Young Adult - Blog Posts

My thoughts on

The Midnight Club (2022)

I just finished watching The Midnight Club last night and couldn't help feel how it was like a beautiful work of art left unfinished. When I started the show, I was really impressed by the way the foundation was laid but several things were left unexplained but we'll get there later.

First off, let's talk about the true essence of the show; the stories. While I absolutely loved the way the characters expressed their unconscious/concious desires through the stories knowing that they wouldn't come true, that the future they paint will continue to remain trapped behind words, I couldn't help but feel that we could've been introduced to this world in a better way.

By the time we learn about Natsuki's story regarding the Japanese myth, it's already progressed into a "frenzy of jump scares" which completely ruined the atmosphere for me and I found myself wanting it to be over as soon as possible.

The next thing I wish to address is Ilonka's character. She is a complex teen who is unable to accept the terminal nature of her life and that she cannot be saved. Initially, I liked her drive to survive but as the episodes carry on, we see her completely lose herself in the desperate attempt to grasp what's left of her life. Her character itself had multiple flaws which were further enhanced by the fact that so many things about her were left unexplained.

Why was Ilonka having visions?

Was it because of her medication? Maybe. But it could also, be due to her being most open to the spiritual aspect of the place. She openly sought to achieve wellness through the nature and was engrossed by the past which might've manifested in the form of visions. Maybe her sharing these thoughts with Kevin was the reason for his own visions.

Another aspect of the show I really wanted to see were the stories coming together in the end (as we had in the haunting series) but was really underwhelmed. There were too many plot holes which raised a lot of questions.

Who is Dr. Georgina Stanton?

In the final episode, her ties to the Paragon are hinted at. I personally found myself drawing ties between her and Regina Ballard (Aceso). Regina, upon performing the ritual had lost her hair which kinda made me think if Stanton had also tried to do the same for her son (resulting in the loss of her hair, being the only survivor).

Who are the old ghosts?

This really got me scratching my head finding answers. Maybe they're yet again manifestations of the negative emotions arising in the kids but I'm not sure. Also, how is Kevin connected to the old woman and why does Ilonka keep seeing her where Kevin is?

All these are left unanswered which really irks the viewers to know more.

(I have not read the books and all my interpretations are solely based on the show)

I really want people to flood my inbox with their rants about authors and books they just can't stand, especially YA because it's so gloriously and passionately unhinged and I love it. But I am aware that I'm a tiny little blog that no one knows or interacts with. And despite being on this site for over a decade, I still don't understand the dark alchemy that drives this place.

But, hey, if you do see this, feed me your hatred. Be as vitriolic as your heart desires. Be unreasonable, be irrational. I won't judge you. I won't argue with you. I will accept your rage as my own.

Hmm...maybe this will help: Sarah J. Maas Antis, come to me and offer me your hatred

You know what, I'm about to go somewhere without internet access for a few days, so I'm going to blaze this and see what happens when I come back. For fun.

I made a list. It's incomplete. Working title:

The pre-apocalyptic "omg moooom" phase:

- ww3 memes

- organising climate crisis protests at 14

- Not knowing the "before". Before the housing crisis. Before 9/11. Before Reagan laws. Before debt.

- no going out. No dates in cute restaurants. Do I look freaking rich.

- Amazon or Nestle owning everything you have ever had

- America just.... I'll just say America.

- Being 5th grade when Trump came into office

- No being able to turn off the ads. The manipulation. Ever. The deep psychology approach to making me despise myself since I learnt to decode information

- constant exposure to violence and suffering numbing us until we're called ignorant and heartless for not reacting

- social media algorithms specifically designed to crush and turn me into an addict. Since before I got my period.

- no more girlhood. You know how to pull an eyeliner and perfectly curl your hair in 7th grade or you die.

- no public spaces. There's Sephora, there are some chain restaurant. And if you feel like feeling a drop of relief you buy a Starbucks.

- Cyber. Bullying. Being on your own. Your parents have no goddamm clue.

