3.85 average · 613 reviews
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This is not spoiler free.
I feel like all new authors should read this, Sara Hashem and Rachel Gillig to understand how to write fantasy novels.
What can I even tell you. This book was perfection in every sense. From the world building to character development. Every sentence revealed something, every dialogue had a purpose and every character wedged their way into your heart... Well not every character. The way this book is a series of butterfly effects just put together perfectly to form the best high fantasy novel I've read in a while. From Yasila being kept by Jadu and her people to Yana being exiled to Cain being possessed by the fox. Every piece was leading to something. The pacing is slow but so worth it.
And the fact of the matter is, the author managed to make this a character driven as well as a plot driven book. Do you know how hard that is to do? Neema's razor sharp wit and need to be precise; somehow she's exactly like Sol, and Cain's cunning and humour, Benna's sweetness and courage and Loyalty, Andren's ambition to Ruko's conflict. The way I was rooting for Ruko in the end. And the way all of this is SHOWED not TOLD. The world unfolds in front of you through various eyes.
And I love creatures that characters form a bond to. And I loved the fox and the raven. And then the plot twists after plot twists had my jaw dropping to the floor and despite the use of modern swear words here and there, it fit. The political intrigue was just enough that you felt the stakes but weren't completely overwhelmed by it. And the humour was subtle and sudden enough that I scoffed multiple times throughout the books, genuinely baffled and entertained. This book was perfection. No notes.


I genuinely do not understand how this book has 4.1 stars. I will not be taking questions.
Let's start with the terminology, because it broke my brain from page one. The gods are gone. In their place, we have, and I quote, players. Not gods. Players. When you hear that word, what do you picture? A gamer Because I promise you, your mind does not jump to actors in a theatre production. The in-universe logic is that they perform in plays, therefore they are players. Sure. Except we do not call actors players. We do not even call theatre actors players. We call it a play because it is play-acting, but the people doing it are called actors. This is not a radical linguistic stance. This is just how language works. And yet, for the entire book, every time someone said "player," my brain short-circuited trying to remember they meant a person on a stage and not someone respawning in a video game.
Our main character is introduced as chronically ill, frail, coughing, visibly fragile. Sound familiar? Because it should, because this is giving very much Violet from Fourth Wing. Frail girl, big world, constant reminders of her physical limitations. Fine, it's a trope, I can work with tropes. What I cannot work with is the book immediately forgetting about said illness the moment plot convenience requires it. She holds her own in a fight against Mattia, a player, allegedly very powerful, and her illness simply does not factor in. She is finally thwarted because of a chandelier and not Mattia, the all powerful player. We do not know at this point that she is a player. All we have been told she is in a mortal body being ravaged by sickness. And then in the very next breath, she is not being demolished by someone with supernatural ability. Why? How? The book does not say. The book does not care.
Now. The world building.
It is bad. It is really, genuinely, catastrophically bad, and I have questions that this book had 500-something pages to answer and simply chose not to. Why Greek gods? Is this a Greek myth retelling? It does not present itself as one, but then why are we working with this pantheon? And if we are in a Greek mythology-adjacent world — how are the gods dead? What killed them? How did the players emerge to replace them? What is the Script, how does it work, how did Silenas find it, how did he drain the well, and how did he convince an entire faction of supposedly powerful beings to follow him? Are the players just stupid? Are they not supposed to be exceptional? Nothing. We get nothing.
And it gets worse. We are told Dionysus is gone, replaced by players. Fine. But then Mattia kills a beast of Artemis with her bare hands. Artemis. So Artemis is still operational? If the other gods are alive, why are they not involved? If they are dead too, who replaced them? Are players filling every divine role, or only Dionysus's? Because if it is only Dionysus, he is the god of theatre, not of all art everywhere. So how is Riven growing up in a world without music, without song, without colour? Colour? She grew up in a black and white world? Is that literal? Metaphorical? The book does not clarify, it just throws the line out and moves on.
What is craft? Did the gods have it? Did it originate with the players? How are contracts binding in this universe? What is the mechanism? Why does Nyxene protect Silenas above all else — what is her motivation, her backstory, anything? Why is the world divided at the canyon? What does the north-south split actually mean culturally, politically, historically? Why does the canyon exist?
