Review: Dragondrums

Dragondrums Cover Art

Dragondrums by Anne McCaffrey holds a particularly special place in my memory because it was the very first Dragonriders of Pern novel I ever read as a child. Long before I understood the wider chronology of the series or fully appreciated the depth of McCaffrey’s world building, this was my introduction to Pern. Revisiting it now as an adult carried a unique sense of nostalgia. I was returning not just to a novel, but to the doorway that first introduced me to one of my favourite fictional worlds.

That personal connection made the reread especially interesting because Dragondrums feels quite different when approached with adult eyes. As a child, I was immediately captivated by the dragons, fire lizards, Harper Hall politics, and the simple thrill of discovering a world that felt so vast and lived in. Those elements remain deeply enjoyable, but what stood out to me now was how thoughtful and character driven this novel really is.

Unlike Dragonsong and Dragonsinger, which focus on Menolly’s struggles to find acceptance and recognition, Dragondrums shifts its attention to Piemur. He had always been an entertaining supporting character in my childhood memory, largely because of his humour, confidence, and occasional talent for causing chaos. Revisiting the novel now, I found him far more layered than I remembered. His frustration over the loss of his singing voice feels genuinely painful, particularly because music had defined so much of his identity.

McCaffrey handles that transition exceptionally well. Piemur’s bitterness, embarrassment, and eventual adaptation all feel believable. He does not immediately embrace his new role, and his resentment is understandable. Watching him slowly realise that his talents extend far beyond singing creates a compelling emotional arc. His intelligence, curiosity, and ability to navigate difficult situations become increasingly important, and his growth feels earned rather than forced.

One of the most enjoyable aspects of the novel remains its sense of adventure. Piemur’s increasingly dangerous assignments and secretive tasks add momentum to the story, creating moments of tension that balance the more reflective character development. These sections remain highly entertaining and capture much of the excitement that first drew me into the series as a child.

The world building remains one of McCaffrey’s greatest strengths. By this point, Pern feels fully realised, with its social hierarchies, traditions, and evolving political tensions all contributing to the sense of a living world. Because this was my first introduction to Pern as a child, I remember feeling overwhelmed in the best possible way by how large everything seemed. Returning to it now, I was struck by how efficiently McCaffrey introduces these elements without overwhelming the reader.

The relationships between characters also feel richer than I remembered. Menolly remains a strong presence, and her friendship with Piemur adds warmth to the story. Their interactions feel genuine and supportive, helping ground the larger narrative in personal relationships.

The audiobook is significantly enhanced by the narration of Sally Darling. Darling once again proves herself an excellent match for this corner of the Pern universe. Her narration carries genuine warmth and emotional depth, particularly during Piemur’s more vulnerable moments.

She captures his frustration and insecurity with real sensitivity while also embracing his mischievous energy. That balance is essential to making Piemur as engaging as he is, and Darling handles it beautifully. Her performance ensures that his humour never undermines the more serious emotional beats.

Darling’s pacing is excellent throughout. She allows quieter moments of reflection to land while maintaining tension during the more adventurous sequences. Her character voices remain distinct without becoming exaggerated, helping preserve the grounded emotional tone of the novel.

Revisiting Dragondrums was both nostalgic and genuinely rewarding. There was a risk that the first Pern novel I ever read might feel diminished by time and memory, but the opposite proved true. The story remains engaging, emotionally honest, and full of charm.

While nostalgia certainly shaped my return to this book, it also reminded me why Anne McCaffrey’s world captured my imagination so completely as a child. Dragondrums remains a wonderful entry point into Pern and a deeply satisfying novel in its own right. With Sally Darling’s heartfelt narration adding even more emotional texture, this revisit felt like reconnecting with an old friend.

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Review: Dragonsong

Dragonsong Cover Art

Dragonsong by Anne McCaffrey was one of those formative books I encountered as a child, the kind of novel that quietly embeds itself in your imagination and remains there for decades. Returning to it now for the first time since childhood was a fascinating experience, not simply because of nostalgia, but because I found myself responding to the story in very different ways as an adult. What once felt like a straightforward tale of adventure and self discovery now reveals deeper themes about autonomy, gender expectations, and resilience that I simply did not have the perspective to fully appreciate when I first read it.

