The Adventure Zone: The Suffering Game is the newest release in the TAZ Graphic Novel series, a book series spun from their first iteration of the story, through playing DND for a podcast. I’ve loved this podcast since I first heard it, and it’s incredible to relive and re-experience the story with a fresh new look and some changes to the story after time has elapsed.
Suffering Game is the sixth book in the series of (what I think will be) seven total, and the sixth arc of seven in the podcast’s original storytelling. And though my softest spot is for TAZ: The Eleventh Hour (which is arc five), this is a close second. The ramping tension and upheaval of the stakes in this arc is fantastic, and I love how well it was put to paper in this novel.
The art and transition to paper that this arc takes is fantastic; the drawings and attention to detail is done to an exceptionally high standard, and the movement of the story into book form is really well done. That being said, there are some omissions in the book from the original podcast story, and some of them are moment that I miss greatly, but understand wholeheartedly why they were removed. A lot of it is to do with streamlining, naturally, and things like “trimming the fat”, but it was “the fat” that I liked the taste of best. There are things removed from the character’s arc that I understand – removing these aspects is fine since they technically don’t lead anywhere. They’re superficial aspects (character’s looks being sacrificed to the game, character backstory going unexplored) because, ultimately, they don’t serve any purpose in the finale or wider story. Which is fine. Except for, I miss them. But it is fine.
This story as a whole means a lot to me, I’ve always really enjoyed it, and I still do. I like it in both audio and visual form. The art by Carey Pietsch is fantastic (as it always has been), and the writing works brilliantly to invoke its origins, keep the pace, and make you laugh. Which it does!
It’s an excellent graphic novel – though maybe not as an entry to the series (would be hard to start a series at the penultimate!). Though I think that part of my five stars comes from nostalgia and old love for the material, I still think it deserves that ranking. It’s a great book, an easy read; the art is fantastic and it’s fun to look for the small details across every page.
I had the pleasure of seeing Hadestown live in the West End on March 3rd, 2024. It was in the Lyric Theatre – a beautiful and ornate setting for this play, and thankfully, came equipped with the brilliantly rotating floor that’s perfect for this show. Hadestown is a musical that I’ve been listening to since about 2018, and unfortunately for me – I discovered it right after it had ended its first London debut with its test run of shows, and have been waiting for it to return ever since. Which, in a way, is very relevant and poetic of me. This is a musical that I’ve always found fantastic, either the Broadway or Off-Broadway version, and now the West End version too, since I always knew I’d more than just enjoy seeing the production live.
I would describe Hadestown as one of my favourite musicals of all time, and having the opportunity to see it live was not lost on me. I was emotional from the first few notes (and cried more often during the show than just during the ending – anyone sitting near me was a trooper for sure).
I’ve always loved the way its themes seem to rise above the era. When I first discovered it in 2018, I’d had no idea it had been around and predated Off-Broadway with even earlier versions of the recording by Anais Mitchell, since I had assumed there were implications of the 2016 US election, general poverty, and the Great Depression in there. And, there are, but there’s more than that, too – so much of the story circles all the way back around to love, and trust, and faith in yourself and in each other.
The myth of Orpheus and Eurydice is, and remains in this production, a tragedy – which I knew going in, though I still found myself weepy when it happened – and coupled with the mirror of Hades and Persephone, the show is perfect for a Greek mythology enjoyer, as well as anyone who appreciates a good song and dance number, and hands you a good excuse to cry in a theatre from the story.
Softened to the original Broadway recording, I went into the West End production fairly blind to the casting choices.
The acting and singing, and general performance, of each cast member was genuinely incredible. I’d have to pinpoint Gloria Onitiri’s performance of Our Lady of the Underground as my absolute favourite song from the show – which was a surprise for me, as the songs that I tend to gravitate back to the most is Wait for Me, and its reprise. She deserved her flowers and more for that performance, and I’m sure she gives that same energy each night. Genuinely a delight to watch her sing one of the greatest notes in the whole show.
