MY ORIGINAL REVIEW OF THE NOVEL:

Within the first paragraph of Maggie Stiefvater's The Raven Boys, I was worried I had made a mistake. After all, the first things Maggie tells us about her female protagonist, Blue Sargent, is that she comes from a long line of psychics and that it's been foretold by said psychics that she'll eventually kill her true love with a kiss. Poor Blue has grown up with this grim specter and it's become even more frightful now that she's 18 and seriously interested in boys. At this point, I admit that my cynicism for young adult fiction took over. 

Ah shit, I thought, I just spent money for another tedious YA paranormal romance. There will be nothing for me in this novel but a rising sense of irritation.

Fortunately, I was dead wrong. 

The Raven Boys turned out to be a highly engaging novel which both surprised and pleased me by not indulging in the usual YA paranormal tropes about a demure girl with special powers who's loved by a contingent of dangerous, damaged bastards but is afraid to love them back. In fact, props to Stiefvater for not only providing authentic male characters, but also presenting young male culture as being both supportive and welcoming (because it can be, you know). 

The meat of the novel revolves around Blue's family gift and its connection to a mysterious energy corridor called a ley line which runs near her hometown of Henrietta, Virginia. Blue's not overtly clairvoyant  but when she visits the ley line on with her aunt on St. Mark's Eve — a night when the spirits of those who will die in the next year march by — she has a ghostly vision of a young man who identifies himself as "Gansey." As it turns out, "Gansey" is Richard "Dick" Campbell Gansey, III, a wealthy student at the prestigious Aglionby Academy. The students at the all-male prep school are cumulatively known as "raven boys" by the Henrietta natives who view them with a mixture of intolerance and envy. Blue would normally eschew "raven boys," partly because of their reputation, partly because of that whole I-will-kill-you-with-a-kiss thing. Instead, she's drawn into Gansey's circle and his obsessive quest for a legendary Welsh king called Gwendower he swears is buried someone along the ley line. According to myth, anyone who awakens the sleeping king will be granted a supernatural favor. Gansey's Gwendower fixation and Blue's ominous vision of the boy eventually culminate in an uneasy partnership shared by three other Aglionby students and — unbeknownst to all of them — their unscrupulous Latin professor.

Stiefvater's prose is rich and highly atmospheric, sometimes straying close to poetry in a way reminiscent of Neil Gaiman. Her vision of the fictional Henrietta, a southern town curiously populated by powerful psychics and affluent schoolboys, becomes a fascinating backdrop for a variety of subplots. Stiefvater should also be complemented for tying up enough loose threads to make The Raven Boys a satisfying novel on its own while simultaneously leaving enough unresolved so the reader is craving the next book in the cycle.

​Check this one out!

RELATED: Review of The Dream Thieves: The Raven Cycle Book 2

REVIEW OF THE RAVEN BOYS: THE GRAPHIC NOVEL

The Raven Boys Graphic Novel, adapted by Stephanie Williams and illustrated by Sas Milledge, breathes visual life into Maggie Stiefvater's bestselling YA supernatural fantasy, The Raven Boys. Originally published in 2012, the novel embarked readers on a mesmerizing journey through The Raven Cycle, a four-book saga steeped in myth and mystery. This graphic novel adaptation, released in August 2025, seeks to capture the enchantment and suspense that endeared the original to countless fans.

Williams's adaptation is a testament to the power of storytelling through visuals. The necessity of condensing Stiefvater's intricate plot into a graphic format inevitably simplifies certain elements, akin to a book being translated into a film. As a result, some of rich complexities, especially the nuanced relationships between the Aglionby Academy students—Gansey, Noah, Ronan, and Adam—and Blue, the girl entwined in their quest, are somewhat diminished. Despite this, the core narrative remains intact: a slowburn quest to find the legendary Welsh King Glendower and the looming prophecy over Gansey's tragic fate.

Sas Milledge's artwork employs heavy ink work and a limited color palette, perfectly complementing the novel's dark supernatural plot mixed with subplots about abuse, grief, trauma and murder. While Milledge's artistic interpretations may diverge from what readers of the original novel might have imagined, this divergence adds a unique dimension to the story, offering fresh perspectives on beloved characters.

Notably, the graphic novel retains the suspense and surprising twists that captivated readers in Stiefvater's original work. Whether you're a first-time reader or a long-time fan, this adaptation promises an engaging experience, allowing you to rediscover the magic and mystery of The Raven Boys through a new lens.
​
RELATED: Reviews of The Raven Boys (novel and graphic novel) |Review of The Dream Thieves: The Raven Cycle Book 2  |  Review of Blue Lily, Lily Blue: The Raven Cycle Book 3 | Review of The Raven King: The Raven Cycle Book 4  |  Supernatural Book Collection | Paranormal Book Collection

Cozy novels (or “cozies” as they are often referred) generally feature a small cast of characters and are centered on familiar and comforting places — like a small town, a suburb, a book store, a pub or a library. You won’t necessarily find complex plots, intricate character development or lofty themes in a cozy novel. Take them as advertised — they are the book equivalent to a cardamom latte served with a freshly baked scone or the perfect cup of chamomile tea on a rainy day. They are intended to sooth and delight rather than challenge and provoke. 

​Mysteries were the first genre to popularize the “cozy,” but this has expanded in recent years to include romance, fantasy and history. (But essentially any genre can become a “cozy” if it includes some of the aforementioned elements.) 

