v.e. schwab – Catherine Thoms

To whatever end

Lit Chat Vol. 33 — January/February in Review

Pyramid of book cover images with Bury Our Bones in the Midnight Soil by V.E. Schwab, The Vampire Lestat by Anne Rice, The Wood at Midwinter by Susanna Clarke, and Audition by Katie Kitamura on the bottom; House of Earth and Blood by Sarah J. Maas and The Artist's Way by Julia Cameron in the middle; Kingdom of Ash by Sarah J. Maas on top.

Hi friends,

I started 2025 with a really clear idea of what I wanted to do with my time and my brain. I had a strong drive to learn, stretch, and achieve via a self-imposed curriculum. And I enjoyed it! I’m glad I did it. But come January 2026, I needed a rest.

For me, rest is letting myself luxuriate in 500+ page books that take well over a month to read. I gravitate towards these (mostly fantasy) books during times of hibernation and withdrawal, protracted escapes from the rest of the world.

I think I’m branding 2026 as the year of the long read. The project read, if you will. I’m currently in a book club to read Larry McMurtry’s western epic Lonesome Dove over the next few months. I desperately need to return to (read: binge) the Wolf Hall trilogy. I’d also like to finally tackle some Dostoyevsky, and maybe we’ll return to some Proust in the summer? Who’s to say!

For the past three years, I’ve shied away from longer books because I was afraid they’d leave me with not enough to write about here on a monthly cadence. That’s not interesting to me anymore! This year, we’re eliminating that stress. As a result, these updates may be a little less frequent until I feel like mixing it up again. You’ll hear from me when you hear from me, but I’m always around if you want to chat.

Speaking of, we’ve got some catching up to do. Shall we?

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THE FOUNDATION:

Book cover images for Bury Our Bones in the Midnight Soil by V.E. Schwab, The Vampire Lestat by Anne Rice, The Wood at Midwinter by Susanna Clarke, and Audition by Katie Kitamura

Bury Our Bones in the Midnight Soil — V.E. Schwab

I wanted to love this one! I really did. Chalk it up to bad timing, that I happened to read two vampire books more or less concurrently. I usually enjoy Schwab’s writing and was intrigued by the three different eras her characters belonged to: 2019 Boston, Regency-era London, and sixteenth-century Spain. However, I don’t think the length worked in this one’s favor. When each of the POVs are novel-length in their own right, the moment when they finally convene needs to feel deservedly momentous. This one kind of just devolved into an anticlimax about grief and toxic relationships, and I don’t think it brought anything particularly new and exciting to the canon of vampire novels. Speaking of…

The Vampire Lestat — Anne Rice

I first read Interview with the Vampire six or seven years ago, and absolutely loved the luxurious, sensual campiness with which Rice essentially defined the modern vampire novel. Once you’ve read it, everything else (unfortunately, Bury Our Bones included) just feels like an imitation. That said, this did take me closer to four months to get through because, as fascinating a character as Lestat is, this nearly 600-page book is more autobiography than true plot. This made it easy to put down and pick back up during the different eras of Lestat, but didn’t make me want to read nonstop to the exclusion of all else. We do get some cool vampire origin lore in this volume, though, and I do intend to finish the rest of this series eventually.

The Wood at Midwinter — Susanna Clarke

Susanna Clarke is a delight at whatever she does, be it a 1,000-page fantasy doorstop or a 64-page fairy tale. I would read her grocery lists, but in their absence, The Wood at Midwinter is an exquisitely illustrated short story about a strange girl and her affinity for the woods who speak back to her like a character in their own right. This is a perfect snow day book for adults and children alike—exactly the length of a cup of hot chocolate.

Audition — Katie Kitamura

Listen, it’s been two months and I still have no idea how to feel about this book. My first response after finishing it in one sitting was just ???, and my second response was to message some friends who I knew had read it:

screenshot of a discord message that says "I can't decide if it's genius or obnoxious. This one requires some stewing. — spoiler alert: still stewing!