Where's My Fucking Teenage Dream but it's real. Where's my fluffy 90s hair, my glitter hair combs, my shopping-as-a-hobby, my milkshakes, my prom? Where's my "my favourite colour is yellow?" Yellow like Butter Flowers, not like toxic waste. Can we talk about growing up in the years before a global system snaps? I was 7 when I read a picture book about Anne Frank. Who knew the early knowledge of how to spell 'death' would be so handy.

Something I learned today:

The death of joy and whimsy and all things related to happiness is adulthood.

I'm growing up too fast and my (seasonal) depression isn't helping my odds at being hopeful.

If you're a younger teenager, make sure to hold onto this years with an iron grip and squeeze out every bit of joy from it as you can.

You're gonna need it.

Do the thing, eat the food, ask for help, live the experience and never say no to something that sounds cool (unless it's actually dangerous/goes against your beliefs).

Don't shoot yourself in the foot.

Live your life and be as happy as you can, every little piece of joy counts.

being 25 is like: im dying. im living my best life. im a failure. my life hasnt started. everything interesting has already happened to me. im achieving my dreams. im cutting my hair with kitchen scissors. im starting a skincare routine. im a corporate professional. im a sellout. im out of groceries. i have too many groceries. i am never going to be successful. i am going to win a hugo award before im 30. im crazy. im boring. i need to finish this essay. i need to finish this story. i need to start a newsletter. i need to start tweeting more. i need to stop tweeting. i need to ghost all my friends. i need to tell my friends i love them. i need to find a new apartment. i need to take out the trash. i am the trash that needs to be taken out. 

Your pain isn’t enough to redeem you. Redemption is trying to heal the hurt you’ve caused.

Ace of shades, Amanda Foody

That’s the problem with letting the light in—after it’s been taken away from you, it feels even darker than it was before.

The grace year, Kim Liggett

It didn't matter whether she decked herself in knives or pearls. The world would always demand that a girl apologize for herself, but she would apologize for nothing.

Ace of shades, Amanda Foody

Hope is hugging me, holding me in its arms, wiping away my tears and telling me that today and tomorrow and two days from now I will be just fine and I'm so delirious I actually dare to believe it.

Shatter me, Tahereh Mafi

He was always sad, he knew. But there was a difference between a perpetual state of unhappiness and a sudden gust of it, leaving him cold and helpless. Floundering with no sight of an end.

We hunt the flame, Hafsah Faizah

After all this time, she still had not found an end to her grief. It was a dark well, an echoing place into which she’d once cast a stone, sure that it would strike bottom and she would stop hurting. Instead, it just kept falling.

King of scars, Leigh Berdugo

I stand in front of my window and imagine myself a fearless knight, imagine myself a witch who hid her heart in her finger and then chopped her finger off

Folk of air, Holly Black

I realized pretty early on that the who didn’t really matter so much. That anybody who listens to me, I end up loving them just a little.

Sadie, Courtney Summers

DUSTY DEFAULT SKIN !!

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all other credits will be in the original posts of my resources !!

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First chapter of my book

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.Beep. Beep. SLAM!

Alice Veroux slammed her fist down on her alarm. She glared at the clock.

     5:15. She groaned.

    "Why does morning come so soon!?!?!?"

     She put her pillow over her face and exhaled. Its the first day of school. Breathe in. Breathe out. Repeat. She grabbed her school uniform and towel off her dresser and went to the bathroom.

     She breathed in the familiar smell of her  vanilla and rose soap. I don't want to go. I want to crawl back to bed. Maybe have a blueberry Poptart and watch some anime. She turned off the water and dried off. Her long lavender hair fell like waterfalls of satin behind her back, curling at the ends flirtatiously. Her uniform fit loosely around her petite body. She frowned as she looked down at her chest. This uniform definitely isn't flattering. She gazed in the mirror and sighed at the pale reflection. She pinned her hair up in two panda buns like Sailor Moon. She put on purple eye shadow, winged eyeliner, mascara, blush, and pink lip gloss.