For my purposes, I’m featuring cozy fantasies which combine slice-of-life ambiance with stories that are healing, comforting and uplifting. But because they’re also fantasy novels, they include elements like magic and magical beings, creatures drawn from myth and legend and exotic realms. 

Since, a lot of cozy fantasies feature food and drink in some way, I’m pairing my book recs with a few drink recipes that compliment the fantasy themes.

​Tuck in and enjoy. 

Here be spoilers...

Based on my experiences as a foster parent, it's hard for me to read books that deal with either child abuse or missing children. Where Things Come Back by John Corey Whaley is a book about the latter. 

If you haven't been in that situation, it's hard to imagine how horrible it is to have someone you love just vanish — whether it's voluntarily or involuntary. You go to bed every night wondering where they are; and despite your best efforts when you're lying awake at 2 a.m. trying to remain positive, the very worst thoughts still manage to creep in. The missing child's parents, siblings and friends all cycle through the different stages of grief without ever having a body to grieve over. 

In the case of Where Things Come Back, the missing person is 15-year-old Gabriel Witter, who one day vanishes from his small Arkansas town. The story's told from the point of view of Gabriel's older brother, Cullen, whose anguish about his brother is juxtaposed against the town's fervor over the rumor that the Lazarus woodpecker, a bird previously thought extinct, has been discovered living in the woods nearby. The tale of the woodpecker, of vanished Gabriel, and of two disillusioned young men obsessed with an obscure biblical mystery all blend together as the story progresses. (Trust me, it makes sense as you read on...) Cullen comes to resent the search for the bird (if it actually exists), which appears to be garnering more interest and public resources than that of his missing brother. The young Christians, Benton Sage and Cabbot Searcy, whose tale is told in third person, are equally disillusioned by the belief that humankind's destiny was subverted by God. As you can probably guess from the names of the characters and the bird, biblical lore plays a huge role in the book's main theme about how blind faith can drive people to madness.

​I'm not a fast reader, but I tore through this book pretty quickly, caught up in the mystery behind Gabriel's disappearance and anxious to know how it all turned out. It's the sign of a good author when he can actually invoke the same emotions in the reader as he's displaying in his characters, and in this respect Where Things Come Back performs brilliantly. 

I enjoyed the parts of the book told from Cullen's perspective more than the third-person narrative about Benton and Cabbot, mostly because the latter began to read like a dissertation after a while, propelling the story forward but without the same passion. Part of Cullen's appeal is he sounds and acts like an authentic teenager. His affection for his brother is credible and compelling, not an easy trick since Gabriel's missing through most of the story. Although Cullen's the older brother, he admits that Gabriel's more responsible, more interesting, and frankly, more cool than he. And he says this without a trace of resentment. It's a refreshing change from how most teenage siblings are depicted in young adult fiction, their relationships often characterized by resentment and one-upmanship. 

Some readers of Where Things Come Back were upset with the story's ambiguous ending. Actually, this didn't bother me. Stories about missing children are often ambiguous in real life — people go missing and nobody ever knows what happened to them. But if I had one problem with the ending, it was that it seemed abrupt, as though certain other plot elements were dropped without being fully explained. Still, it was an enjoyable read which I highly recommend if you don't find the subject matter too disturbing. Better for ages fourteen and up, I think.

Ten years ago, the Marvel Cinematic Universe was still new. Interesting. Exciting. Tenuous.

By March 2015, the MCU holy trinity had been established consisting of Iron Man, Thor and Captain America. But within the mix of their stories , which spanned generations and galaxies, there were numerous supporting characters who were just as fascinating. One of the best was Peggy Carter, played by Hayley Atwell. 

Introduced in Captain America: The First Avenger (2011), Peggy was an agent for the top-secret Allied intelligence agency, the Strategic Scientific Reserve (SSR). She was central to Project Rebirth, an experiment to create American super soldiers which ultimately transformed Steve Rogers (Chris Evans) into Captain America. Not only did Peggy champion Steve for the experiment, she ultimately became his friend, his love interest and — through the intricacies of time travel and storytelling I won't recount here — his wife and mother of his children.  

But at first, it looked like Peggy's character was one and done. After all,  Steve is presumed lost and killed at the end of The First Avenger and Marvel fans presumed that was the last they'd see of Peggy, too. But fate intervened in 2013 with a short film called Marvel One-Shot: Agent Carter. The film was a glimpse into Peggy's life after the war as she wrestled with her grief and being a woman in the male dominated espionage game. The One-Shot became so popular that it was turned into a weekly television series called Agent Carter in 2015. 

Although the show was praised for its snappy dialogue and astute character development, it only lasted two seasons due to low ratings. One particularly baffling review called the show "fascinating but boring."  But really, I think Agent Carter was probably ahead of its time. Having a female-led period piece  that dealt with issues such as feminism, race, grief and sexism within the framework of Cold War espionage tinged with science fiction was probably pretty challenging for American audiences ten years ago. This is especially true when you consider that Peggy had no super powers whatsoever. Her strength came from intelligence, ingenuity and creativity. Hell, in one episode she took out a goon twice her size by weaponizing a stapler!

Sigh.

Regardless, Peggy Carter remains a fan favorite in the MCU and has even found new life as "Captain Carter" in some of the franchise's alternate universes. So, in honor of Peggy, Marvel's greatest non-super superhero, I'm presenting a collection of books, videos and collectables about her — or characters and stories similar to hers.

Stay calm and carry on!