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orionmerlin's reviews
694 reviews
The House at the Edge of Magic by Amy Sparkes
adventurous
funny
hopeful
lighthearted
mysterious
fast-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? It's complicated
3.25
Characters – 7/10
The characters are fun, sure, but they’re also walking, talking gimmicks. Nine is your classic “scrappy orphan with a heart of gold” (we’ve seen this before), Flabberghast is a wizard who exists to be weird, Eric is a troll in an apron (because quirky), and Dr. Spoon is, well…a spoon. They’re amusing, but they don’t have much depth beyond their one-note personalities. Do they have compelling emotional arcs? Not really. Do they at least make the story entertaining? Yes, but in the same way a circus act does—fun to watch, but not particularly meaningful.
Atmosphere/Setting – 7/10
The house is chaotic in a fun way, but it feels like a grab bag of magical randomness rather than a well-crafted world. Want a talking spoon? Done. A house that reshapes itself at will? You got it. A wizard who can’t drink tea because reasons? Sure, why not. Outside of the house, though, the world feels a little empty—Nine’s dreary, Dickensian existence is basically just a grayscale filter slapped on the setting to make the house seem more colorful by comparison. Immersive? Kinda. Well-developed? Not so much.
Writing Style – 6/10
The prose is competent, but it tries way too hard to be quirky. Every page is laced with forced whimsy, as if the book is constantly nudging me in the ribs and saying, “See? Isn’t this wacky?” Yes, it’s light and breezy, but that comes at the cost of emotional weight. The humor also interrupts the pacing sometimes, making it hard to take any moment of genuine tension seriously. It’s enjoyable in a Saturday morning cartoon kind of way, but if you’re looking for a book that trusts you to absorb its world without smothering you in silliness, this ain't it.
Plot – 6/10
The plot is just kind of there. It’s functional, predictable, and moves along at a decent clip, but there’s not a lot of actual tension. The whole “break the curse” setup is fine, but the way it plays out is where the cracks show. Problems arise, they’re solved almost immediately, and then we move on. The stakes never feel particularly high because there’s always a convenient way out. The story isn’t bad—it’s just safe, sticking closely to the "middle-grade fantasy adventure" playbook with little deviation.
Intrigue – 7/10
Did I want to keep reading? Mostly, yes. The humor and fast pacing kept things moving, but let’s be real: I wasn’t exactly on the edge of my seat. There were no shocking twists, no Oh my god, I have to know what happens next moments—just a steady stream of mild amusement. I was engaged enough to finish, but I didn’t feel a burning need to see how it all ended. It’s like binge-watching a mid-tier Netflix show—entertaining while you’re in it, but not something you’ll rave about afterward.
Logic/Relationships – 5/10
Ah, the wonderful world of magic with no rules! The curse does whatever the plot needs it to do, the relationships develop at lightning speed with zero buildup, and the magic system is…well, there isn’t one. Things just happen because the book says they do. Nine’s interactions with the house’s residents feel rushed—I barely had time to process one dynamic before she was already bonding with someone else. And let’s not even get into the random nature of the house’s magic, which doesn’t follow any internal logic and basically just exists for comic effect.
Enjoyment – 7/10
Look, despite all my complaints, I still had fun. The book is silly, lighthearted, and easy to read. It’s not going to blow your mind, but if you’re in the mood for something playfully chaotic, it delivers. Would I recommend it? Sure, but only to people who love whimsical nonsense for the sake of whimsical nonsense. If you prefer tightly woven plots, deep character arcs, or world-building that follows any logical structure, this will drive you insane.
Final Verdict: 6.5/10
The House at the Edge of Magic is a fun, chaotic, low-stakes fantasy adventure that thrives on quirkiness but lacks depth. The writing is solid, the characters are entertaining, and the world is brimming with weird, magical hijinks. But. The plot is predictable, the emotional beats feel rushed, and the humor sometimes overshadows the story. Will you have fun? Probably. Will you remember much of it a month from now? Probably not.
Content Warnings
Moderate: Child abuse, Violence, and Grief
Minor: Confinement, Emotional abuse, Physical abuse, Abandonment, and Classism
While the book contains some dark themes (poverty, abandonment, emotional manipulation), they are handled lightly and softened by humor and whimsy. Nothing is graphically described, and the tone remains playful and hopeful overall. The story is suitable for middle-grade readers, though sensitive children might notice the underlying themes of neglect and survival.
In the Lives of Puppets by TJ Klune
adventurous
emotional
funny
hopeful
reflective
sad
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
4.0
Characters: 9/10
If there’s one thing Klune gets right, it’s characters. Vic? Relatable and human. Rambo and Nurse Ratched? Absolute scene-stealers. Hap? Surprisingly deep for someone who could’ve just been the "cool, broody type." Every single character has enough personality to actually feel like a real person (or sentient machine). They bicker, they joke, they genuinely care for each other—basically, they have more emotional depth than half the people I know in real life. If I can describe each one in detail without struggling, that means they’re doing something right.
Atmosphere/Setting: 8/10
Whimsical dystopia? Sure, why not. Klune has a knack for creating environments that feel both cozy and vaguely ominous, like a fairy tale you can’t quite trust. The contrast between the peaceful forest and the colder, industrial landscapes works well. That said, sometimes the descriptions got a little too abstract, like trying to recall a dream where everything made sense but also… didn’t. Still, it’s a world I’d be happy to visit (as long as I got a cute robot sidekick).
Writing Style: 8/10
Klune’s prose is like a warm hug with a side of sass. It’s sharp, funny, and heartfelt, and the dialogue? Chef’s kiss. Each character has a distinct voice, which makes interactions pop off the page. The flow is generally great, though there were a few moments where it felt like he was trying just a bit too hard. Not quite as effortless as some of his other works, but still leagues ahead of most cookie-cutter writing out there. I’d happily read whatever he writes next, even if it’s just a grocery list.