       Bang. Bang. Bang.

     "Get out of the bathroom I need to finish getting ready for work!" Anthony pounded harder on the door.

      "Okay!" Alice pulled up her white knee high socks and then slipped into her blue and white shoes. She checked the time.

      6:15. Shit. No time for breakfast.

      She opened the door after grabbing her crescent moon shaped backpack and wand. "Give me $10." She reached for his wallet in his pocket.

      Anthony grabbed his wallet before she could steal it. "What? Why?" He held it above her reach.

      "No time for breakfast." She flicked her wand and $10 came out of the wallet into Alice's hand. "Thanks." She muttered sarcastically.

      Anthony rolled his eyes. She heard him yelling your welcome as she slammed the door.

      She glanced down at her clock. 6:20. I'm going to have to run. She glanced down at her backpack that had 3 textbooks. This is going to be fun. She sighed and started running. Alice got to the train station and looked at her clock. 6:28. Two minutes early. Alice exhaled sharply trying to catch her breath.

       "Need this?" A dark husky voice was low in her ear. Followed by the scent of mint and cologne.

       Alice tensed up and looked up. An 18 year old boy looked at her smiling holding a water bottle. Alice's aqua blue eyes darkened into a stormy blue gray and she glared at him.

      The boy was caught in her glare, like a bug trapped in a spiders web. It's as if she's staring into my very soul, condemning me to a hellish death of fire and misery.

     "No". Alice backhanded the bottle.

      He watched, as if in slow motion, as the bottle hit the tracks below being hit by the nearby train. He looked up only to see the ends of her hair waving goodbye in the wind as she entered her train.

      Pfft. What a creep. Alice sat in a vacant seat. She pulled out her iphone and headphones and listened to music. She sighed blissfully as she stared out the window, her favorite part of the day had always been the train rides to and from school.

     Her stop came up and she got off. She was surprised by the size of the college. It looked like it never ended. Alice's brother had taken her stuff the night before insisting her to stay for breakfast. So much for that. Her stomach growled and she looked at the school map for the cafe.

     She found it with ease and ordered a vanilla bean Frappuccino with coconut milk and a blueberry bagel. Her first class started at 8:05 so she had 30 minutes to kill.

     She walked around until she found her class, healing magic. All she had to do now was wait.

when u read a book that hits so different before bed and then turn off ur light n stare into space going ??how??? will??? i go on??? with?? my life??

🖤

“In the best conversations, you don't even remember what you talked about, only how it felt.”

~John Green, Turtles all the way down

A New Saga: Hound of Ulster Chapter 3: An Empty Welcome Party

I was in total shock at what I saw. I mean, come on, how often do you see a lipless women with a wide mouth and a really long blood red tongue altogether like that?

Koda must've noticed my expression, because a few seconds after I saw the lady, he asked "you aright, kid?"

"Yeah..." I responded. I could've sworn what I saw was real. Then again, I was in a moving vehicle, and there's loads of pedestrians walking around. It could've been anything... At least, that's what I thought to myself.

With that, the rest of the ride was spent on nothing but silence.

———

As the prowler slowly turned towards the curb and came to a stop, I glanced at the neighborhood we arrived at. It kinda looked like your everyday average suburb to me. A line of brick houses with tiled roofs that have, for some reason, Victorian styled lampposts next to the entrances of driveways. Maybe the people here have an interest in classical antiquity, I thought to myself, noting some of the mini Greco-Roman temples on the porches of the houses.

I opened the car door and stepped out. As I slammed the door, I was gonna walk to Koda's window and say a quick thank you, but for some strange reason, the car turned right from the curb and moved forward.

"Ok, then," I said quietly to myself. "Guess he wanted to be rid of me."

I walked along about 10 houses on the side of the road, looking for the address of my parent's house.