I don’t even know how to talk about it without spoiling it? On the surface, it’s about an actress and a young man who claims to be her son, the emotional fallout that ensues, and its effects on her performance in an upcoming play. But there’s a twist! And the twist has you questioning everything you’ve read up until then, the reliability of each character, and the reliability of the narrative itself. It lands in a sufficiently WTF place that answers absolutely zero questions, which is why it’s either genius or obnoxious. I think I’ve landed on possibly both? But I’m still kind of annoyed. If you’ve read this one, I want to hear from you!!

SOLID SUPPORTS:

House of Earth and Blood — Sarah J. Maas

I have officially reached the point in my SJM reading journey where I’m just committed to reading everything she’s written. After finishing the Throne of Glass series in January (more on that to come, dw), I couldn’t resist the temptation of yet another 900-page book on my Kindle to take with me on a trip to Florida.

HOEAB is the first book in the Crescent City series, and I’ll admit I’m not vibing with the urban fantasy elements quite as much as I was the classic high fantasy of Throne of Glass. There’s something just kind of wrong to me about angels using cell phones and watching TV. This one, however, scores points for being written for an adult audience, and I was pleasantly surprised by how quickly it sucked me in despite having to learn yet another new world’s worth of vocabulary, geography, and lore. This is another series I’m committed to seeing through to the end this year. Probably sooner rather than later, if Libby keeps delivering the e-books this fast.

The Artist’s Way — Julia Cameron

Enough creative friends of mine had been threatening to do The Artist’s Way for long enough that in December, we actually started, and in February, I finished! Twelve weeks of consistent morning pages, Artist’s Dates, and challenging my relationship with art, creativity, and the universe’s role in all of it.

I think my biggest takeaways were:

How much calmer I feel in my day when I spend the first fifteen minutes dumping my brain out into my fancy Italian leather journal like Dumbledore’s pensieve.
How fun it is to go to the movies by myself and not share my popcorn.
How much more likely I am to get something done if I a) write it down and b) tell other people about it.

This journey also helped me recommit to my creative writing and to the possibility of sharing it with the world in a big way (I’ve been submitting to literary magazines for the first time in like six years), which I’ll admit is very scary! And hard to open myself back up to rejection in that way! But if I can be brave then so can you, because Julia Cameron says so.

THE TIPPY TOP:

Book cover image for Kingdom of Ash by Sarah J. Maas

Kingdom of Ash — Sarah J. Maas

I think as a general rule, if I’m going to invest upwards of four thousand pages of my reading time to a single series, then the last book is actually legally obligated to be good enough for the top spot. Fortunately for SJM, Kingdom of Ash was.

This is the seventh book in a series, so at this point it’s almost impossible to discuss without spoilers. I’ve talked in previous posts about how much I was enjoying the ways the geographical world of the novel continued to expand, and how satisfying it was when characters from different corners of the map finally teamed up. But in finishing (and starting) yet another SJM series, I’ve also been thinking a lot about the romantasy genre as a whole, especially in response to Daniel Yadin’s essay in The Drift.

A significant portion of Yadin’s essay about the recent rise of romantasy in pop culture goes for shock value in quoting some of the steamier sex scenes and using them as a lens to explore the representation of female freedom and sexual liberation, often at the cost of literary quality. What I think he dismisses in his argument about how fate and overdetermination weaken the characters’ individual agency is the fact that said overdetermination is…kind of the whole point?

Yes, we come to these books for an escape, but the main fantasy is not the magic or the dragons or the “unfathomably hung” love interests. The real fantasy is the guarantee that somehow, even when all signs point towards certain doom, everything is still going to work out okay. The hands of fate are always working for the good: the war will be won, the lover found true and whole, the friendships strengthened and preserved. In a reality of horrific news cycles where we are reminded every day that absolutely none of this is promised to us, isn’t that kind of certainty the wildest fantasy of all?

Anyway, that’s just a teaser of my full rant (The Drift can commission me for a full rebuttal if they want), but I’ll end by saying these books are also just really fun to read! And for what it’s worth, Throne of Glass is the least raunchy, as it’s technically YA. Safe to share and enjoy with both teens and grandmas.