The story follows Menolly, a gifted young woman living in a small fishing hold on Pern, where her musical talent is dismissed and actively suppressed because of rigid social expectations surrounding what women should and should not do. After an injury threatens her ability to play music and her family continues to stifle her ambitions, Menolly flees and carves out a life for herself in isolation, eventually forming a remarkable bond with a group of fire lizards.

As a child, I remember being captivated by the dragons, the fire lizards, and Menolly’s independence. Those elements remain every bit as compelling today. McCaffrey’s world building is as immersive as ever, and Pern still feels wonderfully unique in the way it blends science fiction foundations with the aesthetics of fantasy. The natural ecosystem, social structures, and traditions all feel lived in, and Dragonsong serves as a particularly effective entry point into that wider world.

What struck me far more on this reread, however, were the themes of patriarchy and misogyny that shape Menolly’s life. As a child, I understood that she was being treated unfairly, but I lacked the life experience to fully appreciate how insidious those attitudes were. Reading it as an adult, the restrictions placed on her feel far more frustrating and sadly recognisable. Her father’s rigid beliefs, her mother’s internalised acceptance of those beliefs, and the wider social norms of her community create an environment that feels suffocatingly believable.

What makes the novel so effective is that McCaffrey never allows these themes to overwhelm the sense of wonder at the heart of the story. Menolly’s struggle is painful, but it is also deeply empowering. Her journey towards self worth feels earned because it emerges through perseverance rather than sudden transformation. She remains vulnerable, frightened, and uncertain throughout much of the story, which makes her eventual growth all the more satisfying.

The emotional heart of the audiobook is strengthened enormously by the narration of Sally Darling. Darling delivers a performance filled with warmth and emotional nuance that perfectly suits Menolly’s story. Her narration captures the protagonist’s vulnerability during moments of rejection and loneliness, while also conveying her growing confidence as she begins to recognise her own worth.

Darling’s performance is especially effective in scenes involving Menolly’s music. She communicates the emotional significance of these moments with genuine tenderness, helping the listener understand why music means so much to the character. Her pacing allows quieter emotional beats to land effectively, and she handles the wider cast with clarity and subtle distinction.

There is also a sincerity to Darling’s narration that complements the novel’s emotional core. She never overplays dramatic moments, instead allowing the feelings already present in McCaffrey’s writing to emerge naturally. That restraint makes the audiobook feel deeply intimate.

Revisiting Dragonsong after so many years could easily have been disappointing. Childhood favourites do not always survive adult scrutiny. Instead, I found a richer and more emotionally layered story than I remembered. The adventure remains delightful, the world of Pern remains captivating, and Menolly remains an inspiring protagonist.

What changed was my understanding of the themes beneath the surface, and that only deepened my appreciation. Combined with Sally Darling’s heartfelt narration, Dragonsong proved to be both a nostalgic return and a genuinely rewarding new experience. It remains a deserved classic and one of Anne McCaffrey’s most enduringly powerful works.

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Review: A Wind in the Door

A Wind in the Door Cover Art

A Wind in the Door by Madeleine L'Engle is a thoughtful and imaginative sequel to A Wrinkle in Time, one that leans even further into abstraction, philosophy, and the strange beauty of its ideas. While it may feel more complex and at times more unusual than its predecessor, it rewards patience with a story that is rich in meaning and quietly profound.

The novel returns to Meg Murry, now slightly older and facing challenges that are more internal than external. Her younger brother Charles Wallace is once again at the centre of events, this time threatened by a mysterious illness that seems to operate on a level beyond ordinary understanding. From this intimate starting point, L’Engle expands outward into a narrative that spans not just space but scale itself, moving into the microscopic and conceptual realms in a way that feels both daring and original.

