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The Book Blog

the book swap cover
06/02/2025

This week, the book blog is brought to you by Kylie Stanley, an SJR State student and part-time library employee! 

 

The Book Swap 

By: Tessa Bickers

The Book Swap by Tessa Bickers is a cute, easy read. One way that I would describe it is a Hallmark movie in a book. The story follows Erin and James's point of view, depending on the chapter. Erin and James have a history dating back to high school. The two were once a best friend trio with a girl named Bonnie, but their trio goes up in smoke when people feel betrayed by a person, they trust the most. Fast forward a good amount of time, and they find themselves in London, not knowing the other one is there. While in London, Erin donates some of her books to a community take-a-book, leave-a-book library. Little does Erin know that one of her prized possessions ended up at the library as well, her deeply annotated copy of To Kill a Mockingbird. Once she realizes, she goes back day after day to see if it is returned to find one day that it’s been returned, and in the margins under her annotations are fresh notes and a note saying to meet him in the copy of Great Expectations. This is the start of a pen pal, a friendship, and maybe even them falling in love with each other without knowing who the other person is. Through their favorite books, they both open up and are vulnerable, but little does Erin know that her new “mystery man” is the one she swore she would never forgive. Now Erin has some decisions to make. Overall, I found this book to be an easy read that reminded me of a classic Hallmark rom-com. 

 

Listen to The Book Swap on Libby!

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05/27/2025
profile-icon Dr. Brittnee Fisher

If there’s one thing I’ve learned as both a librarian and a lifelong reader, it’s this: life’s too short to read just one kind of book. Don’t get me wrong- I understand the comfort of a favorite genre. That cozy mystery where the cat solves the crime? Love it. That twisty thriller you can’t put down? Count me in. But if you’ve been reading the same flavor of fiction for a while, consider this your gentle nudge to explore a bit beyond the usual.

Reading across genres is like taking your brain on a series of mini vacations. One book might whisk you off to a medieval battlefield, while the next drops you into the middle of a 21st-century tech startup. The beauty of books is that they’re doorways- and there are so many doors to open. Why stick to just one hallway? 

I read a little bit of everything: fiction, non-fiction, biographies, sci-fi, romance, historical fiction, memoirs, graphic novels, and more. Some days I want to fall in love, some days I want to learn something new, and other days I just want to laugh at an author’s quirky take on the world. Reading multiple genres keeps things fresh, engaging, and exciting. It’s like a literary buffet- and I always go back for more!

As a librarian, I often hear readers say, “I only read thrillers,” or “I’m just a fantasy person.” My follow-up is usually: “Have you tried this yet?” (insert my latest favorite book). Sometimes it just takes the right book to spark an interest in a genre you never thought you’d enjoy. I once recommended a non-fiction book about space exploration to a die-hard romance reader- and guess what? She came back asking for more science reads (and yes, she still reads romance, too).

Visiting bookstores is one of my favorite pastimes, and I treat it like a treasure hunt. I always explore every section, even the ones I think I know nothing about. I might leave with a novel, a memoir, a cookbook, and a graphic novel- and each one feels like a new adventure waiting to happen. And with the variety of reading formats out there- print, ebook, audiobook- there’s no excuse not to sneak in more reading wherever and whenever you can.

Audiobooks have become a game changer for me (Try Libby!). They let me “read” while I walk the dog, clean the house, or commute. Sometimes, a great narrator brings a story to life in a way that gives me a whole new appreciation for the book. Switching between audio and print also helps me work through multiple books at once without ever feeling bored.

Reading outside your comfort zone isn’t just entertaining- it’s good for your brain! Different genres encourage different ways of thinking. Non-fiction boosts your knowledge and critical thinking. Historical fiction gives context to the world around us. Sci-fi stretches your imagination. Memoirs build empathy. Comedy lightens the load. It’s like cross-training for your reading muscles!

So, if you’ve found yourself in a bit of a reading rut, give something new a try. Mix it up. Let your curiosity lead the way. You never know what book might become your next favorite read. And if it’s not your cup of tea? That’s okay. You can always try another. That’s the magic of books- there’s always another one waiting!

What about you? Are you a genre hopper or a loyalist? I’d love to hear what books pulled you into unexpected genres. Leave a comment and share your favorite surprise reads- I’m always looking to add to my ever-growing TBR list! 

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05/21/2025
profile-icon Kendall McCurley

Have you ever struggled to get through a reading slump? I feel like I had been in one for at least two months. I just couldn’t find anything that held my attention or that I could say to someone that what I was reading was just so good. In romance, like in any genre, there are a few really great books, a lot of ‘meh’ books, and definitely some books that are just hands down bad. For the last month or so I felt like I was stuck in ‘meh’ limbo. I’ve been reading a variety of books, within the romance genre, and just could NOT find anything that really sparked my interest. That is, until I read a book by Jessica Peterson. 

It is rare, but every now and then, you stumble across an author who just gets you and produces the kinds of books that feel like they were written with your exact reading tastes in mind. The tropes, the humor, the characters, and the storyline were so well done that I found a book, and series, that I just could not put down. The two series that I have read by her so far are the Harbour Village series and the Lucky River Ranch series, which is still being written.

