Written by Lauryn Smith

​Reaching the next stop on the my-life-through-books tour required me to trek through some muddy waters. No, quicksand. Maybe lava?
 
You might think that the new shelter-in-place era we now live in would be prime time to work on personal projects and accomplish non-work-related goals. Well, not when you are a recovering perfectionist. Self-doubt, fear of failure, and questioning whether you, of all people, have anything to say that is worth hearing all make procrastination quite appealing. Amirite?
 
But Sam Laura Brown has re-inspired me to overcome my subconscious self-sabotaging habits, at least in terms of blogging. In fact, I thought I might switch things up beginning with this post and instead of merely reviewing a book, also reflect on how it applies to my life, what it meant to me personally, and so on. It may get a bit stream-of-conscious-y. Who knows. Ready? Here goes.
 
Let’s start by talking about Zits. (I could so easily make a joke about stress breakouts here but shall refrain.) Zits is the main character in Sherman Alexie’s novel “Flight.” He is a biracial teenager with Native American ancestry living in the Pacific Northwest. What’s more, he is a self-described “time-traveling mass murderer.”  

Written by Lauryn Smith

​As promised, I read “A Court of Mist and Fury” by Sarah J. Maas. You may remember my slightly scathing review of its predecessor, “A Court of Thorns and Roses.” Though I still have some qualms, the second in the “A Court of Thorns and Roses” series exceeded my expectations.
 
The story picks up right where the first left off. In the aftermath of bad girl Amarantha’s demise, Feyre returns to life in the Spring Court with soon-to-be hubby Tamlin. But things are not all roses and daisies anymore. First of all, she has that tattoo linking her mind to Rhysand’s, as well as Rhysand’s pesky bargain regarding Feyre’s living arrangements, to worry about. Add to that Tamlin’s newly developed overprotective personality, and the fact that all in the Spring Court abide by his command to keep Feyre safe by restraining her to the grounds and limiting her access to information. Feyre used to feel thankful for Tamlin’s protection, but now she feels stifled, bored and unchallenged. She also cannot get over the guilt regarding the crimes she committed in order to save everyone from Amarantha’s wrath. In addition, the more she gleans about how the courts work, the more repelled by the system she becomes. Oh yeah, and she now has all the powers of a High Fae, powers that reflect those of each of the courts’ High Lords.
 
On the day of Feyre and Tamlin’s wedding, Feyre falls apart. As he did multiple times in “A Court of Thorns and Roses,” Rhysand pops in and saves the day, whisking Feyre away to the dreaded Night Court. That is when everything changes and Feyre’s perspective shifts. Instead of willingly remaining a veiled treasure, Feyre gets her life back on track. She grows familiar with the people, places and politics of the Night Court, trains to control her potent powers and flirts mercilessly with Rhysand. All the while, a new and fiercer evil looms. And once more, Feyre is key in ending it.
 
Maas again focuses on the good versus evil trope, this time on a dual level, both between the courts and an outside force as well as between individual courts. This is a classic and widely appealing theme, so no complaints there, granted the lack of emphasis on the plot leaves something to be desired. Also again, Maas attempts to make the story grab adult readers by including explicit sex scenes. Maas needs more than said sex scenes to make the novel appropriate for adults. Take them away, and this book is young adult through and through. I will contend, though, that the integration of action and romance is accomplished much better in “A Court of Mist and Fury” than in its predecessor. 

Written by Lauryn Smith
​
​Nineties kids rejoice! Jack Thorne, with the help of J.K. Rowling and John Tiffany, has gifted us with a continuation of the “Harry Potter” series—but not in the way you would expect. The three chose to take the story to the stage. Lucky for those of us living in America, the script has been specially bound in book form. (Unfortunately, you can only see the theatrical production at the Palace Theatre in London.)
 
The next installment, titled “Harry Potter and the Cursed Child,” takes places 19 years after “Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.” Instead of focusing on the titular character as in the first seven books, we now focus on his son, Albus Severus Potter. The young Potter, who is just beginning his studies at Hogwarts, struggles to live up to The Chosen One and his legacy in the wizarding community. To make matters worse, the Sorting Hat places Albus in the House of Slytherin.
 
After a dispute between son and father a few years later, Albus becomes fed up with perceived expectations, so he determines to have an impact of his own, despite his father’s ignorance and overprotection. What follows is an epic of good versus evil, light versus dark, that involves Cedric Diggory (yup), House drama, a forbidden Time-Turner and more. Past and present merge, family dynamics are explored, and potential catastrophic darkness looms.
 
Let’s set something straight from the get-go. This read is a screenplay, descriptions of characters, locations, actions and all. The story is therefore more superficial than the previous books in the series. The 300 pages are reflective of the length of the play, and the detailing is minimal. If you are not used to reading screenplays, you may be a bit disappointed with “Harry Potter and the Cursed Child.”

Written by Lauryn Smith

In her historical fiction novel "The Museum of Extraordinary Things," Alice Hoffman invites readers to dive into dueling worlds, one mystical and breathtaking, the other dark and seedy. 

Set in 1911 New York, Hoffman illustrates the time by interweaving the stories of Coralie, a young woman who assists her father’s museum of “natural” wonders, and Eddie, a young man who struggles with his unfortunate past but finds solace in his work as a photographer and life in the Manhattan wilderness. Their paths cross when Eddie accepts a job reminiscent of those he used to accept from shady characters in his youth. This time the job is seeking the missing daughter of an acquaintance of his estranged father. In addition to providing readers a true page-turner of a book, Hoffman expertly introduces readers to actual historical events, in this case the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory fire in Greenwich Village and the fire at Coney Island’s amusement park, Dreamland.

Hoffman, the author of more than 30 novels, seems to want to exemplify the psychological impacts of social and economic inequalities. Coralie feels trapped by the wishes of her father, who disallows her from showing her true self, going so far as to require her to glove her deformed hands, while simultaneously forcing her to train as a water-loving creature to be displayed at the museum. Eddie carries with him the watch of the young son of a wealthy factory owner, which he stole when he was a child working alongside his garment-worker father, a token that seems to represent his distaste with societal disparities. His unease is perpetuated by his craft, in which he uses his camera to capture both beautiful and sordid images. Likewise, Coralie learns that the museum of wonders that once seemed magical is actually a house of hidden horrors. How is it that the world can supply such extremes, and in such proximity?