Let's try to learn from the past

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ 

I like history and nonfiction, but I've found I can't really handle reading nonfiction about contemporary events. I like historical nonfiction because I know how things end and how everything turned out. The story of January 6th...well. We know how it ended, namely, that there were no real consequences. It's upsetting, and reading the details of the day in Storm at the Capitol just make it more upsetting, and it does somewhat lead to spiraling about the current state of the country.

Author Mary Clare Jalonick was in the Capitol that day to cover the certification of the 2020 election; she includes her own story at the end of the book. I appreciated that Jalonick limits the book to January 6th itself; it starts that morning and ends in the early hours of January 7th. She doesn't bother going through the election and the lies and the lawsuits and the rulings. In the beginning, she just notes that the election wasn't stolen--there's no evidence. And it's treated as the truth that it is.

This book should be required reading for everyone. Jalonick includes quotes from Republicans, Democrats, rioters, DC police, Capitol police, staffers, journalists. She includes Trump's tweets from throughout the day. Watching events unfold on tv, I was horrified, but it was so much worse than what it looked like. The descriptions of the fights between the police and the rioters are harrowing. (Though I could've done without the police frequently referring to "antifa" as though that's a real group when discussing the 2020 protests.)

The book also brought back the feelings of the Covid lockdowns and strangeness of being around other people; Jalonick mentions various officials having just gotten or about to get their vaccines. What a strange, awful time for the country (and the world).

The fact that the current president has not only pardoned the people who caused this damage--physical, emotional, and philosophical--but is also trying to give them money defies comprehension...though, of course, he was at the root of the riot itself. It's amazing how quickly some of the people who feared for their lives began undercutting their own experiences.

Primary sources like this are invaluable, particularly in today's landscape. Highly recommend, though it will depress and horrify you.

Adams, Franklin, Jefferson, and the other demigods in Ford's 1776

I was momentarily surprised when Ford's Theatre announced its 2025-26 season and 1776 was on there--they had done the show in 2003 and 2012--and then I realized. Of course. America's 250th. An event I'd been excited about for years but just can't get excited about in reality.

And yet. 

I found myself in a theater full of people applauding the line "The count being twelve to none with one abstention, the resolution on independence—is adopted" and I choked up. I saw Ford's production five times this run, and in most of them, people applauded that moment. I saw the productions in 2003 and 2012. I saw it on Broadway in 1997 and the Encores production in 2016. I've never experienced audiences reacting that way. And it got to me. Even in 2026, the idea of the United States of America still has a hold on me.

The show does hit differently depending on what's going on in the world. This go-round, I was particularly hit by John Hancock (Thomas Adrian Simpson) voting that the resolution on independence would need to be unanimous, seemingly dooming the proposition: "Don't you see that any colony who opposes independence will be forced to fight on the side of England—that we'll be setting brother against brother, that our new nation will carry as its emblem the mark of Cain?" 

I generally think of the slavery debate in Act Two as what causes the United States to be carrying that mark of Cain (Adams: "Mark me, Franklin, if we give in on this issue, posterity will never forgive us"). But this time around, it's that idea of disunity. True, the colonies come together and unanimously vote for independence. And while John Dickinson's "Don't forget that most men with nothing would rather protect the possibility of becoming rich than face the reality of being poor. And that is why they will follow us to the right" always resonates, the concept of trying to keep the country from turning on itself is what stuck with me in this run.

Jonathan Atkinson as John Adams and the Ford's Theatre cast of 1776. Photo by Scott Suchman.

 

I've seen 1776, both the movie and the stage version, many many times. Many times. And listened to the Original Broadway Cast recording countless times. Those performances are ingrained in me in such a way that it's hard to try to evaluate other versions without just comparing them to the version that's in my head.

That said, Ford's did a great job. There are things about the production I didn't particularly like, but there were many things about it I absolutely loved. Above all, the acting. Jonathan Atkinson's take on John Adams somehow didn't have me comparing him to William Daniels the entire time (with an exception; see below). Particularly, his relationship with Abigail (Kanysha Williams, who was also a delight in Sister Act last year) was adorable; they played off each other beautifully.

