“Health inequities are caused by poverty, racism, lack of medical care, and other social forces” (162). Don’t dismiss this slim work by notable fiction writer John Green. Green’s voice lends a thoughtful albeit simmering overview of the treatable and preventable leading cause of death in the world. Due to the aforementioned health inequalities, TB is still very much alive and deadly in low- and middle-income countries. Woven with the heart-wrenching story of Henry, this work is a must-read for its humanity and care.

Lauren Asher really likes to pack a punch in the third book of her trilogies and this one is no different. Some really tough topics were handled with care including OCD, mental illness, grief, and trauma. I liked the dynamic of the two characters. Despite them seeming at such odds in the previous two books they really worked well together. If you're looking for smut, this one isn't it, as it takes all the way until almost page 380, though it is well-written when it does arrive. However, if you want some deep conversations and deep emotions, this one hits home.

I cried reading the final pages of this poignant and lovely memoir. Spanning from the 1960s through the 2020s it is a tribute to grief and anger, but also to love. India is not only the backdrop but an entire character, nearly as colossal as Mary Roy (the author’s mother and often main character). It is a wonder that we even have the chance to read this memoir given how much life Arundhati has lived—at least triple that of an average person. I’m thankful for that opportunity. Lucky, even.

One of my favorite quotes: "It wasn't nostalgia that took me back so much as the desire to exorcise some of my old ghosts by looking them in the eye, and to hang on to others, to tell the of my great escape. That I learned, is impossible. We either house all our ghosts as I do, or unhouse them all, as my brother does. There's no bargaining with ghosts." (Page 272)

Absolutely gruesome, but I couldn’t put it down. The quaint, pastel art style of a children’s storybook lulls the reader into a sense of security before suddenly two pages of serial killer horror shock you back into the story. It’s this juxtaposition that makes this graphic novel really imaginative, alongside a surprisingly likeable main character, and a plot worthy of a Dexter episode. Great for anyone who ever imagined what it’d be like if the Berenstain Bears or Winnie the Pooh were secret killers.