Plot: 7.5/10
Think Pinocchio meets The House in the Cerulean Sea, with enough originality to keep it from feeling like a direct copy-paste job. The themes—identity, purpose, love—are well done, and the emotional beats land. However, the pacing takes a few detours into “wait, why are we still here?” territory. Some sections drag, which makes you appreciate the heartfelt or exciting moments even more when they finally hit. A little tightening up, and this could’ve been a knockout.
Intrigue: 7.5/10
The story kept me hooked, but I wasn’t exactly glued to the page. I cared about the characters and their journey, but there were definitely moments where the momentum dipped. Thankfully, Klune’s humor and emotional depth pulled me back in before I wandered off to check my phone. Consistently engaging, if not always unputdownable.
Logic/Relationships: 9/10
This book nails relationships. Found-family vibes? Off the charts. The bonds between characters feel real, and the emotional connections drive the story in a way that doesn’t feel forced or saccharine. The world’s internal logic holds up well, too—no weird inconsistencies that pull you out of the immersion. Klune gives enough detail to keep things grounded without making me feel like I need a textbook to understand the rules. Solid work.
Enjoyment: 8/10
I laughed, I teared up, I had a good time. Is it perfect? No. Did I still walk away feeling warm and satisfied, like I just finished a great comfort meal? Absolutely. The minor pacing issues kept it from being an all-time favorite, but it still left an impression. Klune’s signature mix of humor, heart, and weirdly lovable characters works its magic once again.
Light by Michael Grant
dark
emotional
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
3.5
Characters: 7/10
Michael Grant can write a damn good character, but not everyone gets to stay in the spotlight. Sam and Astrid are still compelling, but Astrid’s sudden transformation into a ruthless strategist felt like it came out of nowhere—was there a deleted training montage where she became morally ambiguous? Diana spends most of the book helplessly watching Gaia’s reign of terror, which is frustrating when we know she’s capable of so much more. And speaking of Gaia… look, I get it, she’s the ultimate nightmare child, but she’s more of a plot device than a character. She exists to destroy things and be creepy, which works at first but gets old fast. Meanwhile, side characters like Quinn are given the "good luck in your future endeavors" treatment and fade into irrelevance.
Atmosphere/Setting: 8/10
The FAYZ is as grim and horrifying as ever, and the whole “we can see out, but they can’t hear us” situation is a cool, eerie touch. However, the sheer relentlessness of the darkness means the horror loses some of its punch. When everyone is starving, dying, or mutating into a nightmare, the moments that are supposed to be extra horrifying don’t always land. I wish Grant had spent more time on the psychological toll of being trapped under the world’s creepiest snow globe rather than throwing another bucket of blood on us every five pages.
Writing Style: 7/10
Grant’s writing is sharp, fast, and unpretentious, which is great for keeping up the energy. Unfortunately, it also means that some key moments flash by so quickly that they barely register. When characters die or make big sacrifices, it’s like “Welp, that happened. NEXT.” The dialogue is solid, though some characters start to blur together in larger scenes. Also, the book leans really hard on shock value—at some point, graphic body horror just stops being shocking and starts feeling like a gross-out contest.
Plot: 7/10
The story moves at breakneck speed, which is both its strength and its biggest flaw. Sure, you’re never bored, but sometimes the pacing is so rapid that it skips over emotional impact. Gaia’s rampage, while terrifying, feels repetitive after a while. Did I expect anything but carnage? No. But the constant escalation starts to feel predictable—how many more ways can people be horrifically murdered before it loses its edge? The climax is solid, but it doesn’t quite stick the emotional landing as well as I wanted.
Intrigue: 8/10
Grant knows how to keep you turning pages. Even when I was rolling my eyes at yet another over-the-top death scene, I still needed to know what happened next. However, the book relies so much on constant action that it’s exhausting. The most intriguing parts weren’t even the giant fights—they were the subtle tensions, like Sam’s existential dread and the outside world staring in judgment. But since this is Light, we don’t get much time for subtlety before someone is getting their arm ripped off and served as a snack.
Logic/Relationships: 6/10
Gaia’s powers are all over the place. She’s basically an omnipotent murder machine except when the plot needs her not to be. The way she pulls a random dude into the FAYZ? Cool moment. Makes no sense. The world’s rules around abilities seem flexible at best, which is frustrating after five books of mostly consistent world-building. As for relationships, some were great (Sam and Astrid’s desperate devotion was compelling), but others were either rushed (Caine’s redemption arc) or neglected (Brianna and Dekka deserved more time). In short: the emotional beats weren’t bad, but they weren’t given enough room to breathe.
Enjoyment: 7/10
I had fun with Light, but I didn’t love it. It’s like a rollercoaster that’s just nonstop loops—you stop appreciating the thrill because your brain is spinning too fast. There are standout moments, and the sheer madness of it is undeniably entertaining, but some of the choices felt more like shock for the sake of shock than meaningful storytelling. It’s a decent finale, but it doesn’t quite live up to the emotional highs of earlier books.
Final Score: 7.1/10
Light is an action-packed, bloody conclusion that delivers on spectacle but stumbles when it comes to emotional depth. If you’ve been here since Gone, you’ll appreciate the madness, but don’t expect every thread to be tied up neatly. It’s thrilling, messy, and occasionally exhausting—much like the series itself.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Body horror, Gore, Torture, Violence, Blood, Cannibalism, and Murder
Moderate: Animal death, Bullying, Child abuse, Child death, Confinement, Cursing, Death, Emotional abuse, Gun violence, Mental illness, Misogyny, Physical abuse, Self harm, Sexual violence, Toxic relationship, Vomit, Kidnapping, Grief, Death of parent, Fire/Fire injury, Toxic friendship, Abandonment, Alcohol, Sexual harassment, and Injury/Injury detail
Minor: Addiction, Infidelity, Panic attacks/disorders, Racism, Sexism, Suicidal thoughts, Medical trauma, Pregnancy, Gaslighting, War, and Classism
Light is extremely violent and intense, even by the standards of the Gone series.