One thing I really noticed was how much the characters themselves seemed to enjoy each other. I read a review of the production that referred to Edward Rutledge of South Carolina (Joe Mallon) as the antagonist to Adams's protagonist—that's likely because of Act Two slavery debate, but I feel like some of it is because Evan Casey's John Dickinson, though debating Adams throughout the entire show, also seemed amused by Benjamin Franklin (Derrick D. Truby, Jr.) and Adams. The movie's Dickinson comes across as more sneering than Casey, I think. In general, this group seemed to be the way we kind of wish all our politicians would act—disagree with each other, debate each other, but respect each other, too. And enjoy each other's company.

The production also used the ensemble in interesting ways, like bringing in various actors to be the Lees of Virginia, or having characters in the back of the set, clearly leading their own lives but providing vocal support during songs. And the choreography was neat! "Choreography" is something I don't necessarily think of regarding 1776, but the movement throughout the show was incredibly well thought-out, particularly in "Molasses to Rum," which frequently involves the ensemble just sitting as Rutledge sings. (The show was choreographed and directed by Luis Salgado.)

I also really liked the use of projections (designed by Clint Allen) throughout the show; they were mostly subtle, but did a good job setting the scene at the top of the show and, of course, with the signing at the end of the show. They really hit in one of the show's highlights, "Mama, Look Sharp," which is a song that I usually don't particularly enjoy. But the projections that evoked Lexington Green (which I just visited last year), plus the actors' movements, plus the show's orchestrations (more below) came together amazingly. Hunter Ringsmith's Courier and Ricky DeVon Hall's Leather Apron were just perfect. It's now forever the standard of that song for me.

Additional shout-outs to the costumes, designed by Ivania Stack; I kept feeling that Dickinson was dressed as King George III, which fit. Plus, the costume for Michael Perrie Jr.'s Richard Henry Lee was aces—as was Perrie's entire performance. It's a super fun role and he was an absolute joy.

That said, it wasn't a perfect production. The set, designed by Milagros Ponce de León, felt too small and cramped. The lighting, designed by Venus Gulbranson, could be incredibly powerful...but was also too much at times. Similarly, there were new orchestrations by Daniel Gutiérrez that worked just fantastically well at times (like in "Mama, Look Sharp"), but that at times pulled me out of the show. There was a lot of use of African-style drums that was very very cool.

Salgado seemed to want to somewhat modernize the show, and it's felt in some of that choreography and in some of the orchestrations. And most of the time it worked for me. But it didn't always. Disappointingly for me, one of the times where it really didn't click for me was in "Is Anybody There?", the climax of the show. Atkinson's voice is fantastic—I just didn't love the modern drums in there and it was the one time where I did want something more like William Daniels's performance; I missed some of the passion, I think. (To compare: Atkinson and Daniels.)

And it continued to be missing at the end, as the names of the signers are read. The appearance of the famous signatures on the stage is fantastic, but it still came across as a bit too low-key. The production has the (in my opinion) overused conceit of actors coming in wearing modern clothing and changing into the costumes of the characters, and it's just not necessary (though, again, there's a moment where Atkinson and Williams interact that is lovely). So at the end, you have the signers with some of the "modern audience" members on stage and the music isn't as overwhelming as I want it to be and it doesn't quite come together. The end just misses landing. For me, the show ultimately just felt a touch too stylized.

Do I think people who don't have the show memorized, who haven't listened to the recordings and seen the movie countless times, had the same reaction? I don't. Audiences absolutely adored this run and I am ecstatic at how it was received. I love that Salgado and Ford's tried something with this production; it wasn't the traditional staging of 1776, but it also wasn't so different as to be off-putting. They largely managed to hit a sweet spot of innovation and tradition. 

A 100-year-old feminist novel...with Satan. Literally.