Overall, this show was already near and dear to my heart, but this production was absolutely phenomenal, and worth seeing again and again.
Having been invited to watch RuneSical as it came online, I thought the opportunity would present itself as a fun morning. My experiences with RuneScape are fairly minimal – I remember my uncle playing it in the early 2000s, and by “remember” I mean more of “vaguely recall the low-poly, very triangular shapes of the game”, and my partner enjoys grinding the game while watching a movie, or a TV show. He’s pretty well-versed in such a universe both in its actual gameplay and its general public reception, and I asked him to watch it with me for references I definitely wouldn’t get (which happened) and jokes I wouldn’t understand (which also happened). I did initially worry I would be left in the lurch if I didn’t understand much of anything about RuneScape before diving in, but the show is fairly gentle with its audience, with things for people who land anywhere on the spectrum of their familiarity with the game. Ultimately, I like theatre, and he likes the game, so we were both in for a good time.
We watched it together, roaming through the choices presented to us. I went into it aware of it being a choose-your-own adventure (which I admit, I was really interested to see how it would have worked live, and wish I could have seen it in its most natural state!). Each segment of the story presents you with two or more choices for the next, altering your adventure each time. Some choices presented lead to the same decisions being made regardless (Lance adventuring with Odin, for example) in order to get the story moving and not to abruptly end the play before it was to even begin. It was a fun twist to traditional theatre in that way, with a kind of audience participation that I, for once, didn’t find myself dreading with a lump in my throat since I was sat comfortably in my pyjamas, at home. I think the decision to put it online was fantastic – it was interactive and fun, while keeping a strong hold on a traditional theatre atmosphere. I felt like I was there, which was impressive.
RuneSical had a small but talented cast: Christian Maynard (Lance), Katie Pritchard (Odin), Jenna Sian O’Hara (Pearl), Sam Cochrane (The Wizard), Alex Prescot (Player 1), Theo Diedrick (Player 2) & Lydia Barton Lovett (Player 3). Each was skilful in their acting roles and musical ones, the show was filled with fun and lively music, Broadway-esque notes and runs.
While there are around 20 videos to the story overall, as a viewer you will only see 7 each run, so each song sticks out with individuality as each choice is presented and made. My favourites from my particular experience were, The Fisherman Song #2, and It’s Bad Being Good. And, though I never realised it having never played the game, my partner picked up on musical motifs from the game acting as the springboard for some songs, which I thought was a really fun addition to the play!
RuneSical was a fun, vibrant show sprung from a source I’d never have expected to have or get a musical adaptation, and I really enjoyed watching it! It was more than just a fantasy play and, I felt, more than just a fistful of references and jokes. There was a good heart to the show and a fun plot with a nice twist for its characters.
Ricky Montgomery’s new album, Rick, landed on shelves and streaming services today. This is an album I’ve been looking forward to since his last album, Montgomery Ricky, and a handful of singles (such as some edits of songs from his first album, and singles from Rick such as Don’t Say That, Eraser, and Boy Toy) came out.
Montgomery Ricky released in 2016, with a track list of: This December Line Without a Hook Cabo Don’t Know How Last Night California My Heart is Buried in Venice Mr Loverman Get Used to It Snow and a run-time of 35 minutes. However, his two songs, Line Without A Hook, and Mr Loverman went viral on TikTok back in 2020. Typically, they go hand in hand with various edits and memes, but when I discovered those songs and thereby the album and Ricky himself, I was floored by his music style, lyricism, and voice.
His new album Rick, had been alluded to and then promoted vigorously online, and described during his Block Party Podcast appearance as, “It’s called Rick, which is both my dad’s name, so it’s like being an adult and growing up without, you know, one of your parents. […] I am called Ricky, it’s my name that I go by, that I’ve gone by since I was a little boy – if your name is Ricky, there’s a point in your life where you consider becoming Rick.”. I found this particularly interesting as while the album progresses, it moves forward with the clear theme of rushing adulthood, self-discovery, and family relationships. I found it altogether endearing and in many instances, heartbreakingly intense.
