How We Named the Stars by Andrés N. Ordorica

Rating: ★★★

Disclaimer: I received a free copy of this book for review from Netgalley. Thank you to Tin House Books.

I believe the prologue of How We Named the Stars is absolutely beautiful. I cried a little when I read it the first time, and then read it again when I finished the book. The entire book itself is full of beautiful, emotional writing. When I finished, I discovered Ordorica is a poet, so that makes sense.

With that said, I want to say the book lacks substance because so much relies on language alone. Most of the book is just paragraphs of Daniel’s, the narrator, thoughts. Not exactly much happens until the third part. Until then, so much is just what’s in his head. However, it’s difficult to say the book lacks substance since the point seems to be emotional, not plot-focused. Still, it fell flat for me.

Speaking of the plot, essentially it’s supposed to be adjacent to a love story between Daniel and Sam. At least, that’s how I feel. Perhaps others would say it’s a full-on love story. But as I said, so much is in Daniel’s head. I find it hard to discuss this without spoilers, but the links between Daniel and others felt weak. If more time was spent with those other characters, where we as readers see them being themselves instead of Daniel telling us about them, perhaps the links would feel stronger. Besides Daniel and Sam, and really just Daniel, there is nothing to be said of these characters. I know nothing about them or their development. With Sam, I had trouble understanding why Sam felt the way he did. It was like, it just happened because it needed to be that way for the book. There was no development of character or feelings.

In the third part of the book, things change in many ways and there are so many scenes with other people. People talking and things happening. This was like a breath of fresh air. To be honest, while reading the first and second parts, I was getting frustrated. It was Daniel’s constant thoughts. If there was a scene with dialogue, each line was followed by a paragraph of Daniel’s thoughts. I didn’t know if the whole book would be this way, but I didn’t want to give up. The prose itself was lovely.

I guess all of this boils down to the old adage of “show don’t tell.” This book almost solely tells us what is going on. It was disappointing. My frustration would rate it two stars, but my feelings while reading Ordorica’s use of language would give it four stars. Normally, a three star rating from me usually means it’s a middling book. But I can’t say that’s the case here. There are two strong reactions to this book, and three stars is just the average.

Bodies of Water by V.H. Leslie

Rating: ★★

I recently decided to start reading shorter books so I could finish a story. In 2022, finishing a story was often impossible for me. I read Bodies of Water in about a month and it’s only 130 pages. I’m happy with that, and I hope I can continue to finish stories throughout the year.

This may be the first review I’ve done with spoilers. My issues with the story can only be addressed in that way. But before spoilers, let me explain the premise: Kirsten is living in present day and just moved into an apartment complex which was used as a hydrotherapy hospital in the 1870s. It’s close to the river, and Kirsten is fascinated by the water. But then strange things start happening. Every other chapter is from Kirsten’s point-of-view. The other chapters are Evelyn, who is a patient at the hydrotherapy hospital in the 1870s. In my opinion, her chapters are much more interesting with much more happening. There are more characters and action.

In general, though, the book is filled with exposition which gets very boring. The author also uses the word “water” and/or “river” in almost every single paragraph. I felt like I was getting hit over the head with something, and I just don’t know what it was. The story doesn’t connect any dots to really say anything. At the end, there are some lines about women being confined across centuries and needing the wide space of the river to, I’m not sure, have their own space?

SPOILER WARNING: After finishing the book, I realized my biggest issue is the lack of connection. There is nothing between Kirsten and Evelyn, other than Wakewater Hospital/Apartments. Kirsten’s story ends up being about satisfying the needs of female water spirits who are murderous, and for some reason water is leaking in all over Wakewater. There is no reason given for this. On Evelyn’s side, there is no mention of such water spirits until the very end, and even then they’re not murderous. Evelyn just sees them in the river. Kirsten apparently is seeing the character of Milly who was Evelyn’s lover, but why? Why is Milly out for an offering in the present day?

The more I write this, the more I am annoyed. I feel like the author wrote half the book and then didn’t know what to do. Or maybe they wrote Evelyn’s side since it was so much more interesting, and then needed something else and came up with Kirsten.

I’m giving this two stars instead of one because I really only give one star reviews to books I don’t finish. I obviously do not recommend it since it falls flat. It leaves you with questions, but not the curious kind. They’re the kind of questions that arise when a story doesn’t make sense from beginning to end.

Real Queer America: LGBT Stories from Red States by Samantha Allen

Rating: ★★★★

I’ve wanted to read more queer stories for a long while, so picking up this travel memoir was very refreshing. It’s about queer people in “red states,” where many people probably don’t think queer people are. Or if they do, they think they’re miserable and oppressed. That’s not an invalid idea, but Real Queer America shows that there are queer communities thriving in red states. Utah, Texas, Georgia. I’ll be honest: I don’t want to visit these places. But there are people there working hard for inclusion, community, and the right to just live. This book made me teary in many places, and I enjoyed reading it. It was an easy read, and though the writing felt disjointed in some places, I liked how Allen connected the lives she was learning about and the places she was exploring to her own life. That made it feel connected to me, that somehow I am also connected to these red state queer communities. I’m nonbinary, I’m queer, and I’ve been looking for community. It’s hard to find for lots of reasons, but this book helped me see that it’s out there. People are working for it. In the end, this book changed my perspective on queer people in red states. I don’t want to just give up on red states altogether. I want to help them change and be more accepting. I want to help the people there who are already doing the work.