 

⭐⭐⭐ 

 

I feel like Lolly Willowes, or The Loving Huntsman is a solid 3.5; I did quite like it and I liked what author Sylvia Townsend Warner was going for, but I'm not sure I'm totally on board.

Honestly, I would've enjoyed this had it been a more...let's say typical story. Laura Willowes is born toward the end of the 19th century; she has two older brothers and her mother dies while she's very young, so Laura becomes her supportive father's hostess. But when he dies, she gets shuffled off to live with one of her brothers in London. So moves from her father's house to her brother's, where she becomes Aunt Lolly and loses her identity. She lives a very quiet, regimented life and only very belated understands how unhappy she's been. So she leaves! She goes to a village and honestly, that's all I needed. I didn't need her to become a witch and literally meet and converse with Satan.

I realized after reading some Barbara Pym books that I find the stories of women's quiet lives in England, written in the interwar period entertaining. Townsend Warner's writing style is excellent; I was delighted throughout the book:

Mourning [clothing] was never satisfactory if one bought it in a country town. (p. 2)

It was a decent family boast that great-great-aunt Salome's puff paste has been commended by King George III (p. 5)

During the last few years of her life Mrs. Willowes grew continually more skilled in evading responsibilities, and her death seemed but the final perfected expression of this skill (p. 12)

and so on.

The book ultimately comes down to this:

One doesn’t become a witch to run around being harmful, or to run around being helpful either, a district visitor on a broomstick. It’s to escape all that - to have a life of one’s own, not an existence doled out to by others.

That was one of the advantages of dealing with witches; they do not mind if you are a little odd in your ways, frown if you are late for meals, fret if you are out all night, pry and commiserate when at length you return. Lovely to be with people who prefer their thoughts to yours, lovely to live at your own sweet will, lovely to sleep out all night!

Laura finds freedom by fleeing the constraints of society and her family and I feel like that can be done without saying "I'm a witch! In a town of them!" Simply the juxtaposition of her life in Great Mop with that of her life with her brother is enough to show her freedom. But I guess in that world, being a witch is the only way to have those freedoms.

I like what Townsend Warner was saying and I liked her writing, but I wound up slightly aggravated by the book as well. It's still great to get this perspective from that period of time. 

A readable, scholarly-ish look at the magic of baseball

⭐⭐⭐⭐ 

Probably more like a 3.75, but I rounded up, because baseball is magical. If you're a baseball fan like I am, you will read The Magical Game: The Spirit and History of Baseball's Superstitions, Rituals, and Curses and think "Relatable" over and over ("Being a fan of any sport is stressful at best and terrifying at worst. Before my miraculous conversion via Syndergaard-ian fastball, I would've laughed at that sentiment, but now I say it with total seriousness. It's scary to want, to root, to hope, to put your faith in strangers, to surrender control--and that is what is asked of us as fans" [loc. 1109]).

Author Addy Baird manages to balance scholarship with the mysticism of baseball and its fandom pretty well. The book starts very strong, but ends a bit weakly. She delves into players' rituals, jinxes, fans and how fans are convinced that they are somehow affecting the game, curses (focusing, naturally, on the Cubs' Curse of the Billy Goat and the Red Sox's Curse of the Bambino), and luck. The last two chapters are...more vague and feel unnecessary, honestly, though they did involve a description of watching a Mets game from the broadcast truck, which is neat.

If you're a baseball fan, you'll enjoy this. Baird delves into the histories of a lot of words like myth and magic, but she also understands the passion and irrationality and fears and hopes of fans. She tries to find the truth behind the story of baseball itself and Babe Ruth's called shot. She describes the curses, but acknowledges that the teams' real curses were those of bad ownership and bad play ("[Historian Glenn] Stout calls the idea a 'fantasy' that he feels has given Red Sox fans a reason to excuse generations of bad baseball, bad management, and bad history . . . You don't need curses or hexes or ghosts or gods to smite down a team when your owner will do it for free (or for, you know, $100,000 and a mortgage on the park" [loc. 1450]).