What sets A Wind in the Door apart is its willingness to embrace complexity. The introduction of concepts such as farandolae, mitochondria, and the nature of naming as a force of order may initially seem daunting, especially for younger readers. Yet L’Engle presents these ideas with a sense of wonder that encourages curiosity rather than confusion. The story asks the reader to engage actively, to accept that not everything will be immediately clear, and to find meaning through experience rather than simple explanation.

The depth of character remains a central strength. Meg continues to be a compelling protagonist, defined as much by her insecurities as by her determination. Her struggle with self worth is particularly resonant here, as she is forced to confront not just external threats but her own perception of her abilities. Charles Wallace, meanwhile, is portrayed with a vulnerability that adds emotional weight to the story. His condition creates a sense of urgency that underpins the more abstract elements of the narrative.

New characters such as Proginoskes, the cherubim, bring a different kind of presence to the story. These beings are not easily understood, yet they are imbued with a warmth and wisdom that makes them memorable. Their interactions with Meg and the others highlight the novel’s emphasis on connection, compassion, and the power of language.

The world building in this instalment is less about physical locations and more about conceptual space. L’Engle explores the idea that the universe operates on multiple levels simultaneously, from the vastness of the cosmos to the intricate workings of a single cell. This layered approach gives the story a unique texture, even if it occasionally feels challenging to grasp fully. For readers willing to engage with it, however, it offers a deeply rewarding experience.

The audiobook, narrated by Jennifer Ehle, enhances the novel’s accessibility and emotional impact. Ehle brings a calm, measured clarity to the text, which is particularly valuable given the density of some of the material. Her narration helps ground the more abstract passages, making them easier to follow without diminishing their sense of wonder.

Ehle’s performance captures Meg’s emotional journey with sensitivity, conveying both her frustration and her growing confidence. Her handling of dialogue is subtle yet effective, giving each character a distinct presence without resorting to exaggerated voices. This approach suits the tone of the novel, which often relies on quiet moments of realisation rather than overt drama.

Her pacing is another strength. She allows the story to unfold at a steady rhythm, giving listeners time to absorb the ideas being presented. In moments of tension, she gently increases the urgency, maintaining engagement while preserving the reflective quality that defines much of the narrative.

Overall, A Wind in the Door is a bold and imaginative continuation of L’Engle’s work. It may not have the immediate accessibility of its predecessor, but it offers greater depth and a willingness to explore challenging ideas. With strong character work, inventive world building, and Jennifer Ehle’s thoughtful narration, it stands as a rewarding and memorable addition to the series.

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Review: A Wrinkle in Time

A Wrinkle in Time Cover Art

A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L'Engle remains a landmark of imaginative children’s literature, blending science fiction, fantasy, and philosophical reflection into a story that continues to resonate across generations. It is a novel that invites readers to embrace curiosity, courage, and individuality, all while exploring concepts that feel surprisingly expansive for a book of its size.

At its heart, the story follows Meg Murry, a young girl struggling with self doubt and a sense of not fitting in, as she embarks on an extraordinary journey across space and time. Accompanied by her gifted younger brother Charles Wallace and their friend Calvin, Meg is drawn into a mission to rescue her father from a dark and oppressive force. The narrative unfolds with a dreamlike logic, moving between familiar domestic settings and strange, otherworldly environments that challenge both the characters and the reader.

One of the novel’s greatest strengths lies in its sense of wonder. L’Engle introduces complex ideas such as tesseracts, higher dimensions, and the nature of good and evil in a way that feels accessible without being simplistic. The world building is imaginative and distinctive, with each new location offering its own atmosphere and underlying philosophy. From the warmth of Mrs Whatsit, Mrs Who, and Mrs Which to the unsettling uniformity of Camazotz, the settings are vivid and memorable.

The depth of character is equally notable. Meg is an especially compelling protagonist because of her flaws. She is often impatient, uncertain, and prone to anger, yet these qualities make her growth feel genuine. Her journey is not just about travelling through space but about learning to trust herself and accept her own worth. Charles Wallace, with his precocious intelligence, and Calvin, with his quiet empathy, provide strong contrasts that enrich the emotional dynamics of the story.