Rick has a track list of One Way Mirror Boy Toy Truth or Dare I’m Just Joking in This Interlude (Interlude) In Your Pocket Don’t Say That Eraser We Got Married Twice (Interlude) Type A Paper Towel Sometimes I Need to Be Alone Ethan’s Song Black Fins Ribbons (Outro) and a run-time of 40 minutes.
Songs such as Sometimes I Need to Be Alone stuck out to me as almost classics; soft and witty with lines such as “You tell me it’s not now or never / but I can’t wait forever / It’s such a simple question / with such an easy answer” and the repeating-to-finish lines of “It’s you”, the song quickly stuck out to me as an all-time favourite. I found it particularly inspiring as it goaded out my own creative endeavours with a burst of energy and life, which is always such a gorgeously invigorating feeling when finding a song, artist, or album.
The tracks Don’t Say That, Eraser, and Boy Toy were released early in anticipation for the album, and while in my experience I didn’t see many waves from Don’t Say That and Eraser, Ricky’s song Boy Toy was a quick hit to fans, myself included. I feel this song also boosted his online presence, leading to fun artist interactions and a fantastic peek into what the wider album would look like, especially with the inclusion of the lyric video. Boy Toy was an interesting look into the art and style of the music, with fun, bouncy music and catchy lyrics, with a nice undercurrent of vulnerability and admission.
The general “vibe” of the art and presentation of this album almost gives me the vibe of a backroom, a liminal space, a creepy story regurgitated online; however all the music itself is incredibly vulnerable and introspective, especially given songs Truth of Dare and Type A, with lines such as “Let’s play truth or dare / try to act like I’m not scared / stripped down to my underwear / it’s only show and tell” and “What a year we’ve had / you went bi, I put my gender back” respectively, being amazingly open, raw, and real.
The two interludes and outro include some spoken-word conversations between Ricky and his mother, discussing his father, in various past situations before their divorce and his untimely passing. There was a similar interlude in the 2022 EP It’s 2016 Somewhere, and these three tracks reek of that nostalgic tone. They are heartfelt, funny, and contemplative. A nice break to the album that provide a nice context, but ultimately become skips on further relistens as the draw is of course more naturally pointed to the songs.
Ricky Montgomery is honestly one of my absolute favourite artists I’ve had the fortune to come across, as his music is youthful, fun, and cuts right to the bone. My anticipation for Rick was high; I was incredibly excited for its release and found myself up and listening to the album as early as 5:30am the morning of release! It is truly an incredible listen, and I’m beyond excited to see where Ricky goes next (hopefully, to the UK on his tour!)
I have struggled to get stuck into Welcome to Nightvale books in the past, and I worried that this would be the case when I bought this book, The Faceless Old Woman Who Secretly Lives in Your Home. I have put down and picked up the original Welcome to Nightvale podcast a few times and consider myself committed to it again, currently. I’m caught up on the material, but find it admirable that the novels usually are able to stand on their own two feet, though they certainly hit harder when the homework has been done.
I feel Joseph Fink and Jeffrey Cranor’s writing is something to be listened to, rather than read, sometimes. Though I don’t think this is any fault of theirs – I’m just used to it being done this way, in that particular medium, from years of a bimonthly updated podcast appearing in my feed. This isn’t to say the writing is weak, but there is a particular voice to it that seems lulling, perhaps. Not slow, but steady. This did cause some difficulties for me while I was reading – waning interest, feeling, somehow, incredibly tired after a bout of reading. But this doesn’t mean that the book is bad. Quite the opposite, I think the book is quite impressive, especially as its from the perspective of a secondary Welcome to Nightvale character.