She talks about how just thinking you're cursed can be enough for players to act like they are cursed, and how those little player (and fan) rituals reinforce themselves: "The daily nature of the game, the quick reinforcement of any superstitious ritual, and the long and storied history of the sport's magical culture all seem to come together in a way that appeals to our innate, evolutionary desire to control and understand our environment" (loc. 1230). Baird goes into the different attitudes of Japanese and American players; Japanese players believe their superstitious rituals help the whole team, not necessarily their own personal stats.

I enjoyed the perspective of the players, the acknowledgment of luck in the game: "This can be maddening for a pitcher--to perform well and produce a poor outcome is a recipe to drive a person crazy" (loc. 424). You can make the perfect pitch and it still turns into a bases-clearing double. What to do? Blame your new socks. In 1948, Al Demaree wrote "Often, there's a difference of no more than half an inch between a three-bagger and a foul ball--with the game, perhaps the pennant, perhaps even the World Series depending on it" (loc. 1766). Ballplayers need something to cling to.

As do fans. Fans' beliefs in their ability to affect the game from afar, whether by watching or not watching or having to maintain their own streaks along with the teams sounds nuts. And it is. But that's part of the magic of the game. (I also learned that early baseball fans were called "cranks," which is just completely bizarre! But also, given the comments on the Orioles site I frequent, sounds completely accurate.)

One notable absence from the book is that of Latin American players, who I'm sure have their own cultures of myth and curses and superstition. Baird ties baseball to America quite a few times, but she still manages to give us some stories from Japan. I'd rather have the Latin American perspective than the more squishy last couple chapters, where Baird starts getting more metaphysical about the game.

Still, a very fun read for baseball fans.

Thank you to NetGalley and St. Martin’s Press for this advance copy in exchange for my honest opinion.

The duality of Jim Jones

⭐⭐⭐⭐

Closer to a 4.5, but not quite 5 stars.

I've always been mildly intrigued by Jonestown because the mass suicide there happened only a couple of weeks after I was born. And recently I've heard more about how Jim Jones was actually pretty progressive...before. So when my book club decided to have this month be "Pick a book about a cult," this seemed like the way to go; plus, I thought author Jeff Guinn's Manson: The Life and Times of Charles Manson was very good.

Here's the thing: Jim Jones actually did quite a number of very good things. He was always...off-putting, let us say, but did truly seem committed to equality. Guinn doesn't shy away from the progressively bad parts of Jones, but he also doesn't portray him solely as a power-hungry cult leader (which is obviously where Jones wound up).

Guinn details Jones's rise as a minister while also examining Jones's beliefs (while noting that obviously we have no way of knowing what Jones actually believed about God or religion). One of Jones's strengths was his ability to work a crowd; he started off opening a church in a Black-majority part of Indianapolis and instead of preaching about being rewarded in the afterlife, he focused on what could be done here and now. He attended Black churches and worked Midwest revivals and learned from Father Divine, who claimed to be God in human form. He preached for hours, so much that if you were in the crowd, you probably heard something that made you think "Yes! This guy gets me!" Guinn illustrates the tricks that allowed Jones to make people think that he had psychic abilities, but also shows that Jones was a guy who was charismatic and was good with people.

Jones did, it seem, truly believe in a lot of socialist principles; he wanted racial equality and he wanted to feed and clothe the needy (and did so!). The Peoples Temple opened nursing homes in Indiana and California and they were legitimately good facilities.

As this happened, the church (nominally affiliated with the Disciples of Christ) also took in a lot of money for Jones that didn't make it to the Disciples...or the poor. And naturally, over the years, Jones moved away from focusing on socialism and more on controlling people--by preying on fears of nuclear war, by creating suspicions of any outsiders and especially the government. He lured people in by helping others and then turned on them, forcing people to sign over their Social Security checks and real estate. He curried favor with the right people and got mad if he didn't get what he wanted. Guinn details the progression of the Peoples Temple from socialist church to full-on cult; he describes Jones's descent from a narcissist to cult leader, paranoid and controlling. Jones dropped hints of mass suicide years in advance.