Well, friends, thanks for hanging and for bearing with me as I figure out what I want this newsletter (and my life in general) to look like in 2026. If you want to chat more about any of these books, or want to commit to a buddy read of Infinite Jest (I think I’m kidding…maybe), drop a comment or hit me up in any of the other usual places.

And until next time, happy reading!
❤ Catherine

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Atmospheric AF: October in Review

In past Octobers, I’ve been really into spooky classics like Dracula and Frankenstein, but this year I opted instead for a wider range of eerie, speculative, and fantastic reads, most of them quite new. I finished out the month with a total of seven books, so the bonus Honorable Mention pyramid tier (which is exclusive to this blog!) includes some shows and movies I’ve been watching this month as well.

Now, since we are quite literally losing daylight hours here, I’ll go ahead and dive right into the books. But first! If you haven’t already subscribed to the Substack version of this blog, which sends these monthly reviews straight to your inbox, please do so below!

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The Top:

The Rabbit Hutch — Tess Gunty

Do you ever experience a piece of art that’s so well executed, it makes you despair a little bit because you feel like you’ll never be able to make anything as good? That’s what this book did to me. I first came across The Rabbit Hutch in Chicago’s Exile in Bookville, where I read the prologue standing right there on the shop floor because the shelf talker told me to. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: indie booksellers know their shit.

The Rabbit Hutch follows the intertwined stories of the residents of La Lapinière, a run-down apartment building set in the fictional dying rust belt town of Vacca Vale, Indiana. Populated with characters such as an obituary website moderator, a young mother afraid of her son’s eyes, the slightly deranged son of a late famous actress, and an apartment of former foster kids, including a high school drop-out obsessed with twelfth-century mystic Hildegard von Bingen, it runs the gamut of humanity in a searingly sharp, achingly astute way. I found myself stopping to reread sentences that were not only gorgeous, but also so poignantly and accurately captured a specific emotion or experience that it quite literally made me stop in my tracks. While there is a rotating cast of characters, the main story revolves around eighteen-year-old Blandine, an enigmatic, almost otherworldly character whose quest to emulate her favorite female saints by leaving her body is fulfilled on the very first page (note: while there is violence here, it’s not sexual violence, if that helps anyone else’s anxious brains to know ahead of time).

Many of these storylines are not particularly original, but what I admire most about Gunty’s writing is how deftly she toes the line between cliché pitfalls and true, genuine depictions of vulnerability. Illicit student/teacher relationships are not groundbreaking, nor are the anxieties of new mothers, lonely widowers and spinsters, or the children of narcissistic parents. Yet Gunty manages to reflect each of these stories off of each other in a way that makes them feel true and new and human, finding holiness in the mundane and tenderness in the anonymity of strangers who all live under the same roof. I’ll echo that shelf-talker in Chicago and say: just read the first page. Then come talk to me when you’ve blazed through the rest.

Solid Supports

Mexican Gothic — Silvia Moreno-Garcia

As a Library Bitch™, I tend not to get around to super-hyped books until a couple years after they’re pubbed, when the holds waitlist dies down a bit. This month, I finally got my hands on a Kindle copy to get me through a long flight and let me tell you: this book was the perfect plane read. Mexico City socialite Noemí’s quest to save her cousin Catalina from a mysterious illness at the remote family estate of Catalina’s new English husband is fast-paced, delightfully chilly, and teeming with Gothic dread. A surprising twist places the novel more firmly in magical realism territory than I’d expected, and there’s also some powerful anti-colonialism rhetoric behind the pulpy Gothic romance façade. I get the hype now and am excited to read Moreno-Garcia’s newest book, The Daughter of Doctor Moreau (in another three years, probably).

Klara and the Sun — Kazuo Ishiguro

It’s a good thing I had no idea what this book was about before I started, because I would’ve been skeptical about just how heartbreakingly human a narrative told through the eyes of a self-aware robot could be. Klara is an AF (Artificial Friend), chosen to be the companion and protector of a young girl named Josie who is often unwell, and it becomes Klara’s mission to make Josie well again no matter the cost. While often frustratingly vague in terms of the socio-political context of this dystopianish near-future, I was captivated by Ishiguro’s focus on the clinical uniqueness of the human soul, and by the unexpectedly primitive performance of worship and prayer from its most technologically advanced character. Klara’s consciousness will go on living in my brain for quite some time.