The book contains graphic and disturbing body horror that may not be suitable for sensitive readers.
Many moral dilemmas and dark psychological themes are explored, including the nature of power, survival, and guilt.
While some relationships are loving and supportive, others are deeply toxic and manipulative.
If you’re looking for a hopeful or uplifting read, this is not it—this book is grim, brutal, and often horrifying.
Fear by Michael Grant
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? It's complicated
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
3.5
Characters – 7/10
The characters in Fear were like that one band you keep listening to even though all their albums sound the same. I enjoyed them, sure, but at this point, they’re just playing the hits. Sam is still weighed down by leadership angst, Astrid is still brooding, and Caine is still acting like he’s auditioning for Game of Thrones. Diana’s pregnancy arc had potential, but instead of exploring the weirdness of carrying a superpowered baby, it mostly consisted of her worrying about turning into her deadbeat boyfriend. Penny had all the depth of a horror movie villain whose entire personality is torture is fun. Quinn’s glow-up into an actual competent human was refreshing, but most of the secondary characters were just there to take up space and occasionally die in horrifying ways.
Atmosphere/Setting – 9/10
If there’s one thing Michael Grant nails, it’s making the FAYZ an absolute nightmare to live in. The creeping darkness turning everything into a hellscape? Fantastic. The suffocating tension of an entire world literally dimming out of existence? Brilliant. The scenes underground with Drake and the gaiaphage? Okay, those could have been cut in half, because they felt like reading the same two pages on repeat. The horror vibes were cranked to eleven, and the way the setting influenced the characters' dwindling sanity was one of the strongest aspects of the book. That being said, it did get a bit too comfortable in the realm of gore-for-gore’s-sake. At some point, I stopped feeling disturbed and started rolling my eyes like, “Oh, another horrific death? Sure, why not.”
Writing Style – 6/10
Grant’s prose is like a caffeine-fueled teenager telling you a really intense story at a party—fast-paced, engaging, but not exactly poetic. It gets the job done, but the dialogue had its fair share of cringe moments, especially when characters started quipping like they were in a Marvel movie despite the whole world-ending darkness situation. And then there’s the violence. Listen, I appreciate a good, gruesome moment, but Fear is so overloaded with body horror that it stops being shocking and just starts feeling like an edgy kid doodling skulls in the margins of his notebook. Sometimes less is more, and this book never got the memo.
Plot – 7/10
The overarching premise was solid—the barrier is changing, the darkness is spreading, and everything is falling apart. But was it paced well? Not exactly. A lot of this book felt like setup for Light, which means we spent way too much time circling the same problems without making much progress. Drake and the gaiaphage were stuck in an eternal loop of “I want power” and “Find me Nemesis,” and if I never have to read another scene of Drake writhing in pain for no reason, it’ll be too soon. Astrid’s survival storyline had potential, but it mostly boiled down to her feeling guilty and smoking weed in the woods. Penny’s sadistic games with Cigar? Completely unnecessary. There were a few great, high-stakes moments, but too much of the book felt like treading water.
Intrigue – 8/10
Despite all my complaints, I did want to keep reading. There’s something about this series that makes it impossible to put down, even when it’s frustrating. The slow burn of the darkness consuming the FAYZ was chilling, and there were just enough shocking moments to keep me hooked. That said, I wasn’t devouring this book the way I did with Gone or Hunger. Some chapters were gripping, but others dragged—especially when we spent too much time underground with the world’s most boring evil entity. I wanted more progression, more twists, and a little less “look how creepy this is” filler.
Logic/Relationships – 6/10
For a book that loves to get into the gritty details of starvation, mutations, and murder, Fear sure took some liberties with logic. How does a fetus gain superpowers in utero? No idea. How do some characters survive absolutely insane injuries while others drop dead instantly? Don’t ask. Why does Caine keep getting away with everything despite being the worst? Plot armor. The relationships also felt a bit stagnant—Sam and Astrid were still in a weird will-they-won’t-they limbo despite everything they’ve been through. Diana and Caine’s toxic mess of a relationship continued to be a waste of time. Penny was just sadistic for the sake of it, without any deeper layers. The only relationship that really evolved was Quinn’s with the fishing crew, which was surprisingly wholesome in a book filled with nightmare fuel.
Enjoyment – 7/10
Did I enjoy Fear? Yes. Did I love it? No. It was a solid read, but it relied too much on recycled conflicts, unnecessary violence, and cheap shock value instead of pushing the story forward in meaningful ways. The atmosphere was top-tier, the concept was intriguing, but it felt like a bridge book—one that exists mostly to set up the finale rather than stand on its own. I had fun, but I also found myself rolling my eyes more than once.
Final Score: 7/10
Fear was good, but it wasn’t great. The setting and tension carried it, but the excessive violence, uneven pacing, and lack of real character growth held it back. It was entertaining, but it felt more like a holding pattern for Light than a fully satisfying installment. I’ll finish the series, but I’m hoping the finale gives me more substance and less look at how messed up this world is.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Body horror, Gore, Torture, Violence, and Murder
Moderate: Bullying, Child death, Confinement, Emotional abuse, Gun violence, Mental illness, Toxic relationship, Blood, Pregnancy, and Injury/Injury detail
Minor: Cursing, Panic attacks/disorders, Self harm, Sexism, Grief, and Alcohol
This book leans heavily into horror elements, particularly in its use of body horror, psychological torment, and extreme violence.
The series as a whole deals with themes of power, survival, morality, and the breakdown of society, often in disturbing ways.
Penny’s character and her methods of psychological torture are particularly unsettling—this book does not shy away from cruelty and sadism.
While pregnancy is a significant plot point, it’s not depicted in a positive or nurturing way; instead, it leans into fear, body autonomy issues, and existential dread.
