THE MINISTRY OF TIME has an interesting premise: time travel, secret government research focused on humans, and assimilating characters from different time periods into the current age. however, i do feel as though it struggles a bit to its footing. for one, this toes the line of historical spec fic and self-insert fanfiction. i was actually greatly enjoying graham's relationship/budding friendship with the main character (who btw doesn't have a name for whatever reason) prior to the main character developing feelings for him. people can write what they want when they want, but to package together a book that you sell containing scenes in which you (the main character/narrator) have sex with an actual historical figure is kind of bonkers. this could have easily been resolved by creating a fictional character. the romanticization of historical figures feels...off for me. especially when the fact that he's from a time where black people were slaves, and he just...accepts that non-white people are ok now? there was very little pushback against the concept of black people being people? idk. it felt a little gratuitous and unrealistic, but maybe i'm too nitpicky. for another, the pacing feels extremely off—and the front half is extremely slow and the latter third is progressively jam-packed. for what it's worth, i did enjoy the conversations that the main character and graham had as he made sense of the world. particularly the discussions surrounding race/ethnicity, the horrors of what we call "history" (that graham had no idea happened), and the nuanced ruminations on gender/sexuality/identity. i think this book would have been far stronger if it leaned into either the cultural meditation side of things OR the espionage/political/action-packed side of things. not saying you can't have both, but to frontload the story with mostly slow slice-of-life scenes that i felt transitioned choppily from one to the next then to switch to action plot is a bit disorienting. the plot itself wasn't the most original for time period pieces but definitely had potential. i just wished it felt more balanced. in addition, i felt that the writing style swayed between whimsical literary and too modern? if that makes sense? which makes it very confusing. i actually think this (ironically) would have had much stronger writing had bradley nixed pop culture speak and stuck with her literary voice. the random drops of millennial speak pulled me out of the story. for a debut, this is decent for me to have finished, but not compelling enough for me to reread.

this may very well be the only book I don't leave a rating for. this memoir is an honest, raw, and vulnerable glimpse into the life of someone whose addiction has disrupted his entire life. Matthew Perry pulled no punches. in the wake of his death, this is particularly painful to read, given that he appears to have made peace with his sobriety at the end of the memoir. but addictions are not linear, nor is recovery from addiction, and Perry was honest about that. this was messy and disjointed, more a series of vignettes that are loosely told in chronological order, but flipping back and forth with his more recent brushes with death. there are clear consequences to his addiction: broken relationships, interferences with his career, and god, the physical ramifications from years of abusing drugs and alcohol made my stomach churn. you may find Perry to be insufferable, selfish, and needy in these pages, and he certainly painted a brutal picture of himself. but he also portrayed his insecurities, his fears, and his flaws so well that you cannot help but want to listen to him, just a little more. one thing that struck me was the warmth with which he recalls shooting his first movie alongside River Phoenix—who also passed away too young due to drug use—and the time he spent filming Friends. despite his addiction, Perry genuinely loved acting. he seems to have poured his whole heart into writing those parts. acting wasn't just a job or a calling; it was a lifeline. the tie between his addiction to drugs and his addiction to attention (see also: acting) is very clearly depicted. whether or not his addiction to acting/attention/drawing laughs was healthy, Perry doesn't shy away from how much he clung to it. this read less like a memoir and more like I was reading a long confessional letter from a friend. which, I suppose, Matt Perry was to anyone who watched Friends.