My initial observation stands: like biting into a cupcake that’s mostly frosting. And like, not super high-end frosting, the stuff that’s mostly sugar and vegetable oil. Not the worst thing in the world but on a pretty far trajectory from the best.

To be clear to @aeleis, who worried I would hate this, I did not hate this. I can absolutely see the appeal of this book and I had hopes it’d be a surprising little treat. I’m going to try not to let my annoyance that the author namechecked AO3 tags in the afterward color my entire review, but the truth is, even if Máire Roche had not outright said it, its influences were clear. And also written on the back. So. Y’know.

I think there are some pretty good scenes in this book, and Roche’s writing style is approachable and fine on a technical level. I’m fine with predictable tropes and a lighthearted tone, but I fear this book has the same issues a lot of fanfic-like books are, in that the author clearly had some strong ideas for a few squee-inciting moments, and the rest of the work that must now exist to prop up the those moments is just not as well-considered or interesting as those tastier moments. This works in fanfiction because readers are already familiar with the characters, but I felt we didn’t have enough time to fall in love with Mo and Juniper before throwing them into Situations.

The primary tension between the two main characters is introduced too late in the story – it’s not like it was hard to guess, so I think that starting the book with that point of conflict, so that readers had context for what they needed to grow past, would have helped the book a lot and amped up the tension between the two. I also think we could have spent a bit more time establishing their lives together, their history together, making the inciting incident that sends the two on their quest to feel as though it was built up from somewhere aside from, “[x] always happens but this time it resulted in [y].”

To be honest, I think the developmental editor failed Roche here, because the talent is there, it just wasn’t aimed where I think it could’ve been. The book felt a little uncertain of its own tone. If it was going to have ridiculous little pop-culture references, awesome, I thought that, and a few of the other jokes, were pretty funny. I’m not beyond a dumb joke, anyone who knows me IRL could tell you. However, it didn’t feel like a consistent throughline. Either we’re living by Shrek or Princess Bride or Terry Pratchett terms or we’re not.

What makes a book funny? That is entirely subjective, but I think, to me, it has to do with sincerity. To me, comedy is best when people are very bought in to whatever they’re doing and don’t realize when things are ridiculous or funny. Once a character, or the narrative, understands that a situation doesn’t make sense, it feels arbitrary, and you’re running the risk of it just being a frustrating or even tragic situation. There are some writers who can make pushing back against the narrative work through tone and character voice, but I don’t think this was accomplished here.

Depending so much on the wish-fulfillment aspects of fanfiction has its pitalls. If the entire relationship between author and reader is predicated on a hyper-specific specific promise (in the form of a trope), then the goal should be to under-promise and over-deliver the goods. To me, these types of books are like trying to order my favorite comfort dish at a restaurant. There are a lot of reasons I might not just cook it for myself or repeat that meal at the place I know does it really great, but the hope is always that it’s really delicious and maybe even my new favorite way to enjoy the dish. It honestly doesn’t have to be the most amazing execution in the world for me to like it, but on the other hand, I’ll go into things feeling like I already understand what makes this dish succeed and I’ll feel even more disappointed if it doesn’t do what I had hoped. If this is supposed to be my favorite thing, that’s a separate set of expectations than if I order something new out of curiosity. Fried rice is pretty much guaranteed to be tasty considering its components and simplicity, but that means when it’s just a little not-as-good-as-it-could-be, it’s very noticeably bland.

I have a lot of big feelings about where we’re at regarding fanfiction that frankly wouldn’t be fair to lay on Roche’s debut. Her profile says she’s an English teacher so I sincerely hope she gets her bag and writes a dozen of these. I bet she’ll improve quickly. I probably won’t be reading more, though.

Incredibly touching and gut-wrenching all in the same breath, The Lion Women of Tehran tells the story of the most meaningful of bonds between women. It centers on what begins as a childhood friendship between two girls from different social classes in Tehran that persists across decades, various political regimes, and two countries set oceans apart. Spanning the various cultural and political upheavals in recent Iranian history, it highlights the strength and bravery of Iranian women - the shir zan, or lion women - forced to reckon with repressive governments, still fighting to obtain basic rights and freedoms even today.

I haven’t cried like that while reading a book in a long time, made into a blubbering mess by the time I finished the epilogue. It felt especially poignant in this current day and age and made my heart break for all the women across the world who do not have the same privileges I do to choose a future for themselves, regardless of what that future might be. This book’s ties into actual historical events felt both informative and emotionally moving, portraying the effect things like revolution and war can have on those forced to live through them. It’s one thing to read about these moments in a history textbook, isolated and far removed from them, and another to witness them through the eyes of women, even fictional ones.

While they may only be fictional characters, Ellie and Homa felt particularly real, particularly human - their characterization phenomenally well done. I grew so attached to them, their families, their hopes, their dreams, and especially the friendship between them (no matter how tumultuous it may have been at times - though that only served to further how very real it all felt). Their differences work well together, striking a very delicate balance as they lose contact at various points and yet still find their way back to each other. They aren’t one dimensional or stereotypical by any means, and through Marjan Kamali’s masterful writing, we get to witness them grow from young girls navigating the world to determined, resilient, and unwavering women, bearing the brunt of so much hardship and suffering. Despite all the difficulties that they are made to experience in the time we spend in their lives, this is ultimately a story about love and its ability to endure.

This was my favorite of the summer readalong books. It is something I can see myself returning to later and loving for a very long time.

I don't know how to describe it, but this read more like it should have been a graphic novel than a novella on its own, weirdly enough? Which implies the imagery is evocative, but the prose is actually quite simple and to-the-point. It felt more like the transcript of a comic/graphic novel, and was thus missing that other half of the medium's visual language and storytelling that would have gone with it and made the story "whole". But I guess it was successful nevertheless because I could picture it so clearly in a graphic novel way?

Regardless, I wasn't blown away, and I found it a little confusing at times, BUT enjoyed it well enough nonetheless. I'll also give it props that it was interesting enough that it makes me curious about the other standalone novellas, and if they expand on the world, but they aren't high priority reads for me at this time. I think it's worth giving a chance if the book sounds intriguing to you, since it's a pretty quick read!