Plague by Michael Grant
dark
emotional
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? Yes
4.0
Characters – 8/10
This book is packed with some seriously memorable characters. Sam, Astrid, Caine, and Diana continue to steal the show, and I actually cared about what happened to them (which is more than I can say for a lot of YA casts). Drake is still a raging psychopath, which is fantastic in the most horrifying way. The secondary characters added some depth, though let’s be real—there were so many of them that a few felt more like placeholders than actual people. I could describe their personalities to a friend, but I might need a flowchart to keep track of them all.
This book is packed with some seriously memorable characters. Sam, Astrid, Caine, and Diana continue to steal the show, and I actually cared about what happened to them (which is more than I can say for a lot of YA casts). Drake is still a raging psychopath, which is fantastic in the most horrifying way. The secondary characters added some depth, though let’s be real—there were so many of them that a few felt more like placeholders than actual people. I could describe their personalities to a friend, but I might need a flowchart to keep track of them all.
Atmosphere/Setting – 9/10
Welcome back to the nightmare that is the FAYZ, where every day is a new flavor of how much worse can things possibly get? Spoiler: A lot worse. The suffocating isolation, the sheer desperation, the absolutely disgusting plague elements—I felt all of it. The new body horror additions were especially vivid, to the point where I genuinely questioned whether I was about to lose my lunch. The only reason I’m not giving this a 10 is because I don’t want to encourage whatever twisted inspiration Grant was working with here.
Welcome back to the nightmare that is the FAYZ, where every day is a new flavor of how much worse can things possibly get? Spoiler: A lot worse. The suffocating isolation, the sheer desperation, the absolutely disgusting plague elements—I felt all of it. The new body horror additions were especially vivid, to the point where I genuinely questioned whether I was about to lose my lunch. The only reason I’m not giving this a 10 is because I don’t want to encourage whatever twisted inspiration Grant was working with here.
Writing Style – 7/10
Grant’s writing is like a high-speed car chase—fast, exciting, and just chaotic enough to make you wonder if the driver is about to crash. His prose is sharp and cinematic, which works most of the time. However, the sheer number of POV jumps made my head spin, and occasionally I just wanted a little more introspection. But let’s be honest, with this level of non-stop trauma, who even has time for deep thoughts?
Grant’s writing is like a high-speed car chase—fast, exciting, and just chaotic enough to make you wonder if the driver is about to crash. His prose is sharp and cinematic, which works most of the time. However, the sheer number of POV jumps made my head spin, and occasionally I just wanted a little more introspection. But let’s be honest, with this level of non-stop trauma, who even has time for deep thoughts?
Plot – 8/10
The pacing? Breakneck. The stakes? Through the roof. The amount of time I had to breathe between horrible things happening? Basically zero. The coughing-up-your-own-lungs plague was one of the most grotesquely fascinating things I’ve read in YA, and I was hooked. That said, certain parts wrapped up a little too neatly, and some plotlines felt like they could have used a bit more development. Still, I was never bored—mostly because I was too busy wondering who was about to die next.
The pacing? Breakneck. The stakes? Through the roof. The amount of time I had to breathe between horrible things happening? Basically zero. The coughing-up-your-own-lungs plague was one of the most grotesquely fascinating things I’ve read in YA, and I was hooked. That said, certain parts wrapped up a little too neatly, and some plotlines felt like they could have used a bit more development. Still, I was never bored—mostly because I was too busy wondering who was about to die next.
Intrigue – 9/10
I picked this book up and forgot basic human needs like eating and sleeping. It had me so on edge that I was ready to start stockpiling supplies in case Grant’s version of reality somehow leaked into my own. The unpredictability of the FAYZ meant that I was always bracing myself for the next horrifying twist, and Plague delivered. The only reason it’s not a perfect 10 is because sometimes I needed a break, and the book did not care.
I picked this book up and forgot basic human needs like eating and sleeping. It had me so on edge that I was ready to start stockpiling supplies in case Grant’s version of reality somehow leaked into my own. The unpredictability of the FAYZ meant that I was always bracing myself for the next horrifying twist, and Plague delivered. The only reason it’s not a perfect 10 is because sometimes I needed a break, and the book did not care.
Logic/Relationships – 7/10
For the most part, character motivations made sense—except when they didn’t. Sam and Astrid’s relationship felt frustratingly real (which is both a compliment and a complaint). Caine and Diana’s dynamic continued to be an absolute trainwreck, but an entertaining one. Some of the newer side characters felt more like filler than actual people, and the FAYZ’s rules, while generally solid, occasionally bent in ways that felt suspiciously convenient. But hey, consistency is overrated when you’re busy trying not to die, right?
For the most part, character motivations made sense—except when they didn’t. Sam and Astrid’s relationship felt frustratingly real (which is both a compliment and a complaint). Caine and Diana’s dynamic continued to be an absolute trainwreck, but an entertaining one. Some of the newer side characters felt more like filler than actual people, and the FAYZ’s rules, while generally solid, occasionally bent in ways that felt suspiciously convenient. But hey, consistency is overrated when you’re busy trying not to die, right?
Enjoyment – 8/10
Did I enjoy this book? Well, if you consider nonstop anxiety, mild nausea, and a general sense of impending doom “enjoyment,” then yes, I had a fantastic time. It’s a wild ride from start to finish, and while I have some complaints, they’re the kind of complaints that come from being too invested. Would I recommend it? Absolutely—but only to people with strong stomachs and a tolerance for relentless suffering.
Did I enjoy this book? Well, if you consider nonstop anxiety, mild nausea, and a general sense of impending doom “enjoyment,” then yes, I had a fantastic time. It’s a wild ride from start to finish, and while I have some complaints, they’re the kind of complaints that come from being too invested. Would I recommend it? Absolutely—but only to people with strong stomachs and a tolerance for relentless suffering.