The Foundation:

The Searcher —Tana French

This was my first book of October, aptly picked as the first gloomy week of rain and mist matched the moodiness of the Irish countryside where retired Chicago cop Cal Hooper moves for some peace and quiet. Except, because this is a Tana French book, Cal is quickly roped into an unofficial missing person case that he can’t refuse. To be honest, this wasn’t my favorite of the Tana French books I’ve read (I prefer the Dublin Murder Squad books), but it was still sufficiently cozy and scratched the atmospheric murder mystery itch, which is why we come to French in the first place.

A Darker Shade of Magic — V.E. Schwab

I was really craving an escapist fantasy à la Schwab’s most recent novel, The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue, so I picked up the first in her Shades of Magic series. In theory, it should’ve hooked me: four alternate universe Londons with varying levels of magic inside them all stacked on top of each other, and two of the only three people who can move between worlds are a grumpy sorcerer and a fearless lady pirate/thief. I think if I’d been more focused on the book instead of reading a page at a time while my Duolingo ads played then I would’ve gotten into it faster, but even when I was focusing it didn’t truly enthrall me like Addie LaRue did. That said, it was still a solid portal fantasy and I’ll likely read the rest of the series eventually.

Marigold and Rose — Louise Glück

This tiny, fifty-two page novella from Nobel Prize-winning poet Louise Glück asks the question: what if a baby wrote a book? No, really. Glück’s first work of fiction explores the rich inner lives of a pair of infant twins as they mature through their first year of life as chronicled by baby Marigold, an aspiring author who dreams of writing a book as soon as she knows words. Don’t be deceived by its diminutive size or strange premise, this was a surprisingly profound meditation on time, language, and family that’s more than worth the hour it’ll take you to read.

Honorable Mention:

The Mark of Athena — Rick Riordan

Yes, I am still listening to the Heroes of Olympus audiobooks and no, I am not okay after that cliffhanger!!! The gang goes to Rome in this one, accomplishing various side quests to stave off the rise of Gaia and rescue a kidnapped Nico di Angelo. Meanwhile, Annabeth has been given a special quest of her own—one that no child of Athena has ever come back from. BRB, queuing up Book #4.

Derry Girls — Lisa McGee

Dear God, I love this show and am so devastated that it’s over. If you’ve been living under a rock, it’s about a group of Northern Irish teenage girls (and one English boy) living in Derry during the Troubles. It is without a doubt one of the funniest shows I’ve ever seen and had me giggling through every single episode. Come for the Irish Catholic shenanigans and the impeccable nineties soundtrack, stay for the heartwarming moments of love and friendship that have a special place in each episode. I’ll be rewatching this show from the beginning (plus the holiday Bake Off special) very soon.

The Banshees of Inisherin — Martin McDonagh

I’m really on an Irish kick here, huh? I’ve been a Martin McDonagh fan ever since seeing The Pillowman at the Gaiety Theatre in Dublin back in 2015, and I’ll also watch Colin Farrell and Brendan Gleason in absolutely anything. This movie had me crying laughing one moment and then wanting to throw up mere minutes later. (If you’re squeamish about blood/self-mutilation…maybe skip this one.) It’s darkly hilarious, equal parts charming and devastatingly bleak, and gorgeously shot on the Aran Islands. The former Irish Lit student in me is dying to analyze every part of this movie, but for now, I’ll leave it with the prediction that Colin Farrell nabs an Oscar for this role.

Duolingo — la petite chouette, Duo

I probably could have read at least one other book in the time I’ve spent on Duolingo these past couple of weeks, but I’m simply having too much fun being humbled by this silly little owl every day. At least studying a language makes me feel more productive about my increased screen time, even if whispering sweet French nothings into my phone on the subway platform is highly embarrassing.

That does it for October! Drop a comment if you want to chat about any of these or leave me a recommendation for November! And don’t forget to subscribe to my newsletter below to get the email version right in your inbox next month.

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