And, of course, came the sex with everyone and the paranoia and the drugs and the physical abuse of parishioners and getting the members to spy on each other, etc., etc.

Ironically, Jonestown itself seemed like it was a fairly decent place; the original Temple members who went to the jungle seemed to have a decent-enough time of it. The work was hard, of course, but they saw themselves as creating the ultimate socialist paradise. Multiracial (Jonestown, at the end, was about two-thirds Black), growing their own food, excellent school facilities. It got a lot worse once Jim Jones got there (fleeing bad press to a place where he thought people couldn't defect from), but even so, many government officials (from both Guyana and the U.S.) went and spoke to residents and genuinely thought people were OK. Sure, their family members were upset, but what could you do?

The story of Jim Jones and what he did to his followers in Guyana is an incredibly depressing one. And it's made more so when you realize the amount of good Jones was actually able to accomplish, and when you contemplate what more he could have done. The details of what happened in November 1978 are horrifying; so is the story of the descent of man who really could've helped make the world better. You know. If he weren't evil.

Watching Hamnet while remembering Hamnet

I was excited when I saw that the Shakespeare Theatre would be bringing in the Royal Shakespeare Company's production of Hamnet this season; when it came time to actually usher, though, I was slightly less enthusiastic (though part of that was just how crowded my calendar has been lately). I enjoyed the book well enough, but didn't see the recent movie.

The play, adapted by Lolita Chakrabarti based on the Maggie O'Farrell novel, focuses on Agnes Hathaway (Kemi-Bo Jacobs)--a slightly witchy resident of Stratford-upon-Avon who has a crappy stepmother and whose brothers are tutored by a young man named Will (Rory Alexander). She and Will get married and have some children, one of whom dies (the novel actually has a subtitle: "A Novel of the Plague") and the family has to come to grips with that loss.

Chakrabarti changes quite a few things about the book as I remember it. I was pleased that the Agnes of the play wasn't quite the witch that she is in the book; the Agnes on stage is how I wanted her to be in the book--strong and independent and talented with healing and animals and such; different enough that the people in town whisper about her but not actually, like, supernatural.

However, though I was bothered in the book that William was never specified as Shakespeare, here he definitely is. And while I remember his family playing a large part in the book--the married couple does live with them--in the play, Will plays too large a part. There are scenes of him and his fellow actors rehearsing and performing. I enjoyed those bits, but they didn't seem to belong in the play.

Kemi-Bo Jacobs and Rory Alexander as Agnes and William Shakespeare in the Royal Shakespeare Company’s Hamnet. Photo by Kyle Flubacker.

The story of Hamnet is that of Agnes, about her life and grief and coping. I remember it permeating the book, and while the play has some ghostly children running about in Act One, Hamnet's illness doesn't occur until the second act. The book is told in flashback format and I feel like the play would've benefited from that as well. 

And once the boy does succumb, Will continues to remain in the forefront while Agnes seems more sidelined. Grief, since it is usually pretty internal, can be hard to be depicted, particularly on stage, which doesn't lend itself to closeups and such. But I still felt like more of Agnes's grief should've been seen.

Of course, that's all with the knowledge of the book; without those vague memories of a book I read 5 years ago, I probably would've enjoyed this a lot more. I thought Jacobs and Alexander were both great; likable, with good chemistry. I enjoyed seeing their relationship develop. Ditto the various side characters, particularly Troy Alexander as Bartholomew, Agnes's brother, and Bert Seymour as Richard Burbage. I was confused about who some of the side characters were, however, which was a bit distracting during the show. I also thought the set design was neat, with a platform being raised and lowered to stand in for various rooms.

I did largely enjoy the production, though ultimately I think I would've liked it more without any knowledge of the source material. Sadly, I don't think it lives up to the book.