Grimstreet 3337

I looked up towards the house. It was a small dark blue brick house, with a faded red tiled roof and a cobblestone chimney. The garage door was a painted hunter green, the driveway a navy blue. The door was a polished oak door with a Celtic cross style door knocker. The door was shaded by two Ancient Greek style pillars holding up a small Greek style roof.

You can tell that the people around here have an obsession with old stuff. At least, that's what I figure.

I treaded on the grass, stepped in front of the door and placed my hand on the door knocker.

I hesitated.

Thoughts ran all over my head, saying what do I say to them or how should I react. Or even will they recognize me? Will my own sister recognize me?

I hadn't thought of these things before. I've always disliked my parents, but I haven't seen them in a long time. And Koda's words were implanted in my head like seeds and grew. People would make decisions that seem dumb and stupid to us that are either done with a good reason or a bad one. It's about why people do it that counts. Those words echoed in my mind for about a few seconds before I closed my eyes, inhaled as much air as I possibly could, and exhaled slowly, clearing away all my thoughts.

I knocked 5 times. No response. I did it again. No one came at the door. After a few more tries, I gave up. I assumed that no one's home. I looked for a window to check hear the door, but there isn't any. With a sigh, I turned around and walked back to the curb. I decided to wait for them when they came back, since, of course, I didn't have the keys to the house. As I sat down on the curb, I noticed that a newspaper was littered next to my spot.

I picked it up from the edges and read the headlines; Young man among 11 others has gone missing; authorities are still searching for the missing victims.

With a frown, I tossed the newspaper in the air to the light breeze blowing from my left, and watched as it was carried away to the sky. I wasn't into the news much. They didn't have much positivity, in my opinion. As I looked around the neighborhood, I saw a small dark shape flying towards my direction in the corner of my eye. I assumed it was a bird of some sort, but as I looked at the shape more closely, my eyes squinting, I realized it was no bird at all. Whatever it was, it had sharp sharp teeth, a bold head, dark green skin and bat like wings. And it was flying towards me it's yellow-white talons opened, in lightning speed.

A New Saga: Hound of Ulster Chapter 1: The Arrival

Alright. Now that you know me a little better, let's get on with the story.

I landed at the airport in California, no problem. I exited the airport, expecting my family to wait outside, my sister calling out my name with excitement or something, when I saw a man standing outside with a white sign with my name on it in front of a dark purple Plymouth prowler. The guy sorta looked like he was 26 years old. Typical. They don't give a damn about me by sending me away and losing touch and now they send some random dude with a red and black aviator jacket, camouflage pants, clip-on shades, long black hair tied up in a pony-tail and has almond skin.

Great, I thought to myself. Mom and dad sent me a random guy to pick me up. Thanks, you guys!

Irregardless, I walked through the open parking lot towards the guy.

As I placed one last step in front of him, he slowly moved his head towards my face, making contact with my eyes (I wasn't sure, since he was wearing clip on sunglasses, but I had a literal weird feeling in my gut,) and said to me, "You Andrew and Sarah's son?"

OK. Didn't asked my name. Guess he must be my parent's friend or something, then. "Yeah?" I responded.

"Then why are ya standin' around for?" he asked me, "Get in the damn car."

Wow. He seems friendly, I thought to myself. Naturally, I did what I was told and hopped into the prowler.

———

Most of the ride was spent on silence. The man and I didn't say much. He didn't seemed to play any music on the radio, closed all windows with only the air conditioner on to max, and the hood was put on. Nothing but the sound of the cars muffled engine and the ac blowing all it's winds into the car.

Finally, I broke the silence. "So," I asked, "you know my parents?"

"Ah somewhat work with them. That count?" he responded.

"What do you do for a living?"

He didn't respond.

"Alright," I said. "What's your name, then?"

After a few seconds of hesitation, he then responded to my recent question. "Koda."

"So, Koda," I spoke, "what's with the negative face?"

"Ah'd say the same to you, kid," he responded.

Alright, you got me there. "None of your business."

"Well then," Koda responded, "glad we're on the same page."

He drove the car to an exit at the left.

