Happy Sunday!
Boy, is it bleak out there. Is there anything worse than a cold March day?
Get over it already, Winter. Your moment has come and gone!
My reading (and writing) always takes a hit this time of year. I am simply too busy staring out the window and trying to remember what it’s like to feel the sun.
Seasonal depression clings to the butt of this month like a dingleberry.
That was a gross metaphor, but it’s too late to change it now. I have no proofreaders anyway.
This newsletter is lawless!
I am unhinged!
This is March Madness in its most literal and nerdiest form!
Please, for the love of God, let there be blue skies soon!!
Onto the books…
This month’s theme is ‘imaginative depression,' meaning books that are sad in new and unusual ways.
No commonplace doomscrolls or family tragedies here! We’ve got a killer lineup of…
Children fighting to the death for sport!
A magical woman being held captive by her husband!!
Anthropomorphized mental health monsters that consume people whole!!!
A series of suicide note drafts!!!!
There are endless ways to be miserable, and I’m here to bring you options.
🕷️ The Monsters in Our Shadows, Edward J. Cembal (3.5)
A dystopian future where some humans have ‘Shivers’ — personal, Peter Pan-style shadow monsters that grow until they inevitably eat their hosts — and the rest of civilization does their best to ignore it.
This book’s opening had me locked in. I was ready to be ruined. I mentally prepared to have my mind blown with depression metaphors. What a friggin’ premise!
Sadly, I lost interest as the plot moved along. There were some interesting discussions around navigating the Shivers, but the book was way more fantasy and adventure-forward than I expected. This is apparently being developed into a film, which I think is the right medium for this story — super visual and plot-driven — where I would have loved a more emotional and psychological interpretation of this concept.
This book was also a debut (y’all know I’m obsessed with a good debut!) Edward, I can’t wait to see what you come up with next.
🐀 We Could Be Rats, Emily Austin (4)
A story split between two sisters — one contemplating suicide, the other grappling with her sister’s mental health.
If there was ever a book that, based on title alone, I should love, it’s this one. Just read this excerpt:
“If I could have picked what I was born to be, I would be a fat little rat at a fair. I would ride the Ferris wheel all night. All the carnival lights would reflect in my happy, beady eyes. I would feast on candy apple cores, discarded peanuts, and melon rinds. I would spook the ladies and carnival workers for kicks. When the lights went out, and the gates were shut, I would scurry around on the ground, rummage through the trash cans, and squeak happily with my rat pals. I would live to be about two years old, which is as long as most rats live. I would get my money’s worth out of my little rat lifespan, and I would leave the earth happy to have been there.”
If that ain’t me….
Despite the rodent-centric prose, I didn’t love this book at first. The voice bugged me, and I couldn’t figure out the point UNTIL EMILY AUSTIN CLOBBERED ME at the halfway point. No spoilers, but this one really caught me off guard. For that reason — and also because this book is a crisp 256 pages — I’m recommending it to everyone. Scurry over to your local bookstore now!
🦭 A Sweet Sing of Salt, Rose Sutherland (3.5)
The Selkie Wife folktale reimagined as a sapphic love story.
Another debut! This one was set in 1800s Nova Scotia, which is perfectly March-level bleak. The writing was beautiful and featured some of my favourite things: harsh scenery, gothic undertones, yearning, folklore references, and sea creatures. Yes, yes, yes!
The pacing, however, was quite slow. It felt even more drawn out because I was never surprised by the plot. Why? This book is billed as a retelling of The Selkie Wife, but the love interest being a selkie is the “twist” at the end…
Rose, baby, don’t give it all away for free. Let us guess a little!
I wish I liked this book more, but my disappointment was entirely rectified by this Goodreads review:
☀️ Sunrise on the Reaping, Suzanne Collins (4)
Haymitch’s trauma origin story featuring every Hunger Games character cameo you can think of.
Listen. Anything Suzanne Collins wants to add to the Hunger Games series, I will eat up like a little piggie in slop. Oink oink oink, Suzanne! Keep it coming! This disgusting ham is smackin’ her lips for more!!
Now that that’s outta the way… I do have thoughts. Sunrise on the Reaping was clearly built for goop-guzzling fans like me. Every few pages, there was a new parallel or reference made to make us scream “squee squee squee” and stamp our little hooved feet. Did it work? Absolutely! Did it add anything to the universe??? Meh…
The real ones already knew what would happen since Katniss and Peeta studied Haymitch’s Games in the original series. Suzanne had to do some revisionist history to add new details to the story. By contrast, The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes was a completely new view into the history of the Games (and into the psyche of one of the most iconic villains of all time). If anything, I wish this prequel had spent more time with Haymitch in the years between winning the Games and the uprising with Katniss. Instead, those 25 years are glossed over in a few pages about his alcoholism.
Did I still cry like a baby? Yeah.
Did I spend this whole book picturing teenage Haymitch as present-day Woody Harrelson? Double yeah.
Should you read this book? Absolutely. And why not reread the whole series while you’re at it?
Looking for the perfect book? Let me play matchmaker!
I’m here to help you find your next funny, sexy, emotional, or “what the fuck was that” page-turner.
This is my plea to become your book selection private eye — like Veronica Mars if she were a giant nerd.
Submit your request, and I’ll share my recs in a future My Side Plot newsletter👇
Last Thought
Epilogue
What did you read this month?
Is March grinding you down, too?
Anything I should add to my TBR?
Do you agree with my reviews!? Tell me I’m right! Tell me I’m wrong! Send me hate mail! Engage, god dammit!