Secrets, Self-Discovery, and a Not-So-Mad Mabel

⭐⭐⭐⭐ 

I read Mad Mabel almost cover to cover on a cross-country flight and it really was the perfect companion; an entertaining combination of intrigue, character development, and reflection on how people come to be who they are.

Eighty-one-year-old Elsie Fitzpatrick has lived a quiet life on Kelly Lane for decades, though recently a single mother and her daughter have moved in and young Persephone has taken an interest in her neighbor. But after Elsie discovers the body of an elderly neighbor (whom she describes as her "nemesis"), people start taking an interest in her past and quickly discover that Elsie is actually "Mad Mabel," a figure connected to a number of deaths, infamous enough to be covered in schools. 

Author Sally Hepworth jumps between the present and the backstory in a way that feels natural; the two stories build on each other. I see this book tagged as "Mystery" and "Thriller," but that's not how I'd describe it (though it seems like that's a lot of what Hepworth writes); it's truly a character study that somewhat leads to a meditation on how people become who they are...and how others' and our own perceptions of ourselves influence our lives. It's a drama.

The core of the story is Elsie/Mabel's relationships, with her parents, with her schoolmates, with her neighbors. With others. There's a lot of plot, but the book rests very solidly on its characters. Did I gasp a couple of times at reveals? I did. Did my heart break over and over? It did. Did I want to put this book down? I did not.

I did feel at times that Hepworth tried a touch too hard to be clever with certain plot points and the whole "Elsie thinks she's a crank nobody likes, but she's actually good inside!" trope, and I found it hard to believe that Elsie would be so flippant with the police in the present, given her past. Still, these are nitpicks. Definitely recommend.

Thank you to the St. Martin's Press and NetGalley for an ARC in exchange for an honest review.

Hallmark Movie Roundup: Winter in Vail

Title: Winter in Vail (2020)

Actor(s) You Know:
Lacey Chabert, Queen of the Hallmark Movies (also known from Party of Five and, if you're me, Les Mis--I saw her as Young Cosette on Broadway in 1994), and Tyler Hynes, also from a million Hallmark movies

Plot:
Chelsea quits her job as an LA event planner after inheriting a chalet in Vail from her uncle. She arrives in Vail to find that the chalet is mid-reno, and also that a number of businesses in town--including a local German restaurant--are failing. (Apparently this universe's Vail isn't full of rich people.) Owen, the contractor/son of the German restaurant's owner, helps Chelsea Realize What's Important in Life. Also, they throw StrudelFest to save the town. (Because the German restaurant is failing because of the lack of Chelsea's uncle's famous strudel.)

Trope(s):
    Royalty
    Alternate reality
    Small town ✔
    Fake relationship
    Family business getting sold/going bankrupt ✔
    Enemies-to-lovers
    Best friends-to-lovers
    Second chance
    Stranded

Meet Cute: 
Chelsea arrives in Vail and parks illegally. Owen points it out in a less-than-friendly way...though it does prevent Chelsea from getting towed. Then he shows up to help fix up her uncle's house.

Rundown:
    Dead parents
    Montage(s)
    Christmas-related name(s) 
    Animals
    Returns to hometown
    Is Santa a character? 
        Secretly or overtly?
    Cookie baking ✔
    Tree decorating
    Somebody hates Christmas
    Christmas festival in a small town 
    A literal competition ✔
    Child plays matchmaker
    All work, no romance/life ✔
    Kiss before the end of the movie
    Interrupted kiss 
    Flashback to childhood
    The leads literally run into each other
    Gratuitous shirtless scene
    Big Secret
    Wacky misunderstanding
    Just. Talk. To. Each. Other.
    Someone pushing the leads together 
    Real family = chaos / bad families = cold and not chaotic
    Learns the meaning of Christmas
    Stranded by snowstorm
    Hot chocolate ✔
    Ice skating ✔
    D-list celebrity
    Enemy-to-friend storyline
    The love interest is an ex
    Career change
    Lying to each other
    Tries to apologize, but keeps getting cut off
    Christmas pageant 
    End with a flash-forward

Did I actually like/root for the heroine? How do the lead(s) annoy me?
They're both perfectly fine. There's not much in the way of conflict--Chelsea and Owen put aside their differences basically immediately--and all the characters are reasonably likeable. I'm mostly annoyed by them being like, "We can throw a Strudelfest to get into local guidebooks that come out next month!" That's definitely how that works, yes. Also, Owen is possibly too supportive.