The book follows the life of the faceless old woman who secretly lives in your home, a well known character from the original podcast, exploring her life, history, and purpose, as well as how she came to be the recognisable character in the podcast that she is. It’s a fun read, with a lot of high stakes action and adventure, and a long sense of history behind it. I prefer not to spoil books in my reviews, but I find that this story was a nice piece of a puzzle I didn’t know that I was originally missing. I enjoyed the way that the novel almost felt larger than life and older than time – full of travel and the slow march of time in the face of a person’s goals.
I found it to be an enjoyable read. The chapters being fairly short complemented the steady flow of the writing style, to save from any encroaching boredom and to create intrigue with sharp endings. I would, however, only really recommend it to anyone who has some knowledge of the main show at least, as I believe the final few chapters feel a lot more complete that way, and end quite neatly if you fully understand what is happening around the central character. That being said, the story can stand on its own, and if you’re not too bothered about understanding the “lore” then dive right in! Enjoy a pirate story on a winding path to your heart’s content.
I remember when this podcast went live, boosted somewhere into my online feed because I had been a fan of Welcome to Night Vale, even as I felt it slipping from my grasp of enjoyment (it’s back now).
“Conversations With People Who Hate Me” is a podcast initially beginning with Dylan Marron, the creator, reaching out to people who have left him mean comments on his online work. They discuss the comment, among other things, and while not strictly having to come to some ample, satisfactory conclusion, usually both parties leave the table feeling different to how they sat down at it. It would later evolve into Dylan moderating a conversation between two people – one whose work or art piece or the like received a mean comment, and the person who left it.
I thought this was an interesting idea when it first came out back in 2017, mostly because I’d seen nothing like it outside of thinking back to when you’d get taught as a kid to “be nice”, or “not get angry” that kind of thing, that parents kind of do: “Remember to share!” when they’re, I don’t know, in the kitchen, and not watching you not share. “Just talk!” felt like impractical advice, I wasn’t sure how it would help, if it even could. But I remember listening to a few episodes before I fell off of podcasts entirely, (not for any particular reason, I think it would mostly down to this itch in my brain that told me if I’m listening to people speak then I have to listen and I found myself unable to do anything else if I had a podcast on, and I must not have been getting enough A-Level revision done as a result) listening to the back and fore of a conversation that would definitely frustrate me, but I found Dylan was navigating well. It wasn’t something I could have done. I’m not certain it is now, five years on.
The book was quite a lot about how the podcast came to be, and what was learned during its creation process. Which is fine, truthfully, I wasn’t sure it would be about anything else since the book and the podcast shared the same name. There is a tale woven within it about what the internet is and what it could be – how it effects us and the kinds of things, good and bad, it can lead us to doing or feeling. I enjoyed seeing the depth of something I had liked and then lost hold of years ago, re-entering my vision in a way that contextualised and solved what probably caused me to drop it in the first place. I don’t think I was ready to have the kinds of conversations Dylan was having then, and while I’m not convinced I am now, either, one thing I found dazzlingly soothing was the understanding of the “Everything Storm”. The “Everything Storm” is kind of how it sounds: everything is happening all the time, all at once, and if you can’t keep up, someone on the internet definitely thinks you suck. I never realised this was what was causing my own version of an internet fatigue, but on reading Dylan’s detailing of his own (even as it was attributed to discussions he was having and manifesting as different emotions and actions for him), I was like, oh man, this is it. This is what pushed me to the private twitter with all of my ten highly vetted followers, what made me rest my phone face down. It was nice to put a name to that weird feeling of guilt when something happens and all I can think when I look at it was, “Oh no. Not now. Please.”
This was definitely a feature of the book I really enjoyed, the detailing of the arcs of a conversation, serving you pieces you can recognise and take away with you, the smallest of navigation tips to assure your nerves if you ever take on the kind of conversations Dylan does.
