Category: Book Reviews

★★★☆☆

This one took me a while to get into. The first half felt slow and disjointed, like I was reading two completely separate stories and waiting for the threads to finally tie together. I will give it credit for tackling postpartum depression and psychosis—that’s not something you see explored in a lot of thrillers. But let’s be real: if this character hadn’t been rich, she would’ve been arrested. No question.

And somehow the whole town managed to keep a life-altering secret from her for nine years? That stretched believability a bit far, even for me. By the time the ending rolled around, I found myself blinking at the page thinking, Really? That’s where we’re leaving this? It wasn’t bad exactly, just… odd.

Glad I finished it, but I won’t be racing to revisit it.

★★★★★

Holly Jackson is a master of creating suspense. I wasn’t sure how she was going to handle an adult title, but she more than exceeded my expectation. I’m not afraid to say I bawled my eyes out reading the last handful of chapters. You know what’s going to happen at the end, you know Jet is going to die, but I kept waiting for the miracle to happen. The fact that she finally “lived” when she only had a week left, the fact that she realized the boy next store was meant for her all along…. then finally finding out who killed her a week before she died…. Holly Jackson makes you feel all the feels.

★★★★☆

Note: This book doesn’t release until September 2025

Fermentation books can be hit or miss—either too simplistic and safe, or so complex they feel like a lab manual written for people who casually keep a koji chamber in their basement. (Noma, I’m glaring at you.) Ferment by Kenji Morimoto manages to strike that rare balance: accessible without dumbing it down, detailed without being condescending, and with enough inspiration to make even a seasoned fermenter reach for a clean jar.

This book focuses primarily on small-batch lactofermentation—my personal sweet spot—but also dips a careful toe into koji, with just enough depth to intrigue without overwhelming. There’s even a section on pickling, which at first felt slightly out of place, but ultimately serves as a smart contrast. Morimoto doesn’t just tell you there’s a difference between pickling and fermentation—he shows it. That’s something a lot of books gloss over, and I respect the clarity.

Now, let’s talk criteria:

Photos:
Look, in a fermentation book, photos matter. Especially for beginners. People need to see the difference between harmless kahm yeast and mold that should send your jar straight to the compost. While Ferment includes a decent number of photos, I’d love to see more images of things going wrong. The whole “when in doubt, throw it out” line just doesn’t cut it for me without visual context. That said, most books fail this test, so I’m not holding it too harshly against this one.

Measurements:
This is where Morimoto wins serious points. He uses weight-based measurements throughout—because let’s be honest, anything else in fermentation is a guessing game you don’t want to play. He also lays out brine calculations and salt percentages in a way that actually makes sense. Beginner-friendly without being patronizing. Clear. Practical. Well done.

Recipe Quality:
The real test: how many recipes do I actually want to make? With Ferment—almost all of them. That doesn’t happen often. A few are too funky for my personal tastes, sure, but there were several that made me stop mid-page and say “I need to make that.” That immediate, gut-level yes is rare, and this book earned it.

Bonus Points:
The final section? Recipes that actually use the ferments you’ve made. Finally. So many fermentation books stop at “congratulations, here’s your jar of preserved magic” and leave you guessing how to use it. Ferment connects the dots and brings it full circle. That alone makes it worth adding to my shelf and to the library.

★★★★★

Find this book in StarCat

Alex North does it yet again. He is a master at weaving a great tale, leading in one direction until the truth smacks you in the face. The Man Made of Smoke is no different. After a brush with the “Pied Piper” as a kid, Dan does everything he can to forget the small boy he could have saved that day. Running away from the island he called his home, Dan becomes a criminal profiler who spends his days psychoanalyzing violent inmates. When the apparent suicide of his father brings Dan back to the island, Dan must unravel the clues his father was leaving behind.

The repeating line of “Nobody Sees, and nobody cares,” drives home the fact that humanity only pays attention to the people they think matter. Could the “Pied Piper” have been caught years earlier if someone at the rest stop other than Dan had just paid attention? I guess we’ll never really know.

A bit of a slow burn in the beginning, but by half way through, I couldn’t put it down.