Is it in any way not completely generic? 
Nope, not really. 

Is the BFF actually the best? Do they need their own movie?
Chelsea's coworker/BFF seems pretty cool but doesn't get enough of a personality to make me think she needs her own movie. Also, she's suckered by their boss to go to Vail and try to get Chelsea to come back.

How is the romantic alternative wrong for the heroine? 
n/a. No romantic alternatives for anyone.

Thoughts/Other Notes:
I put this movie on while on a business trip to have on while I was doing some work. This was pretty perfect background noise. In retrospect, I am unsure how this movie even filled up 2 hours, as again, there was basically zero conflict until the very end (Will Chelsea go back to her event-planning life in LA? and you can guess how that worked itself out).

Rating:
🧀🧀🧀🧀

A love letter to friendship

⭐⭐⭐⭐
 

I wasn't as in love with this book as I was with Maame, but I still really really liked this.

Remy has written a bestseller based on her relationship with her three close friends, but life has pulled them in different directions (one had a baby, one moved to New York, etc.). She bumps into Simone, with whom she went to school (though they weren't close), and the two manage to become friends--even though Simone keeps herself closed off from the world after her family finds out that she has a side hustle as an escort. It's sort of a black cat/golden retriever trope situation.

Author Jessica George does an amazing job exploring friendships--making new ones, uncertainty about established ones. Remy finds herself adrift; she quit her job after the success of her book and now is trying to deal with writer's block while also not having anything (or anyone, other than her mother) to anchor herself. Simone's sister was her best friend, but after becoming estranged from her family, Simone's talked herself into believing that she doesn't need anyone. George's depiction of adult loneliness struck home over and over; I certainly remember having the same revelation as Remy: "I'm not the priority. Their own families and careers will come before me, of course they will" (loc. 304).

The book focuses pretty much exclusively on friendship, not romance, which I appreciate. I've dealt with the loss of friendships over the years (who hasn't), some with blow-up endings and some drifting. We get older and people make different choices about their lives and relationships and careers and children and it's hard to maintain friendships, and there's a lot of reflection on that that I so appreciated:

"I keep debating whether I'm being overly emotional and that this is an expected part of life, that I'm just supposed to move on. The girls all seem to be doing exactly that, and it breaks my heart that I'm the only one reacting like this. I'm the only one who seems hurt and impacted by their absence. It makes me feel like my friendship wasn't meaningful enough. You only miss what you truly loved, right?" I look away. "Maybe that's on me, maybe I loved harder than I can be loved." (loc. 2513)

---

I decided I'd much rather devote time and emotional energy to my friends, rather than to a romantic partner. It had never fully occurred to me that, someday, my friends would not do the same. (loc. 519)

---

Or maybe it's comparable to romantic relationships, where after years together, it's less about trying to replicate what you once had an more about growing alongside each other, and allowing the other person to change. Maybe the answer lies in figuring out how we maintain what we have with distance and new priorities between us? (loc. 2132)

Not that that 100% describes me--I am not as good a friend as Remy is, to be sure--but it resonated as I reflected on my relationships over the years.

There's also a decent amount of discussion about having children or not having children, (view spoiler) There's acknowledgment that women aren't necessarily meant to have children, and that there's a middle ground between women who want children and women who don't want children. There's so much nuance and grace given permeating the book.