Final Score: 8/10
Plague is a gripping, intense, and deeply unsettling addition to the Gone series. It kept me hooked, made me gag, and had me questioning my life choices—all signs of a solid read. Some pacing and character issues held it back from perfection, but it’s still one of the most horrifyingly entertaining books I’ve read in a while.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Body horror, Gore, Violence, Cannibalism, and Murder
Moderate: Addiction, Alcoholism, Animal death, Bullying, Child death, Confinement, Emotional abuse, Mental illness, Self harm, Sexism, Torture, Grief, Abandonment, Injury/Injury detail, and Pandemic/Epidemic
Minor: Cursing, Eating disorder, Gun violence, Misogyny, Suicidal thoughts, Toxic relationship, Medical content, Suicide attempt, Death of parent, Pregnancy, and Fire/Fire injury
The book is extremely dark and intense, with horrific body mutations and violent deaths being central to the plot.
While it’s classified as YA, the graphic horror elements push the boundaries of the genre.
Themes of power, control, and survival ethics are explored, making it more disturbing than a typical dystopian story.
If you have a sensitivity to medical trauma or disease, this book could be particularly unsettling.
Lies by Michael Grant
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? It's complicated
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.0
Characters: 8/10
The characters are memorable enough, I suppose, if you can handle Sam constantly brooding about being the "reluctant hero" (eye roll). I mean, sure, Caine and Astrid have depth, but there's only so much angst one can stomach. Secondary characters like Orsay and Zil definitely add some intrigue to the mix, but let's be real: some of these kids felt more like background noise than crucial players. Still, I actually cared about what happened to them, which is more than I can say for some books. So... decent job, I guess.
Atmosphere/Setting: 9/10
Perdido Beach—also known as the apocalyptic nightmare where nothing works and everything is slowly decaying—is pretty well realized. Grant knows how to set the stage for a tense, hopeless world, and I could practically feel the grime of the FAYZ wall on my skin. It’s dark, grimy, and absolutely reeks of dread. The setting itself could be a character, and it does the job of keeping you uncomfortable. However, if you want to add more to your list of things that are wrong with this world, the lack of anything resembling hope definitely shines through. Just don't expect it to be a warm and fuzzy escape.
Writing Style: 7/10
Grant’s writing is fine if you’re into blunt, straightforward prose with occasional bouts of forced humor. Dialogue can be fun, but it also sometimes feels like the author was trying a little too hard to make everything sound cool. And let’s not even start on the repetitive phrases. It’s not the most elegant writing out there, but it does the job of propelling the story forward with minimal distractions. If you want poetic beauty, try a different book. If you want a thriller with a good beat, then this will work for you.
Plot: 8/10
The plot is fine for the most part. It keeps things moving with just enough twists to keep you interested, even if some of the slow moments feel like dragging through wet cement. I didn’t expect to be completely floored by a mind-blowing twist, but the action was solid. The supernatural elements, like Orsay’s creepy "prophetess" shtick, kept me intrigued, but it never quite reached the level of, "Wow, that’s the most original thing ever." Still, it's a good, solid ride.
Intrigue: 9/10
I was hooked. The constant tension of “What fresh disaster will Sam have to deal with next?” had me eager to turn pages. Between the clashing factions, dangerous powers, and, oh yeah, the creepy kids doing creepy things, I honestly couldn't stop reading. It was the perfect amount of addicting. If you’re looking for a book you can’t put down, this one will certainly keep you on the hook.
Logic/Relationships: 7/10
Characters are mostly consistent with their motivations, but there are some questionable moments where I found myself thinking, “Really? That’s the decision you’re going to make right now?” The rules of the world are generally fine, but some plot holes are big enough to drive a tank through. Relationships are mostly believable—Sam and Astrid have a decent dynamic, and Caine’s troubled loyalty makes sense—but there’s some forced conflict in the plot that feels like it was just there to stir things up. Also, let’s not forget that some characters' logic feels a little... stretched. No big deal, but it’s not flawless either.
Enjoyment: 8/10
I had a pretty good time. There are definitely some flaws, but it’s easy to get wrapped up in the chaos of it all. I was entertained, invested, and eager to keep going. It’s not going to change your life or make you rethink everything you know about dystopias, but it does what it sets out to do—keep you turning pages. If you’re into this genre, it’s a solid recommendation. Would I re-read it? Sure. Would I shout from the rooftops that it’s the greatest thing ever? Nah.
Final Verdict: 8/10
Lies is a solid read, though it has its fair share of tropes, pacing issues, and slightly over-the-top moments. It doesn’t break the mold, but it certainly keeps you interested, and for that, it deserves a solid 8. You won’t regret reading it if you’re a fan of gritty, dystopian adventures, but don’t expect it to rock your world.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Torture, Violence, Blood, Cannibalism, and Murder
Moderate: Bullying, Child abuse, Emotional abuse, Mental illness, Panic attacks/disorders, Physical abuse, Self harm, Kidnapping, and Grief
Minor: Cursing, Gun violence, Misogyny, Racism, Sexism, Suicidal thoughts, Vomit, Fire/Fire injury, Alcohol, and Classism
The book heavily explores prejudice, power struggles, and survival ethics under extreme conditions.
There are disturbing themes regarding how kids treat each other when left without adults, including cult-like behavior and coercion.
If you’re sensitive to themes of hopelessness and fear, this book can be intense at times.
Psychological manipulation and mind control are recurring elements, making some sections emotionally unsettling.
Under the Whispering Door by TJ Klune
emotional
funny
hopeful
inspiring
reflective
sad
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.5
Characters: 9.5/10
Look, if you don’t like these characters, you might actually be heartless. Wallace Price starts off as a walking red flag, but watching him morph into an actual decent human (posthumously, of course) is weirdly satisfying. Hugo is a saint, Mei is a delightful menace, and Nelson is the grandpa we all wish we had. They’re not just warm bodies filling space; they matter, and you actually care what happens to them. Wild concept, right?