"Ya don' look that excited to see your ma and pa," Koda said.

"What's there to be excited about?" I asked him rhetorically.

"Ah see," he spoke. "Got problems with your parents?"

I didn't respond.

"Kid, Ah've been there before," he continued. "Believe me, ah know how it feels. But sometimes, people would make decisions that seem dumb and stupid to us that are either done with a good reason or a bad one. Ah'm telling ya, kid, it's about why people do it that count."

"Thank for the small-lecture-from-the-guy-I-just-met," I responded.

"Whatever, kid," he finished, as we past the big square wooden sign in bald letters that says Sawville. A sign with no welcome or come back soon on it. That seems like poor effort to me.

As we drove into town, I stared through the window, my emerald eyed shaggy blond hair reflection staring back at me.

You won't believe this, but as we drove past the many pedestrians, I saw a woman with a huge mouth and a long lolling tongue.

A New Saga: Hound of Ulster Chapter 1: Introduction

Hi there. My name is Christopher Canavan, but you may call me Chris. You're probably wondering who I am besides my name. Well, you'll know more about me later on in the story, but here's the stuff I'm willing to tell you know.

I'm a 15 year old kid who used to live in Dublin, Ireland with my grandma for about 6 years of my life. I was born in a town called Sawville, which is located in California, America until about the age of 9, when my parents sent me to Ireland to live, as they said, 'just for a short amount of time' and that 'You'll be back before I know it.' Their exact words. I believed them at the time, but then I had finally figured that they meant 'You'll be gone for God knows how long' and that 'You'll probably never coming back.' That's what I started believing.

To be honest, I didn't have the best childhood. Before moving to Ireland, I remembered being more cheerful and stuff. I was more optimistic and had always relied on my sister Tara. We were pretty close; we played games, with toys and she would tell me stories before I went to bed.

Of course, that all ended when I left. Results? Life pretty much sucked after that. I kept on getting bullied by a group of kids at my school called Sandymount High School, who would just steal my lunch money or beat me otherwise. They got expelled for injuring another student.

You might think that everything should be a bit easier for me after that. Well, you're a bit off there. Sure, I didn't have to be afraid of getting beaten every time I walk down the halls, but many other students, mostly my classmates, would just say mean things behind my back and would sometimes say them directly in front of my face. It hurts, but I got used to it. Not all of them are like that, but they didn't do much to stop it. There was this one guy, but that's a story I'll get to later.

My grandma isn't much of the sweet old lady type. Quit the opposite, actually. She was usually strict to me. Every time I did a wrong thing, no matter how small it is, she'd just ground me for a month. When I was 13, I told her about me being bullied at school. Her response? Instead of saying 'You poor child. We'll talk to the principle right away,' she just said 'You're becoming an adult, boy. A man. Meaning you must stop being a weakling and harden your shell.' Like I said before about my parents. Exact words.

That kinda affected me in someway. After a few months, I didn't become much cheerful. I found expressing my emotions a waste of time and I didn't interacted much to other people.

So, yeah I practically shut myself off from the rest of the world. Including my grandma and my parents, who didn't bother sending me a letter. As well as my sister.

Anyway, 2 or 3 weeks after I turned 15, grandma passed away and, of course, I had to go back to America to live with my parents and sister.

I expected an awkward welcome and some normal stuff that usually happens to me. But as I came to Sawville, things go a bit unexpected.

A New Saga: Hound of Ulster Prologue

It was a dark night in the town of Sawville. The streets are bare of any sign of life. The houses lining the streets were quiet, the windows barren from any light. The lamppost lit dimly, brightening only patches of the road and cement grounds of the pavements.

Not a single breath from any creature was to be heard. Not a single movement to be seen. Nothing but the chirps of crickets filled the cold air in the moonless sky. From around the block, a middle-aged man in a black shirts with a blood red skull was treading on the side of the road, his head almost covered in shadows from the lamplight. He was about to turn right to a red-brick house with a blue-tiled roof when suddenly, he heard a shrill wailing reminiscent of a woman's piercing the pitch black silence.