The book is delightfully written, reading like a winding story while instilling a genuine lesson. I don’t often read non-fiction, but when I do I find I prefer it to feel almost personal. I enjoyed this deep dive into the very back of Dylan Marron’s mind: what lead to the podcast and the further book, and all the nuances of creation that came both before, and during, this chapter of his life. I can see why it would have been difficult to write, after learning it was supposed to release in mid 2020, not the first half of 2022. The deliberation of what may come of these “pieces” – the consequences to all of Dylan’s actions, in a way -was purposeful and honest. Which is refreshing to see in world tearing itself apart wondering who the main character of the day is, and how exactly then can get got.
I think Dylan Marron is the kind of person you either quietly follow through the years, even if you’re not aware that you are (which is the category I fall into: I heard of him through his work on Welcome to Night Vale, and found myself coming back to his page every so often to see what, if anything, had changed), or, one day, you happen upon him by accident entirely. For a long time he was just “that voice on that show I used to listen to”, but I realise now Dylan is much more and has been doing much, much more than that. I get the feeling that this is something of a memoir rather than a self-help-essay-type of book like Good Vibes Good Life by Vex King, which I really, really like. It feels real and honest; genuine and undoubtfully true. It has a similar kind of vibe to Elizabeth Gilbert’s Big Magic – a snippet of a wide, three-dimensional life, and how it made an unfathomably large ripple across the rest of that person’s days.
It was a fantastic read. I don’t know that I would recommend it to everyone, but I think it’s one of those books where if you look into it yourself and think yeah, I can get behind this, then do.
Thomas Vaccaro’s De Cineribus: From the Ashes was a book I honestly wasn’t sure I’d like. I like Thomas’s YouTube videos a lot (their channel name being Unicorn of War), as I am certainly a sucker for a good video essay to absorb over a plate of food (my favourites being their RWBY reviews and rewrites, and their Taylor Swift song discussions), but I’d realised with YouTuber books they were often – well, bad. Or at least, would quickly fade from the limelight or fall from grace in a record speed. I was worried, at first, that this book would be similar; a money grab, rather than a labour of love.
I was wrong, and pleasantly so.
One of Thomas Vaccaro’s strengths, I think, is their ability to think far ahead with their plots. Admittedly, I found their channel because I was actively looking for content about RWBY that would prove its awful writing, terrible production, and overall bad reception, and what I found was someone who was lovingly taken the broken, beaten show, and making it into something of their own. RWBY is its own show, yes, but I admired Thomas Vaccaro’s way of reshaping the information we (RWBY’s audience) have, and turning the plot into something both actually palatable and genuinely fun. This was a quality I was sure would shine through in their book, even while I still quietly worried about the production quality of it. Despite that, at the very least, I knew the story was in perfectly capable hands.
And it was.
De Cineribus mainly follows Felix, a young adult about to enter the college scene, heading off to a college for those with magic powers. He finds friends, enemies, suffers his wins and his definite losses. A few other perspectives are followed throughout the story but this, I realised, does not take from Felix’s perspective as sometimes multiple POV stories can do. Rather I found the jumps in perspective enlightening, and definitely enriching of the wider plot as new characters would pose new questions to me (what’s happening here? How does it relate back and affect Felix? How much do they know? Whose side are they on?).
As I said, I admire Vaccaro’s dedication to writing and storytelling. It’s most definitely a skill of theirs, and clearly shows through the books. First of all, the book is just over 500 pages long, so you can tell that’s dedication to a story for one! But mainly it comes in the depth and complexity of their characters (and there’s a good number of them!) but while the cast of characters is big, it is not overwhelming. There are not so many that I can’t keep track, or I can’t remember whose skill is what, or who matters to who. This is something I was incredibly relieved to find out as often college/magical fantasy stories often have casts as far as the eye can see. This is something RWBY is completely guilty of, and I found myself noticing Vaccaro’s particular points about RWBY being contested in their own work. Characters in De Cineribus are fleshed out, have their own skills and limits, motivations, and broad personalities. I liked being able to not expect what a character would be like based on their skills. Healers who aren’t friendly, teachers who are cranky, teachers who are jovial, etc. I liked, especially, that while Felix was for the most part sweet and caring and loyal, he also had a very clear dark underbelly to his character; one that was angry, determined to the point of obsessive, and sometimes a bit scary. It was nice to see a main character with real faults, and real regrets when those faults caught a hold of him too strongly.
