wanted to be hooked. I really did. But instead of being pulled in, I found myself checking how many pages were left—never a good sign. The philosophical musings have their moments, but without narrative momentum, it’s like wading through molasses. Deep thoughts are great, but they shouldn’t feel like a chore.
Logic/Relationships: 4/10
Almustafa and the townspeople have the kind of relationships that exist purely in the realm of allegory, which is a fancy way of saying “not remotely believable.” Their interactions feel like a scripted Q&A rather than genuine human connections. The ideas presented make sense within their abstract framework, but emotionally? Good luck forming any attachment.
Enjoyment: 3/10
Did I walk away appreciating the artistry? Sure. Did I enjoy reading it? Not really. It’s like a museum piece—something you acknowledge as impressive but don’t necessarily like. Some passages hit hard, but overall, it felt more like homework than an engaging read. 
The Ex Hex by Erin Sterling

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funny lighthearted relaxing medium-paced
  • Plot- or character-driven? A mix
  • Strong character development? It's complicated
  • Loveable characters? It's complicated
  • Diverse cast of characters? No
  • Flaws of characters a main focus? No

3.25

Characters: 6.5/10
Vivi and Rhys are charming enough, but they aren’t exactly redefining the romance genre. Vivi is your standard “reluctant witch with a grudge,” and Rhys is the flirty, accented love interest who exists to be hot and conveniently cursed. Their dynamic? Mostly fueled by banter, which is fun for a while until you realize they don’t have much else going for them. Gwyn, the quirky cousin, adds some energy, but she feels more like a walking trope than a fully developed character. Do I care about these characters? Sure. Would I remember their names a year from now? Doubt it.
Atmosphere/Setting: 7.5/10
The town of Graves Glen is full of witchy, autumnal charm, but it’s more aesthetic than substance. I loved the small-town, magical-Halloween vibes, but beyond the pumpkin decorations and cutesy occult shop, there’s not much actual world-building. The magic feels more like a gimmick than an integrated part of the setting, and the town itself never fully comes to life. It’s cozy, sure, but I wanted more—more lore, more detail, more than just “Halloweentown with hot witches.”
Writing Style: 7/10
Sterling’s writing is fast-paced and easy to digest, which works well for this type of book. The humor is solid, and the dialogue is snappy, but there’s so much quippy banter that it starts to feel like the characters are in a perpetual sitcom episode. The prose is functional but not particularly memorable, and while the book doesn’t drag, it doesn’t linger in any meaningful way either. The writing is good—but not great.
Plot: 6/10
Look, I love a ridiculous premise, but this one leans more toward “cute idea” than “compelling story.” Drunkenly cursing your ex and accidentally unleashing magical chaos on your town? Amazing concept. The execution? Predictable, low-stakes, and lacking any real emotional weight. The obstacles feel more like mild inconveniences than serious problems, and the resolution is so tidy it’s practically gift-wrapped. This is not the book to read if you want tension or surprises—because there aren’t any.
Intrigue: 7/10
I never considered abandoning the book, but I also wasn’t dying to see what happened next. The humor and romance kept me entertained, but the low-stakes conflict and lack of real surprises meant I could’ve put it down at any point and not felt particularly pressed to pick it back up. It’s a fun ride, but not one I’d buy a ticket for twice.
Logic/Relationships: 6/10
The magic system in this book is about as consistent as my WiFi signal on a stormy night. Spells just kinda…happen. Sometimes they work, sometimes they don’t, and the rules? Who needs those! It feels like magic exists purely to advance the plot when convenient, not as a structured element of this world. As for the romance, it’s cute but shallow. Rhys and Vivi are hot for each other, but do they have depth? Do they grow? Do they have anything resembling actual emotional stakes? Ehh. It’s more of a “we’re attracted to each other so let’s roll with it” situation.
Enjoyment: 7/10
Despite all my complaints, I did have fun. This book is like a Halloween rom-com movie on Netflix—you know exactly what you’re getting, and as long as you don’t expect more, you’ll probably enjoy it. It’s light, fast-paced, and full of amusing chaos. Would I recommend it? Yes, but only if you’re in the mood for something fluffy. It’s a fun seasonal read, but it won’t be making any “best of the year” lists.
Final Thoughts: 6.5/10
If you’re looking for a cozy, magical rom-com with minimal plot tension and lots of snark, this is a great pick. If you want depth, rich world-building, or emotional complexity, keep moving. This book is enjoyable for what it is, but it never reaches beyond being a cute story with a cute romance and a cute setting. Fun? Absolutely. Exceptional? Not even close. 