Look, if you don’t like these characters, you might actually be heartless. Wallace Price starts off as a walking red flag, but watching him morph into an actual decent human (posthumously, of course) is weirdly satisfying. Hugo is a saint, Mei is a delightful menace, and Nelson is the grandpa we all wish we had. They’re not just warm bodies filling space; they matter, and you actually care what happens to them. Wild concept, right?
Atmosphere/Setting: 9/10
A tea shop for dead people? Somehow, Klune makes this feel like the coziest, most profound place ever. It’s ethereal, it’s intimate, it’s the kind of setting you wish existed just so you could go sit in it and contemplate life (or death, in this case). Sure, some corners of this world could have used a little more exploration, but as it stands, it’s beautifully immersive.
A tea shop for dead people? Somehow, Klune makes this feel like the coziest, most profound place ever. It’s ethereal, it’s intimate, it’s the kind of setting you wish existed just so you could go sit in it and contemplate life (or death, in this case). Sure, some corners of this world could have used a little more exploration, but as it stands, it’s beautifully immersive.
Writing Style: 9/10
Klune’s writing is that perfect mix of heartfelt and humorous—like a warm hug but with occasional existential dread. It’s emotional without being manipulative, witty without trying too hard, and just works. The dialogue actually sounds like people talking (shocking, I know), and the prose is smooth enough that you don’t even notice you’ve been emotionally wrecked until it’s too late.
Klune’s writing is that perfect mix of heartfelt and humorous—like a warm hug but with occasional existential dread. It’s emotional without being manipulative, witty without trying too hard, and just works. The dialogue actually sounds like people talking (shocking, I know), and the prose is smooth enough that you don’t even notice you’ve been emotionally wrecked until it’s too late.
Plot: 8.5/10
Watching Wallace go from insufferable to actually bearable (and eventually likable!) is the emotional arc I didn’t know I needed. The exploration of grief, death, and what comes after is handled with surprising levity without losing its weight. Sure, the middle drags a bit, but the overall emotional punch makes up for it. Just don’t expect a thrill ride—it’s more of a slow burn that sneaks up on you with feelings.
Watching Wallace go from insufferable to actually bearable (and eventually likable!) is the emotional arc I didn’t know I needed. The exploration of grief, death, and what comes after is handled with surprising levity without losing its weight. Sure, the middle drags a bit, but the overall emotional punch makes up for it. Just don’t expect a thrill ride—it’s more of a slow burn that sneaks up on you with feelings.
Intrigue: 9/10
Even in the slower sections, this book never lost my interest. I needed to see Wallace figure himself out, and the relationships kept me invested. There aren’t any massive plot twists, but that’s not the point—this is all about the journey, and Klune makes you care about every step.
Even in the slower sections, this book never lost my interest. I needed to see Wallace figure himself out, and the relationships kept me invested. There aren’t any massive plot twists, but that’s not the point—this is all about the journey, and Klune makes you care about every step.
Logic/Relationships: 9/10
If there’s one thing Klune nails, it’s relationships. The found family vibes? Immaculate. The chemistry between Wallace and Hugo? Beautifully done. The afterlife rules? Just structured enough to work without bogging down the story in unnecessary lore dumps. Nothing feels forced, and the emotional payoffs land exactly where they should.
If there’s one thing Klune nails, it’s relationships. The found family vibes? Immaculate. The chemistry between Wallace and Hugo? Beautifully done. The afterlife rules? Just structured enough to work without bogging down the story in unnecessary lore dumps. Nothing feels forced, and the emotional payoffs land exactly where they should.
Enjoyment: 9/10
This book is like comfort food with an existential crisis baked in. It’s heartfelt, it’s funny, it makes you think about life in a way that doesn’t feel like a chore. Even with some pacing hiccups, it left me feeling something, which is more than I can say for half the books I read. So yeah, I’d absolutely recommend it—just be prepared for the emotional damage.
This book is like comfort food with an existential crisis baked in. It’s heartfelt, it’s funny, it makes you think about life in a way that doesn’t feel like a chore. Even with some pacing hiccups, it left me feeling something, which is more than I can say for half the books I read. So yeah, I’d absolutely recommend it—just be prepared for the emotional damage.
Hunger by Michael Grant
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? It's complicated
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
3.75
Characters – 7.5/10
Some characters shine, others flop, and a few exist just to fill space. Sam Temple still carries the "reluctant leader" badge like it’s the only personality trait he’s got, and his indecision gets old fast. Caine spends most of the book sidelined, which is a shame because he was a solid villain in Gone. Diana is still the queen of sarcasm, and honestly, she deserves a better book. Astrid? She continues her reign as “smart girl who mostly exists for Sam’s emotional turmoil.” New characters like Duck and Orsay have intriguing arcs but aren’t given enough page time to make a real impact. Drake, meanwhile, has crossed into cartoon villainy—twirling an imaginary mustache while cracking his murderous whip-hand. Some solid moments, but also a lot of wasted potential.
Atmosphere/Setting – 8.5/10
The FAYZ is still an absolute hellhole, and Grant makes sure you feel it. Starvation, decay, and terrifying mutant nightmares? Check, check, and check. The setting does its job, though sometimes Grant really hammers home the hunger thing so hard it feels like he's afraid you’ll forget what the book is about. The worm scene? Utter nightmare fuel. The power plant and Coates Academy are eerie, but they could have been used to greater effect. The constant bleakness works, but some variety in tone would have made it more effective rather than just emotionally exhausting.
Writing Style – 7/10
Grant’s writing is efficient, if not exactly elegant. The short, choppy sentences work for the action, but when he jumps from character to character like a kid hyped up on sugar, it gets exhausting. The dialogue varies wildly—sometimes it’s snappy and real, other times it reads like an early-2000s CW drama. There’s a lot of telling rather than showing, especially when it comes to emotions, which dulls some of the impact. The humor is hit or miss—occasionally clever, but sometimes painfully forced. The sheer amount of POV switching makes it hard to emotionally connect, but at least things move at a good pace.