The writing is strong and done with precision (although I’ll admit I found a few typos – but to err is human. And even so, I can’t even remember where they were or what they were!), Vaccaro’s skill and dedication really shine through the way the dialogue is youthful but not cringey, and the way their descriptions are alluring but not droning. The prose itself was enjoyable, turns of phrase appearing that I wouldn’t have expected, I think I was most fond of “bust a gut” to describe laughter, since this isn’t an image I usually come across, and it definitely elevated the youth of the characters and the depth of their emotions.
The book is, as I said, just over 500 pages – so, not a quick read, but a fun, entangling one.I trust Thomas to make a strong series based on their passion and unwavering dedication. Since this is called book one, and I’m excited to see where the rest of the story may go. Especially since the books ends in a very apt spot for a sequel to take over.I admire their dedication to their craft and in particular, to their audience.
I appreciate aspects I’ve otherwise never seen in literature such as their comprehensive list of trigger warnings at the beginning of the book, and good sized chapters – long enough to engage, short enough that I don’t get bored.
I was initially worried about boring fantasy tropes showing their head throughout this text, as most fantasy books fall victim to at least a few. And while I’m sure a few did seep in there, I was pleasantly surprised when things didn’t turn out that way and I actually couldn’t guess where the story would go as it progressed, which was definitely a breath of fresh air for me.
Overall, the book was a fun, immersive read. Especially for fans of things such as Harry Potter but have outgrown it or do not wish to support its author. It’s a fun, youthful take on the “wizard school” idea, one ripe for a new generation and a new presence in literature.
It Ends With Us by Colleen Hoover is one of those books I heard about over and over and over again and kept skirting the edges of to get away from. With her skyrocket into popularity, I found myself jumping through hoops to avoid her work, for no other reason than: I had a weird feeling I’d like it, and because I know she has so many books published, I simply didn’t have the time or money to fall into her work and out the other side, changed.
Then I got paid.
It Ends With Us was the kind of book floating all over booktok, appearing and disappearing in book group posts I would skim read; it was popular, easy to read, and seemingly either incredibly well-liked, or vehemently hated. I wanted to know why. Even when I was actively avoiding it, I wanted to know what it was that was happening to people that their reviews were becoming so mixed.
I thought, when I was reading it, that it would be down to its “chicklit” factor. The book itself being pink, and Hoover being notably a romance writer, I thought people were detesting it because it was a gooey, lovey dovey easy read, and not an absolute draining challenge of some such classic literature you’d find on a university reading list that I’m sure I would hate after half of the first page. I found myself believing this at one point, questioning if something that had so clearly rocketed into pop culture, wouldn’t it be too easy for me?
And then I decided I didn’t care. I’d been paid. My New Year’s Resolution was to read twenty books this here and here was a book I was interested in; I had to take the opportunity before it skirted me, the same way I had been skirting It Ends With Us. I bought it one day after work, snatching it from the shelf before I had a chance to think about it too long, rushing myself through the till before I had the chance to turn around and put it back.
Besides, if I didn’t like it, there is a cute phone-box-library right by my house, and I’m sure someone, somewhere, would like it more than me.
I kept it. I’m keeping it forever, tucked nicely into the pink section of my bookshelf. Because I liked it. As I, ironically, knew that I would.
It Ends With Us is a fun book at first. A real page turner as one relationship blossoms right before the reader’s eyes and the other notable relationship come sneaking out of the shadows, piece by piece. I admit, I’m no high class literature snob (except for when I want to be), so when the blurb said something much more wordy than simply “Man A meets Man B and which one will it be at the end?” I had two main thoughts: I’m too good for this and this is going to be a great read for me. I got over myself quick when I found I was six chapters in the same day I’d started reading, and had the feeling that by that time tomorrow, the book would be finished.