I kept thinking about The Everlasting by Alix E. Harrow, which does a similar thing, stories as power, narrative as control, and does it brilliantly, because it gives you the why. Holding the narrative matters for propaganda, for nationalism, for the machinery of empire. There is a foundation. Here, Silenas traps the players because he wants power and wants to tell stories (what is the importance of stories in this world? We don't know BECAUSE THE BOOK DOESN'T SAY. And why can they travel and listen to "prayers" through mirrors?) Just power. That is it. No class resentment, no origin wound, no ideology, just power, presented as self-evident motivation, and we are expected to find it compelling.
The comparisons to other books do not stop there, by the way. The canyon dividing north and south is giving Shadow and Bone fold energy so aggressively that I had to put the book down for a moment. The Darkling wanted to expand his territory. Silenas wants to expand his territory. Riven was planted, resurrected in a new body, again, the Darkling. The cut, the fold. It's not original. Worse. It wasn't even done well.
The trials, which were mentioned in the first few pages, do not happen. The contenders die and I felt absolutely nothing, which tells you everything about how well this book builds character investment. The ensemble I was expecting , Hunger Games-style, multiple contenders, rising tension, because there are TRIALS, is just side characters who get killed off. The author had 500 pages and they served me NOTHING. My plate is empty your honour.
The one plot twist I will credit: Riven being a player. Fine. Good. That lands. Everything else was telegraphed so early and so obviously that I was just waiting for the book to catch up to what I had already figured out two acts prior. A character who does mimicry and a player who could not be found anywhere? I wonder — I truly wonder — who the hidden player could be. A book called The Script? I wonder what the plot twist could be.
The only reason this is 1.5 stars and not 0 is that Jude is cocky and I have a weakness for cocky characters. That is the entire defence. That is all I have.
Edit: @Sandiera kindly pointed out that player is a word for actor and I did not know that! Y'all can ignore that part of my review!


Okay, so I did enjoy How to Write a Love Story by Catherine Walsh. I thought the characters were well developed, and I really liked the plot. Who doesn’t love a good forced proximity trope? That said, at the beginning, I genuinely felt like Ciara and Sam had no chemistry. I was thinking, what the fuck is this?
But I appreciated that Walsh took the time to develop both characters individually before bringing them together. And she really made me eat my words, because by the end, they had incredible chemistry. What made this a mediocre book for me, though, was the ending.
The premise has so much potential. Ciara is trying to finish her father’s fantasy series after he dies before completing the final book. She is struggling under the weight of his legacy, and Sam, her editor, is sent to help her because he's a huge fan of Frank Sheridan and his books. There is so much here that could have been explored more deeply. Walsh could have delved a lot more into grief and into what it means for Ciara to choose herself rather than continue carrying the burden of her father’s legacy. She is constantly compared to him and pressured to finish the series. That is an enormous weight to bear.
I think the most powerful ending would have been for Ciara to decide not to finish the tenth book. She could have accepted that this incomplete ending is all readers are going to get, and that they have to make peace with that. Sometimes authors need to choose themselves, and they are not obligated to satisfy readers at the expense of their own well-being, especially in circumstances like this. Instead, she and Sam fall in love, there's a borderline miscommunication trope, a dramatic incident at the house in which Ciara loses all of her father’s papers, after which she's able to write and manages to finish the book on time.
That ending felt too safe to me.
It also seemed to contradict one of the book’s own ideas. At one point, Sam encourages Ciara to take the story to darker places because she is capable of it. I think Catherine Walsh was capable of that as well. It could have been taken into a direction where it is okay for authors to walk away from a story, even one that means so much to so many people.
Yes, I understand that this is a romance. But I actually think it would have been more romantic if Ciara had chosen not to complete the series. The most meaningful love story, in my opinion, would have been one where Sam, a devoted fan of the books, comes to terms with her decision and supports her anyway. That would have shown a deeper kind of love: accepting someone’s choice to prioritize their own emotional well-being, even when it means letting go of something deeply cherished.
So overall, I did enjoy the book. It had strong characters, a compelling setup, and a satisfying romantic arc. But I think it had the potential to be truly great, and it ultimately played things too safe to reach that level.






