One minor quibble is that while the actual plot ending worked for me, it dragged on a bit too long. I didn't need a "6 months later" AND a "1 year later" AND an epilogue. We did need that information to wrap up these stories--or, at least, these parts of these stories--but I can't help but feel like it could've been handled a different way.

Still, highly recommend. George manages to take a lot of nuanced relationships and situations and bring them to a satisfying place. This book hasn't even released yet and I'm already looking forward to what Jessica George does next.

Thank you to the St. Martin's Press and NetGalley for an ARC in exchange for an honest review.

Hallmark Movie Roundup: The Way to You

Title: The Way to You (2026)

Actor(s) You Know: 
Leads Kim Matula and Aaron O'Connell have both been in a bunch of Hallmark movies, but nobody really recognizable outside the Hallmark Cinematic Universe.

Plot: 
New Yorkers Emma and Conrad each have meet-cutes on the New York subway during a blackout. Conrad places an ad to try to find the woman he was talking to, but Emma is the one who answers the ad. She realizes she can probably help him find his missing lady, and he agrees to help her try to find a date amongst his coworkers. (They work in finance, so the script makes Conrad extra nice to make up for it.)

Trope(s):
    Royalty
    Alternate reality
    Small town 
    Fake relationship
    Family business getting sold/going bankrupt
    Enemies-to-lovers
    Best friends-to-lovers
    Second chance
    Stranded

Meet Cute: 
The cutest meet is Conrad and the woman he meets on the subway--she drops her copy of The Count of Monte Cristo, he returns it to her, and they chat on the subway.

Rundown:
    Dead parents
    Montage(s) ✔
    Christmas-related name(s) 
    Animals
    Returns to hometown
    Is Santa a character? 
        Secretly or overtly?
    Cookie baking ✔
    Tree decorating
    Somebody hates Christmas
    Christmas festival in a small town 
    A literal competition
    Child plays matchmaker
    All work, no romance/life
    Kiss before the end of the movie
    Interrupted kiss 
    Flashback to childhood
    The leads literally run into each other
    Gratuitous shirtless scene
    Big Secret
    Wacky misunderstanding
    Just. Talk. To. Each. Other.
    Someone pushing the leads together 
    Real family = chaos / bad families = cold and not chaotic
    Learns the meaning of Christmas
    Stranded by snowstorm
    Hot chocolate 
    Ice skating
    D-list celebrity
    Enemy-to-friend storyline
    The love interest is an ex
    Career change
    Lying to each other
    Tries to apologize, but keeps getting cut off
    Christmas pageant 
    End with a flash-forward

Did I actually like/root for the heroine? How do the lead(s) annoy me?
Both Conrad and Emma are pretty likable. Conrad is perhaps a bit too perfect (unless you count being an early bird a flaw); Emma is a bit more balanced, but still likable.

Is it in any way not completely generic? 
I thought they did the new-friends-who-grow-to-like-each-other plot quite well; the progression worked. Good side characters. That said, Emma works in an art gallery. However, working in finance didn't make Conrad evil, so there's that. (His parents got caught in a Ponzi scheme, so he's a Good Finance Guy.) (Note that my father also worked in finance, so I don't default to finance guys = evil, but I get the stereotype.) But no bad finance bros. Even the guy Emma winds up dating a bit isn't bad; they just don't click as a couple.

Is the BFF actually the best? Do they need their own movie?
Emma's sister and brother-in-law are adorable and I love them. Would 100% watch their movie. Probably also one about Conrad's boss Lance and his wife.

How is the romantic alternative wrong for the heroine? 
Emma goes on a date with one of Conrad's coworkers and there's no spark; after Conrad finds his Mysterious Subway Lady, she gives dating the coworker another guy. He's totally fine! (Except something of a lack of sense of humor.) But it's nicely realistic! Sometimes people are OK but you just don't have that spark.

Thoughts/Other Notes:
This was cute! I liked that there were some good book discussions in there and I liked Conrad getting interested in art. Good chemistry, good side characters. Recommend.

Rating:
🧀🧀🧀🧀