One Dark Window was a fun read, eventhough the main character annoyed me to no end. Her feeble comprehension (not my words) really tested my patience. The magic system was definitely unique and I still enjoy her writing style (although I missed the humour and fun banter in this one 🙁). I ended up having some of the same issues with this one as I did with The Knight and The Moth, though this one felt comparatively more enjoyable in hindsight. i. e. I find myself intrigued enough to read book 2, can’t say the same about TKATM 🫣

I think Rachel Gillig’s worldbuilding is severely lacking, something I felt in both books. While that may not bother everyone, it puts me off (especially initially, you know what they say about first impressions). Without smaller, grounding details, I never felt anchored in the setting. Gillig doesn’t spend much time letting us see the world through the characters’ eyes. You know those casual moments where characters walk through cobbled streets, glance at familiar landmarks, or interact with their surroundings in ways that make a place feel lived-in? Here, those moments are so fleeting (insubstantial) that it feels like we’re jumping forward in time to get to the next piece of action. As a result, the world feels compressed and uneven, and it undermines the gravity of the situations. Everything ended up feeling a little cartoonish and unserious.

Still, once I tried to let go of those frustrations and just…rolled with the story, it became a fast-paced, easy read. Fun enough to get through quickly, but nothing for me to write home about.

This was surprisingly good 😮 I went in with the lowest expectations, because I honestly haven’t found many books in this genre that rate above 3.5⭐️ for me.

Gillian McAllister drops you right into the story (no slow buildups here!). It’s genius, because she manages to weave all of that as the plot unfolds (backwards!). The characters are well-developed too, with a depth that’s been missing from a lot of crime thrillers I’ve read recently. Jen’s motivation and actions feel entirely believable, and McAllister captures her heartbreak, shock, love, and confusion in an almost raw, unfiltered way. It reads like an authentic inner monologue of someone re-examining every decision that led to tragedy.

You might be able to guess a few of the twists before they happen, but that didn’t take away from the experience for me. Everything just worked together really well, clever concept and solid execution.

My first impression was great. I absolutely loved the balance of dark humour and brutality. The satire on religion was sharp and genuinely funny, and the character dynamics were such a highlight. Who doesn’t love a band of misfits that barely tolerate each other, forced to go on a mission? Their banter was gold, and the characters are raw and complex. Joe Abercrombie reveals them layer by layer, slowly and steadily throughout the story. I’d say this one is more character-driven than quest- or worldbuilding-focused.

That said, it wasn’t always an easy read. Each chapter felt like a bit of a task to get through, partly because of the dense, lore-heavy language. It took me longer than usual to find my footing in this world. Even after settling into it, I found some of the descriptions hard to wrap my head around, possibly due to my lack of familiarity with the theological and archaic terminology the author uses so heavily. There were moments where the prose felt oddly specific yet somehow vague, like it gave me too much detail and not enough clarity at the same time.

The pacing and structure added to that feeling. The book felt very long and very short all at once. The quiet moments between battles were so brief compared to the extended fight scenes that the timeline itself seemed compressed, making the overall experience a little uneven.

Still, even with all that, I had a great time. The group dynamics, the dark humour, and the almost blasphemous edge made for an undeniably entertaining read. I was here for the chaos, and Joe Abercrombie delivered on that front.

Beautiful writing, I am in awe. The way Erin Morgenstern writes is so whimsical, almost like the magic and the ethereal essence of her fantasy world live in her prose more than in any magic system or setting. The world she built feels like a refuge, intricate and filled with a quiet kind of magic that stays with you. I felt the need to protect the Starless Sea and its many harbours, the longing to know what it must have been like, the regret for missing the right time—just as her characters did. No, I am not exaggerating; it really felt like I had a stake in the world.

However, as much as I loved the writing itself, I found the pacing a little challenging to get through. I was completely absorbed in the first half, but then the pace stayed stagnant until everything began to unravel at the end. However magical the prose remained, that lull made it harder to stay fully immersed and slightly lowered my overall enjoyment.

By the time I reached the end, my understanding seemed to unravel along with the story. I followed everything in the beginning and middle, but somewhere along the way, it slipped through my fingers (I didn’t really mind). It somehow felt right for a story built on mystery and wonder to end that way, like it was never meant to be fully understood, only felt.