Plot – 7/10
This book could have been at least 50 pages shorter if Grant had cut down on the endless cycle of “food is running out, Sam struggles, Caine monologues, things get worse.” The pacing swings wildly—some parts zip by, others feel like they’re running on a treadmill. The food crisis is a great central conflict, but it gets repetitive fast. The worm horror was a standout moment, but Caine’s whole nuclear power plant scheme feels like something he should have thought of way sooner. The Gaiaphage remains intriguing, but it also feels too vague and undefined to be truly terrifying—less cosmic horror, more plot device. There are some great tense moments, but the book sometimes spends too much time setting up conflicts and not enough resolving them in a satisfying way.
Intrigue – 8/10
Say what you will about the book’s flaws—it is hard to put down. The combination of survival horror, mutant abilities, and increasingly dire stakes makes for an intense read. Even when the pacing falters, you want to see what happens next. The tension is real, especially in the first half, but some of the middle sections drag with too much “woe is Sam” nonsense. The ending is good, but not as explosive as it could have been. Orsay’s dream-prophet subplot was interesting but got sidelined, which is a shame.
Logic/Relationships – 6.5/10
Logic? Sometimes it's there. Other times, it gets sacrificed on the altar of drama. The food crisis makes sense, but Sam’s leadership issues feel like he’s stuck in a loop, making the same mistakes over and over. Caine’s return to form is fun, but his master plan has some serious holes in it. The relationships are all over the place—Sam and Astrid have all the chemistry of a stale piece of bread, but Diana and Caine’s toxic power struggle? Genuinely entertaining. Some of the character decisions feel dictated more by plot convenience than actual personality, which makes certain moments frustrating rather than compelling.
Enjoyment – 7/10
Did I enjoy it? Mostly, yes. Is it a fun ride? At times. Is it frustrating? Absolutely. The tension is great, the horror elements work, and the world is engaging—but the character repetition, occasional logic gaps, and inconsistent pacing stop it from being a truly great book. I kept reading because I wanted to see what happened next, but I also kept rolling my eyes whenever Sam had another “I don’t want to be a leader” moment. Worth reading? Yes. Worth raving about? Not quite.
Final Verdict: 7.3/10
Hunger is a solid sequel that keeps the stakes high but struggles with pacing, repetitive character arcs, and a few too many convenient plot moments. It’s still dark, gripping, and at times terrifying, but it doesn’t quite live up to Gone. If you love survival horror with a splash of sci-fi, you’ll enjoy it—but if you’re looking for tight plotting and deep character development, you might find yourself frustrated.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Body horror, Gore, Torture, Violence, Cannibalism, and Murder
Moderate: Animal death, Bullying, Child death, Confinement, Eating disorder, Emotional abuse, Gun violence, Mental illness, Physical abuse, Toxic relationship, Vomit, Kidnapping, Grief, Fire/Fire injury, Toxic friendship, Abandonment, Alcohol, and Injury/Injury detail
Minor: Ableism, Cursing, Death, Misogyny, Panic attacks/disorders, Self harm, Sexism, Medical trauma, Death of parent, and Sexual harassment
This book is dark and intense, focusing heavily on survival horror, moral dilemmas, and psychological trauma. The violence can be brutal, and the body horror elements are particularly disturbing. It also explores themes of leadership under pressure, starvation, and power struggles in a lawless society. While it doesn’t contain explicit sexual content, there are manipulative and toxic dynamics between characters that might be unsettling.
Would not recommend for readers who are sensitive to gore, body horror, or child death.
Gone by Michael Grant
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
4.0
Characters – 8/10
I have to give credit where it’s due—Grant knows how to write a cast that sticks in your head. Sam is the classic reluctant hero, but at least he has some internal struggles that make him interesting. Astrid is smart (maybe too smart for the rest of these kids), Quinn is that friend who can’t decide if he’s loyal or a liability, and Caine is a power-hungry sociopath because of course he is. Some of the villains, like Drake, feel like they were yanked straight from a Saturday morning cartoon, but hey, at least they’re fun to hate. Overall, a strong lineup, even if some characters lean toward caricature.
Atmosphere/Setting – 9/10
If there’s one thing this book nails, it’s the vibe. The FAYZ is unsettling, chaotic, and dripping with the kind of tension that makes you wonder if civilization was ever a good idea in the first place. The sense of isolation is so intense, I almost wanted to check my own cell signal just to make sure I wasn’t trapped in some dystopian nightmare. The town, the beach, the nuclear plant—it all feels vivid and real, which makes the creeping horror of kids turning feral even more effective.
Writing Style – 7/10
Grant’s writing is clean, snappy, and gets the job done. No frilly nonsense, no long-winded metaphors about the meaning of existence—just straight-up action and dialogue. Sometimes, though, it reads like a script for a TV show aimed at teenagers who think talking really fast makes dialogue witty. It’s entertaining, but I wouldn’t call it literary gold. Still, it’s engaging enough to keep the pages turning, and that’s what matters.
Plot – 8/10
A bunch of kids wake up in a world without adults, and everything immediately goes off the rails. No waiting around for things to simmer—this book drops you straight into the madness. The stakes are high, the conflicts are brutal, and there are some genuinely great twists. Sure, there are moments where it drags (because how many power struggles between hormonal teenagers can one book really sustain?), but the core story is strong. Some twists are predictable, but others had me actually surprised, which is saying something.
Intrigue – 9/10
I’ll admit it—I was hooked. The mystery of the FAYZ, the escalating conflicts, the bizarre powers, and the sheer what-the-hell-is-happening energy kept me flipping pages way past my bedtime. If a book makes me forget to check my phone, it’s doing something right. The pacing occasionally stumbles, but overall, I was invested in seeing how this apocalyptic playground of chaos would play out.