I had heard a lot of different opinions on Colleen Hoover’s writing style, and I had initially been worried that I wouldn’t like it. But admittedly, the writing style is easy and quick. Not plain, exactly, but simple. Easy to follow and, as I found out, easy to get lost in. The book is fast paced with short to mid length chapters (which I certainly appreciate, I always felt like short chapters feel more like the book is moving, rather than longer ones), and with its page-turner ability, I found the book was over far sooner than I’d expected.
The story progresses as (no spoilers): Lily meets Ryle and they hit it off. It’s great, until. And also in the mix is an old friend of Lily’s she was once in love with.I know it sounds very chicklit-y. It is. But that’s honestly what made it fun for me. I’m excited for the sequel to be released and seeing what happened to the cast of characters next.
There are a few things I have noticed in my last few reads, and this one, that have pulled me from my escapism of reading and placed me squarely back in real life. I’m not sure if it’s a trope in and of itself, but I’ve noticed a prevalent “rich best friend” character appearing; funding or enabling the main characters lifestyle, existing for exuberant gifts, there for not much more of a purpose than “be rich” and “be convenient”, which is a shame. I get the feeling that it’s easy, that Rich Best Friend nullifies a lot of typical people-problems, but I find this also voids a certain aspect of relatability to the cast of characters. But honestly, that was the only flaw I saw in the book – everything else about it was compelling and emotional, intriguing and fun!
I read this book in about, let’s say, ten hours total. Over two days, because I’m grown and have a job and go to bed at 10pm and stuff like that, but I thought about this book the entire time I wasn’t reading it. I thought about this book when I was clocking into work at 5:58am this morning, I thought about this book when I was making lunch and left it upturned in my armchair, I thought about this book when the delivery company told me “It’s on the way!” because my excitement was obliterating, and I just could not stop thinking about what a treat I was in for.
Because I was. In for a treat.
I was achingly awaiting the release of TJ Klune’s Under the Whispering Door and wanted something to scratch the itch sooner. I have the Green Creek Series on my shelf, and the House on the Cerulean Sea, too, but I was looking for something new to me to prep for the all-new new-to-everyone release of Under the Whispering Door. I was excited, since The Lightning-Struck Heart is the foundation of a wider series, and I was ready to commit to something fun, light-hearted, and absolutely intoxicating. Since, I reiterate, I read it in about ten hours. It was an excellent start to what I’m sure will be an incredible series, setting up a joyous protagonist with his mismatched, knit-together found family; a unicorn (Gary), half-giant (Tiggy), knight (Ryan), mentor (Morgan), parents, king, and later, dragon, and prince. And I love them. All of them. Just so much. TJ Klune has a fantastic way of crafting the nuanced relationships between his characters; they feel like genuine people, like real conversations are taking place and I can see where they can go before they do, and I adore that. I can see the bonds through their words and the love through the thoughts of the protagonist (Sam Haversford). This is something I have always admired from TJ Klune – I find it remarkable how well done it is every single time. In the Green Creek series, the pack bonds speak for themselves; they are visceral and enveloping. In the House in the Cerulean Sea, they are endearing and heartfelt. In this book, they are tantalizing, fun, witty, and downright hilarious. I think only a few choice authors have ever made me laugh out loud while staring down at the book in my hands in an otherwise silent room. So loud you’d think I’d have barked like a dog. This was one of those authors, making one of those special books that seem to fit in my hands just right. Isn’t that neat?
I loved it. Could you tell? Probably.