The audiobook presentation adds another dimension to this already rich narrative. The inclusion of multiple narrators, including Hope Davis, Ava DuVernay, and Charlotte Jones Voiklis, creates a layered and engaging listening experience. Each voice brings a slightly different texture to the story, reflecting its shifting tones and perspectives.

Hope Davis provides a grounded and expressive narration that captures Meg’s emotional journey with sensitivity. Her delivery conveys both the vulnerability and determination of the character, making it easy to connect with Meg’s struggles and triumphs. Ava DuVernay’s contributions add a sense of clarity and gravitas, particularly in passages that touch on the novel’s broader themes. Her voice lends weight to the more philosophical elements of the text, helping to emphasise its enduring relevance. Charlotte Jones Voiklis, as L’Engle’s granddaughter, brings a personal connection to the material that feels both respectful and intimate. Her narration carries a warmth that complements the story’s underlying message of love and resilience.

Together, this ensemble approach enhances the storytelling rather than distracting from it. The shifts between narrators are handled smoothly, and the variation in tone keeps the listening experience fresh. It feels almost as though the story is being passed between voices, echoing its themes of connection and shared understanding.

What makes A Wrinkle in Time so enduring is its willingness to engage with big ideas while remaining deeply human. It explores darkness and conformity without losing sight of hope and individuality. The narrative may at times feel unconventional in its structure, but this only adds to its charm, reinforcing the sense that the universe it depicts operates beyond ordinary rules.

Overall, this is a beautifully imaginative and emotionally resonant work that continues to captivate new audiences. With its rich world building, memorable characters, and the added dimension of a thoughtfully performed audiobook, A Wrinkle in Time stands as a timeless and rewarding experience.

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Review: Locke & Key

Locke & Key by Joe Hill

My rating: 2 of 5 stars

Based on the best-selling, award-winning graphic novel series Locke & Key - written by acclaimed suspense novelist Joe Hill (NOS4A2, Horns) and illustrated by Gabriel Rodriguez - this multi-cast, fully dramatized audio production brings the images and words to life.

A brutal and tragic event drives the Locke family from their home in California to the relative safety of their ancestral estate in Lovecraft, Massachusetts, an old house with powerful keys and fantastic doors that transform all who dare to walk through them. As siblings Tyler, Kinsey, and Bode Locke discover the secrets of the old house, they also find that it's home to a hate-filled and relentless creature that will not rest until it forces open the most terrible door of them all....

Featuring performances by Haley Joel Osment (Entourage, The Sixth Sense), Tatiana Maslany (Orphan Black), Kate Mulgrew (Orange Is the New Black, Star Trek: Voyager), Joe Hill, Gabriel Rodriguez, and Stephen King (The Stand, 11-22-63), as well as a cast of more than 50 voice actors, this audio production preserves the heart-stopping impact of the graphic novel's astounding artwork through the use of richly imagined sound design and a powerful original score.

Well this book was a real slog for me. I've never read Joe Hills' original comic books but I did find the Netflix adaptation engaging and so decided to give this a try.

It's not that the story is bad, it isn't, it's way more that the characters are bad and their portrayal in this full-cast audiobook is dire to say the least.

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Review: Raybearer

Raybearer by Jordan Ifueko

My rating: 3 of 5 stars

Nothing is more important than loyalty.

But what if you’ve sworn to protect the one you were born to destroy?

Tarisai has always longed for the warmth of a family. She was raised in isolation by a mysterious, often absent mother known only as The Lady. The Lady sends her to the capital of the global empire of Aritsar to compete with other children to be chosen as one of the Crown Prince’s Council of eleven. If she’s picked, she’ll be joined with the other Council members through the Ray, a bond deeper than blood. That closeness is irresistible to Tarisai, who has always wanted to belong somewhere. But The Lady has other ideas, including a magical wish that Tarisai is compelled to obey: Kill the Crown Prince once she gains his trust. Tarisai won’t stand by and become someone’s pawn—but is she strong enough to choose a different path for herself? With extraordinary world-building and breathtaking prose, Raybearer is the story of loyalty, fate, and the lengths we’re willing to go for the ones we love.