He swiftly turned around, startled by the sound, but couldn't see anyone through the shadows of the night. Before he could step to the direction he believed was the source of the screaming, a flying creature swooped down in a blur and flew away, the man's screams fading away in the distance.

❣️Books❣️

The Love Hypothesis - Ali Hazelwood

The Spanish Love Deception -Elena Armas

the Kiss Quotient -Helen Hoang

To Hate Adam Conner -Ella Maise

The Cheat Sheet -Sara Adams

How Sweet It Is -Dylan Newton

Punk 57 -Penelope Douglas

It Happened One Summer -Tessa Bailey

I’d planned to participate in this year’s wattys, under the fantasy category. However, I revised the rules, checked the deadlines again, calculated how much time I had to work on my entry, and realized that it is wiser to wait until next year.

When it comes to something like the wattys, or any other serious competition you’d like to take part of, you mustn’t rush. I was going to rush to make it to the deadline. I realized that’d compromise the quality of my work and my chances of winning. I want to dish out the very best I can give of myself, by myself.

I cannot give my best if I rush to a deadline without having much time to revise. Sad, but the wattys will have to wait for me.

Me with my fantasy novel lmaooo

so i wrote the start of a piece fiction inspired by Frankenstein

it's a mlm, slightly horror, love story between an amoral scientist and his best friend who tragically dies at the start of the book

i'm obsessed with this story as it's the first bit of writing that made my teacher recognise my love for writing

it's called white fang as the prompt for the story was to use a pre-existing title so white fang by jack london

I can't stand how amazing The Queen of Nothing is!!

I need a whole new series just about Cardan's and Jude's relationship. They are just perfect!

"Cherie, keep walking. Shut your eyes. We are headed for the bridge. We are going to cross it."

-Joyce Carol Oates, After the Wreck, I Picked Myself Up, Spread My Wings, and Flew Away

Hello from your friendly neighborhood Book Wench!

Since I’m the first of us slackers to actually post something on here, I figured I’d go ahead and introduce myself and our blog and what we’re about!

So, About Us:

The Book Wenches are a collective of fantastic booksellers, former coworkers, and eternal friends Alia, Claire, Jo Ann, Marita, Melissa, and Tori. Life has drawn several of us away from our beloved bookstore to distant and varied lands of the book industry. Thus out of a desire to keep in touch and to keep each other updated on the books we love, this blog was created!

While you will certainly encounter a wide range of genres, age levels, and interests here, we are all deeply invested in reading and promoting diversity in literature and are huge fans and supporters our faves @weneeddiversebooks.

We’ll be here to talk with you about what we’re reading–what’s new, what’s classic, what’s yet to be…and what’s good.

About Me:

Oh hey, I’m Tori! I’m 25, biracial, and coming to you live from the coffee shop I work in when I’m not out peddling books.

I primarily read Young/New Adult, but you can also expect a good deal of Middle Grade, some picture books, and occasionally an adult book or two (my attention span isn’t really capable of handling anything over 300 pages). The vast majority of what I read is Fantasy and Science Fiction (I am a sucker for a good fairy tale retelling), with a little Romance thrown in. I’m also a big fan of comics and graphic novels.

My favorite book of all time is The Two Princesses of Bamarre. The best book I read this year was Welcome to Night Vale (@welcometonightvalebook). The book I’m most excited about in 2016 is Catherine Egan’s Julia Vanishes (seriously guys, it is so good–I plan to read it at least twice more before it comes out in June)

Let's be friends

The Color of Love Blog Hop

The Color of Love Blog Hop

Oh how excited we are to participate in our first Color of Love Blog Hop. We’ve been following it for a few years now(Libertad even one a grand prize one year, talk about luck) and it was an exciting moment to finally be an author on the roster of such seasoned writers as well as some of our favorite Romance bloggers.

Look of that list of people below and would you look at the prizes being…

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