The plot is there, in between the bits and pieces of the romance story I was absolutely absorbed in. I find it a really good starting point for a wider series, it deals really nicely with the world itself and the character dynamics, and where/how they fit into their world of Verania, and it sets up really well where the rest of the wider story will go. I love the way the magical creatures were involved with every bit of their own flare, the individualism of TJ Klune’s work is astounding; unique and much needed in the fantasy sections of stores that are just far too filled with whatever new cover Harry Potter has now. I’m excited to see the way this wide world will expand and how the characters fit into it as they, and it (I’m sure), will change around them. And honestly, I’m looking forward to seeing what conflicts will arise between everyone and what exactly it might lead to. I’m doing my very best to not spoil everything about the first book, and I’m trying my best to enter the rest of the series as blindly as I can (I find that best with TJ Klune books – he assures his readers of happy endings, which I have seen time and time again and never once got tired of, but I love the rollercoaster feeling of his novels too much to ruin my fun before I’ve had it).
If anything is a take away here, I find TJ Klune books, this one in particular, about connection, at the heart of everything. Yes, magic is cool, and mystery is fun, but my favourite thing about any TJ Klune story is that it is simply not the same without the connections made along the way. I love seeing it, and I’d love to be able to explain it without screaming “READ THIS BOOK” or “OH MY GOD” or, I don’t know, squealing a little. But it is most definitely a skill I admire in a writer and would love to learn to do myself, one day. Sam Haversford has his best friends, and slowly collects more as the book goes on (which I love. It’s like there’s no bad guys. There’s just stubborn strangers who slowly becoming a part of the group), and his energy is contagious, his demeanour perfectly sunshine-y, his dynamic with his friends complementary and genuine.
To talk about something else, I really loved the humour of the book. It feels youthful and energetic, and it’s perfectly in my style. The thought-process of the main character, his quick wit, and the back-and-fore of him and the other characters is absolutely adoring. It’s fun, snappy, and all-around joyful; there were so many times where I had a huge grin on my face, watching jokes fly between characters for pages and pages, one thing snowballing into another before the plot reintroduced itself to me.
The book is fun. I really, really liked it. I can tell my reading slump has ended on account of, I then immediately bought the rest of the series, Under the Whispering Door, and another book on my way home from work. TJ Klune’s writing is real, and special, and means the absolute world to me. I am beyond excited to experience more of it.
On January 10th, I took a trip to Caerphilly Castle. Having never been there before, I wasn’t entirely sure what to expect – my knowledge of castles extends to, and ends with, Castle Coch and the sparing glance I give Cardiff Castle when j hustle passed it in the city centre. I paid four Time Credits (per person) to get in, and I’d say it was wholly worth it.
Arriving there was amazing, it was so much bigger than I thought, and all of the greenery and animals made it feel almost magical. The long stretching bridges and the reflection from the sun off the water in the moat in its glaring way was amazing; the cold day almost turned warm with how picturesque and summery the scene looked in front of me.
The castle itself was winding and really inviting, it leads you through it without you knowing it has. Every room connects to the other with its own feel of secrecy and intrigue. I found myself wondering more than once whether to go up or down a set of rocky, spiral stairs, where I’d end up on the other end of them and how I’d get back to go the opposite way, but that worry was hugely unnecessary as I was always lead back around to discover it all, whether I noticed the decision was made by my own feet or by the castle floors or not.
My favourite parts were the stretching balcony, almost like a corridor in its length but giving you a view of the greenery and moat on one side, and the courtyard below on the other side every few steps, the corridor that felt more like a cave; enveloping and private, and the very top of the towers (it was just a shame that some of the rock had eroded away enough for the actual top to be blocked off – but despite that, being at such a height in such a space of land was honestly incredible).
From the gift shop, I bought a small pink dragon. There was an area right where you start your trail where you can look into an enclosure from above and see a few dragon statues. They’re so bright in colour and give you honest piercings looks (the kind that make you think the eyes are following you).
Sian Thomas
Creating opportunities for a diverse range of people to experience and respond to sport, arts, culture and live events. / Lleisiau amrywiol o Gymru yn ymateb i'r celfyddydau a digwyddiadau byw