I was made aware of Raybearer through Dominic Noble's YouTube channel and as I understand it Jordan Ifueko was inspired to write the book due to not seeing much, if any, fantasy fiction where the protagonist was like her and was intrigued to say the least and I can understand why a publisher jumped on it sadly for me though it didn't work. I think it's mainly to do with this being Ifueko's debut novel and what I found to be a bit of a "and then, and then, and then" style. I can see massive potential in both the story and Ifueko's writing so will probably at least check out the next stories in the series where I hope the writing style develops into something I can really get my teeth into.

Talking about the story I did find two aspects of it rather on the disturbing side: Tarisai's conception and the night time activities rules of the council (to put it delicately). I understand that having a protagonist conceived through coercion can be a powerful image and I've read stories where sexual assault has been used in this way (looking at you Stephen Donaldson) but it's a bit out of place in a YA novel to my mind. Likewise the you can only boink the Emperor rule for the council.

As I read the Audible edition I would like to heap a little praise on the narrator, Weruche Opia was sublime and really brought the book to life... even the singing bits... there's quite a few singing bits by the way and if you're like me reading Lord of the Rings you'll be tempted to skip them... don't

If you like fantasy give it a try, maybe get it from the library first though because I'm not going to be responsible for you spending cash on a book I didn't much enjoy personally

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Review: Thirteen Reasons Why

Thirteen Reasons Why by Jay Asher

My rating: 2 of 5 stars

You can’t stop the future.

You can’t rewind the past.

The only way to learn the secret... is to press play.

Clay Jensen returns home from school to find a strange package with his name on it lying on his porch. Inside he discovers several cassette tapes recorded by Hannah Baker, his classmate and crush, who committed suicide two weeks earlier. Hannah's voice tells him that there are thirteen reasons why she decided to end her life. Clay is one of them. If he listens, he'll find out why.

Clay spends the night crisscrossing his town with Hannah as his guide. He becomes a first-hand witness to Hannah's pain, and as he follows Hannah’s recorded words throughout his town, what he discovers changes his life forever.

Like many I first became aware of the novel through the Netflix series and being of a curious mind I decided to give it a read. Firstly I'd like to point out that I really don't think I'm the target audience for this story which to my mind can only be a good thing... more on this later...

I'd like to address the two central characters first, Clay Jensen and Hannah Baker. Well as I said I'm not the desired audience for this and found one to be a super earnest, weight of the world on my sixteen year old shoulders type while the other is a everything is awful and someone else's fault type. Neither of these characters is much more than a vehicle for a "woe is me" narrative. Am I being unfair? Yeah, probably but it's my review and if you don't like it click away dear friend.

Now on to the story itself; while competently written I feel that it while not glorifying suicide per se doesn't make any effort at all to say that there just may be different options. If just one of the characters given a voice said anything, anything at all, about this I might feel differently about the story... but they don't. I was actually a little surprised to find that the author, Jay Asher is a middle-aged guy and not an angst ridden tween.

The only ray of light I can offer in this negative review is that the narrators on the Audible version are very good and both give a sterling performance

So, there you have it, my review. As you may be able to discern from my oh so subtle hints I didn't like this book, not one little bit. Read it if you want to, I'm not your Mum, but I really do not recommend it.

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Review: The Perks of Being a Wallflower

The Perks of Being a Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

The tale Charlie, the eponymous wallflower, and his freshman year at high school. Through a series of letter written to an unnamed stranger as he navigates his way through the uncharted waters between childhood and adulthood. Charlie finds friendship, love and acceptance over the course of his year. Along the way he also finds a deeply hidden secret from his own past.

I genuinely found this novel funny, touching and poignant in equal measure and for a debut novel it's certainly making me want to try others of Chbosky's oeuvre.

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