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Mudflowers by Aley Waterman

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challenging emotional reflective sad slow-paced
  • Plot- or character-driven? Character
  • 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

3.0

Characters – 7/10
Sophie is the queen of self-inflicted existential crises, and while that can be engaging, it often feels like she’s spinning her wheels rather than developing as a character. She overanalyzes everything to death, which is relatable to a point—until it isn’t. Alex is the classic “sensitive, artistic best friend” who somehow remains more compelling than Sophie, while Maggie exists solely as a mysterious, indie-lit dream girl with little depth beyond Sophie’s obsession with her. Secondary characters like Lionel and Casey had potential, but they mostly served as props for Sophie’s endless internal monologue. They’re good characters, just not as “life-changing” as the book seems to think they are.
Atmosphere/Setting – 6/10
Ah, Toronto—home of bars, small apartments, and people who live off vibes alone. The setting could have been immersive, but instead, it reads like a string of mildly depressing Instagram captions. Yes, I get it: city life is lonely, bars are full of people pretending not to care, and love is elusive. But does it all have to feel this monotonous? Instead of capturing the vibrancy of a place, the book repeatedly emphasizes Sophie’s ennui, making the city feel smaller and duller than it should.
Writing Style – 6/10
Waterman’s prose is trying to be poetic, and sometimes, it succeeds. Other times, it reads like a Tumblr post from 2014. There’s a lot of beautifully crafted melancholy here, but it’s buried under layer upon layer of navel-gazing. The book prioritizes aesthetic over clarity, which would be fine if it didn’t drag the pacing down. Sentences frequently stretch out into the literary equivalent of someone staring into the distance while rain falls on a city window. It’s moody, sure, but not always in a good way.
Plot – 5/10
Plot? What plot? This book operates on vibes alone, and while that’s not inherently a bad thing, it makes for an exhausting read when there’s no real progression. Sophie is stuck in a cycle of feeling things very deeply without actually doing much about them. The tension that should be there—her romantic confusion, her unresolved grief—never quite manifests in a satisfying way. Instead, the book just meanders, like someone wandering aimlessly through the city, unsure of whether they even want to reach their destination.
Intrigue – 6/10
Did I feel the need to keep reading? Kind of. The book has its moments of emotional honesty that hooked me in for short bursts, but then Sophie would start another internal monologue, and I’d find my attention slipping again. The interactions with Maggie provided some of the only real tension, but because Maggie is so thinly drawn, that intrigue started to fade too. This book is best read in short sittings—otherwise, you might start questioning your own life choices right alongside Sophie.
Logic/Relationships – 7/10
This is one of the book’s stronger aspects—Sophie and Alex’s relationship, in particular, felt complex and real, even if it could be frustrating. They have a believable history, and their dynamic is messy in the way that long-term friendships often are. That said, Sophie’s obsession with Maggie leans more toward infatuation than actual chemistry. The book seems to think it’s making some grand statement about love and longing, but mostly, it just highlights how much time Sophie spends fantasizing about someone she barely knows.
Enjoyment – 6/10
Look, I didn’t hate it. But I also didn’t love it. There were moments of brilliance that made me think, okay, maybe this is onto something, but they were surrounded by so much self-reflection that it became tedious. The writing is often trying too hard to be deep, and the lack of narrative momentum made it feel longer than it actually was. I’d only recommend this book to someone who enjoys slow, introspective, “feeling everything all at once” novels—otherwise, it’s a bit of a slog.
Final Verdict:
Mudflowers is the literary equivalent of staring wistfully out a rain-streaked window while clutching a cup of lukewarm tea. There are interesting ideas here, but they’re buried under a mountain of self-conscious introspection. The prose is stylish but often overwrought, the characters are compelling but underdeveloped, and the plot is… well, barely there. If you love deeply moody books where not much happens, you’ll probably vibe with this. Otherwise, it’s a decent read, but nothing groundbreaking. Overall Score: 6.1/10. 