Logic/Relationships – 7/10
For a book about mutant children trying to survive in a dystopian nightmare, the logic holds up surprisingly well. The characters mostly act in ways that make sense, given their situations, though some relationships feel a little forced (cough Sam and Astrid cough). The world-building does just enough without getting bogged down in sci-fi technobabble, though I still have questions about how some of these powers actually work. There are occasional “wait, but why?” moments, but nothing that completely derails the experience.
Enjoyment – 8/10
Did I have fun? Absolutely. Did I roll my eyes at some of the melodrama? Also yes. But overall, Gone is a wild ride, and I can’t deny that I enjoyed every bit of the madness. It’s exactly the kind of book that makes you want to binge the rest of the series, even if you know it’s going to mess with your emotions. I’d definitely recommend it, especially to fans of fast-paced, slightly unhinged dystopian stories.
Final Score: 8/10
Is Gone a literary masterpiece? No. Is it an absolute blast? Yes. It’s got action, chaos, creepy powers, and enough drama to keep you hooked. Flawed but highly entertaining—I’d read it again in a heartbeat.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Gore, Torture, Violence, Blood, Murder, and Fire/Fire injury
Moderate: Bullying, Child death, Death, Emotional abuse, Gun violence, Mental illness, Physical abuse, Toxic relationship, Grief, and Injury/Injury detail
Minor: Cursing, Misogyny, Vomit, Car accident, Alcohol, and Sexual harassment
This book deals with themes of survival, power struggles, and moral dilemmas in a world without adults. It features intense and sometimes disturbing violence, and younger readers or those sensitive to distressing content should be cautious. The story does not shy away from the cruelty and brutality of unchecked power, making it darker than many typical YA dystopian novels.
Calamity by Constance Fay
adventurous
emotional
funny
tense
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
3.25
Characters – 7/10
Temperance? Solid. She’s got the snark, the skills, and the emotional baggage to carry a story. But the rest of the cast? They exist. Ven is so obviously a walking red flag that I can’t believe Temperance was this blindsided. Oksana is there to be young, hot, and conveniently naïve. Arcadio has “mysterious and brooding” down pat, but aside from his impressive physique and generically intense presence, he doesn’t have much going on. The supporting crew is fine, but no one really jumps off the page. They’re more like accessories to Temperance’s story than fully realized people. They do their jobs; they don’t steal the show.
Atmosphere/Setting – 6/10
The world-building is there, but it’s just… there. It does what it needs to do, but it’s not breaking any new ground. The Quest is your typical “lovable but beat-up ship” trope, and while I wanted it to feel like a character in its own right, it never quite got there. The desert world? Sure, it’s dusty and full of secrets, but I wasn’t exactly transported into the setting. Space politics? Standard fare, nothing revolutionary. The book leans heavily on established sci-fi aesthetics without giving them enough unique flavor to make them unforgettable.
Writing Style – 7/10
Fay’s prose is punchy, sometimes too much so. It’s engaging and easy to read, but the snarky dialogue gets repetitive fast. Every interaction doesn’t need to be a witty repartee contest. At some points, the humor actively undercuts emotional tension—why feel something when you can throw in another quip? It’s like Firefly but with fewer emotional gut punches and more forced sarcasm. The actual writing is smooth, though, and the balance of action and dialogue is solid. I never struggled to get through it, but I wasn’t blown away either.
Plot – 6/10
If you’ve read sci-fi adventure before, you’ve basically read Calamity. The pacing is uneven, with an engaging start, a saggy middle, and a decent-but-not-mind-blowing ending. Ven’s betrayal? So telegraphed that I was mentally checking off the “obligatory love interest deception” box before it even happened. The mission to scout the planet for a valuable mineral is compelling in theory, but the high stakes never quite feel high. It’s a serviceable plot, but I kept waiting for a twist that would genuinely surprise me. Instead, I got “Ven sucks, Family politics are ruthless, and phydium is space gold.” Groundbreaking.
Intrigue – 7/10
I was never bored, but I wasn’t exactly obsessed either. The book had just enough tension and action to keep me turning the pages, but I didn’t feel a desperate need to find out what happened next. The betrayals, the romance drama, the political maneuvering—it’s all fine, but nothing left me gasping. I wanted more depth, more layers, more anything to make the intrigue feel truly gripping.
Logic/Relationships – 5/10
Oh, the relationships. Where do I even start? The romance subplot is a mess. Ven’s duplicity makes Temperance look more gullible than she should be, and Arcadio feels more like a designated love interest than someone with genuine chemistry with her. The rest of the crew? They’re there, they function, but their dynamics aren’t particularly deep or compelling. As for the world’s internal logic—phydium is apparently the most important mineral in the universe, but no one seems to have a real plan for handling it. The Families are supposed to be hyper-intelligent power players, yet they act like impulsive teenagers with too much money.
Enjoyment – 6/10
I wanted to love Calamity. I almost did. But while it’s a fun ride, it never fully delivers on its potential. The humor wears thin, the relationships lack real weight, and the plot plays it way too safe. It’s not bad—I had a decent time—but I won’t be raving about it to everyone I know. Would I recommend it? If you like snarky sci-fi with a competent but flawed heroine, sure. Just don’t expect it to blow your mind.
Final Verdict: 6.3/10
Calamity is like a meal at a chain restaurant: enjoyable enough, but you’ve had better, and you’ll probably forget about it in a few weeks. It’s got action, humor, betrayal, and a capable heroine, but it lacks real depth in its world-building, plot, and relationships. Good for a casual read, but not a must-buy.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Gun violence, Toxic relationship, Violence, and Blood
Moderate: Death, Emotional abuse, Infidelity, Sexual content, and Colonisation
Minor: Cursing, Sexism, Grief, Alcohol, and Classism
This book explores themes of power struggles, survival, betrayal, and emotional resilience. While it’s not overwhelmingly dark, it does touch on manipulative relationships, the cost of loyalty, and systemic inequalities. There’s a snarky, humorous tone that balances the tension, but the protagonist deals with trust issues, loss, and abandonment throughout.