Expand filter menu Content Warnings
The Maid by Nita Prose

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emotional funny hopeful mysterious 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 – 8/10
Molly Gray is certainly a character—I’ll give her that. She’s quirky, endearing, and refreshingly different from the cookie-cutter protagonists we usually get in mysteries. But does the book always know what to do with her? Not really. Sometimes she’s hyper-competent, other times she’s oblivious to things so obvious even a goldfish would pick up on them. The supporting cast is a mixed bag—Mr. Preston and Juan Manuel add some warmth, but Cheryl is one-dimensional, and the villains? Straight out of a made-for-TV movie. The novel really wants you to feel sorry for Molly, but sometimes it tries too hard, turning her into a plot device rather than a fully realized person.
Atmosphere/Setting – 8/10
The Regency Grand Hotel is fancy, alright. Between Molly’s obsessive descriptions of its gleaming brass railings and perfectly fluffed pillows, it’s clear she’s in love with the place. And sure, the setting is immersive, but is it fully utilized? Not quite. The hotel has a lot of potential for some serious intrigue—secrets hidden behind pristine facades and all that—but we don’t get to see much of that. Instead, we’re mostly stuck in Molly’s head as she waxes poetic about cleaning supplies. The outside world barely exists, which makes the book feel oddly contained, but hey, at least the hotel smells nice.
Writing Style – 8/10
The prose is smooth, clean, and easy to read—much like a hotel room freshly sanitized by Molly. The writing keeps things moving and has moments of genuine wit and charm. But then, there’s the repetition. Oh, the repetition. Molly’s “state of perfection” mantra gets old fast, and the book has a habit of over-explaining things, as if the reader can’t be trusted to put two and two together. Some dialogue feels stiff, especially when characters deliver lines like they’re reading off a script labeled Exposition Dump: Please Read Aloud. Still, the writing does its job, even if it doesn’t always trust the audience to do theirs.
Plot – 7.5/10
A murder mystery in a posh hotel sounds promising, right? Well, the setup is solid, but the execution wobbles. The first half is compelling, but as the story unfolds, the twists become a little too predictable. And the ending? Neat. A little too neat. Everything falls into place with an almost laughable convenience, like a crime novel wrapped up in a bow for a made-for-Netflix adaptation. There are some great moments of tension, but the book pulls its punches, never really going for the knockout.
Intrigue – 8.5/10
Despite its issues, The Maid kept me interested. Molly’s narration is entertaining, and the mystery unfolds at a steady pace. I wanted to see how things played out, even if I had a sneaking suspicion about most of the twists well before the reveals. That being said, there were moments where the book seemed to forget it was a mystery and got lost in its own admiration of Molly’s eccentricities. It held my attention, but I wouldn’t call it edge-of-your-seat reading.
Logic/Relationships – 7.5/10
This is where things start to unravel a bit. Molly’s intelligence and social awareness fluctuate wildly depending on what the plot needs. One moment, she’s figuring out complex social cues; the next, she’s falling for the most obvious manipulation imaginable. The relationships are mostly fine—Molly and Giselle have a nice dynamic, but Juan Manuel deserved more page time. And don’t even get me started on the police investigation. It’s so laughably incompetent that it makes you wonder if the detectives were hired straight off a reality show.
Enjoyment – 8.5/10
Flaws aside, I had a good time with this book. Molly’s voice kept things engaging, and even when the plot took convenient shortcuts, it was still fun watching everything unfold. Would I recommend it? Sure, especially if you like character-driven mysteries with a unique perspective. Would I call it a masterpiece? Not a chance. But it’s a solid, entertaining read that offers something a little different from your standard whodunit.
Final Verdict: 8/10
The Maid is a charming and engaging mystery with a memorable protagonist and a sleek, polished setting. The writing is smooth, the plot is serviceable, and the intrigue is enough to keep the pages turning. But it’s not without its faults—predictable twists, occasionally one-note characters, and a tendency to over-explain hold it back from true greatness. It’s a great read, just not a flawless one. 

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