Peterson creates these small-town worlds that feel real, like places where you could move to tomorrow. Whether it’s the charming coastal vibes of Harbour Village or the sun-soaked, rustic warmth of Lucky River Ranch, her settings are more than just backdrops. They’re living, breathing characters in their own right.

The absolute best part of her writing is the characters. If a romance novel has a weak female lead, I really struggle to get through the book. The same is true if the male lead is incredibly unlikeable or just too perfect. But Peterson’s characters are smart, funny, vulnerable, and flawed in ways that make them feel real and relatable. I love that her heroines are strong and self-aware, and her heroes are refreshingly respectful, emotionally intelligent, and deeply swoon-worthy.

One of Peterson’s greatest strengths is how she balances emotional storytelling with just the right amount of heat. I found that her romances are as much about personal growth, healing, and connection as they are about passion. The slow burns, the angst, the banter—all of it is written with care and depth. I found myself laughing out loud one minute and tearing up the next.

One of the main reasons why I love the romance genre so much is that when the world feels chaotic and uncertain, these books can leave you smiling, feeling hopeful, and happy. Discovering Jessica Peterson has been a game-changer for me. If you’re a fan of heartfelt, character-driven romance set in cozy, beautifully detailed small towns—with just enough spice to keep things interesting—you owe it to yourself to check out her books!

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Pyewacket, Scott's Rx
05/12/2025
profile-icon Brenda Hoffman
Nakagyo Kokoro Clinic for the Soul prescribes cats to troubled humans.
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The book cover
04/28/2025
profile-icon Dr. Brittnee Fisher

The first time I read A Clockwork Orange by Anthony Burgess, I thought it was just okay. The language was confusing, the violence jarring, and the story, though unique, felt more like a disturbing thought experiment than something that resonated with me personally. I admired the style but didn’t connect with it. I was also deeply influenced by my love of the film adaptation, which shaped how I approached the book- and perhaps, unfairly, how I judged it. 

Now, years later, I’ve decided to revisit the novel (because of this business), and to my surprise, I’m enjoying it immensely. It’s an entirely different experience this time around, and I’ve found myself thinking about why that is. What changed between then and now? The text hasn’t changed- but I have. And that’s the beauty of rereading: the book stays the same, but the reader doesn’t. 

I’ve come to believe that my continual reading over the years has improved my literacy- not just my ability to decode and understand complex language, but my capacity to read between the lines, to appreciate subtlety, satire, and tone. Burgess’s invented language, Nadsat (there was no web guide my first time reading), once felt like an obstacle; now it feels like a brilliantly crafted layer that adds richness and depth to the narrative. I'm picking up on references and rhythms I missed before and no longer rushing to “get through” the story. I’m savoring it. 

But it’s not just about literacy. I think A Clockwork Orange is one of those books that becomes more relevant- and more haunting- the older you get. When I first read it, I was closer in age to Alex and his droogs. The violence felt performative, surreal. Now, with more life behind me, I read the book through a different lens. I think about morality, free will, and the terrifying implications of state-imposed conformity. I see the tragedy of a young man shaped- and ultimately broken- by a system more interested in control than in rehabilitation. 

The themes of choice and consequence hit harder now. I better understand the danger of a world that prioritizes obedience over understanding. And how essential it is to preserve one’s ability to choose, even if that means choosing wrong. The moral ambiguity that once made the book feel cold now feels complex and intentional. Younger me just didn’t get it. Burgess wasn’t glorifying violence- he was interrogating it, questioning the foundations of societal control.

It was also fascinating to see how our cultural context changes our reading. In today’s climate, where surveillance, algorithmic control, and polarized ideologies dominate our lives, A Clockwork Orange reads as eerily prophetic. It’s no longer just a dystopian fantasy- it’s a chilling reflection of our own reality, a warning about what happens when systems are designed to suppress rather than support the individual. 

This reread has been a reminder that some books are meant to grow with us. What once felt alienating, and abrasive now feels bold and brave. And maybe the best thing about literature is that it waits for us- it holds its meaning quietly, ready to reveal more as we become ready to receive it. 

If you haven’t read A Clockwork Orange since your younger years- or if you found it inaccessible the first time- consider giving it another shot. You might be surprised at what you find the second time around. I certainly was! 

Here are a few of my favorite made-up words from the book!

  • Boomaboom- thunder
  • Clop- to knock
  • Eggiweg- egg
  • Gloopy- stupid
  • Guttiwuts- guts
No Subjects
04/21/2025
profile-icon Kayla Cook

TW for discussions of murder, suicide, reproductive health, infertility, human trafficking, and eugenics. 

For thousands of years, very possibly for as long as humans have existed, people have been worried about “the end.” In both religious and scientific circles, the idea that one day we won’t exist remains a hot topic of discussion; for some, the idea that our species’ existence is finite is a source of fear or existential dread, while for others, this comes as a comfort. 

But what might happen if we knew the expiration date? How would that impact our lives and the way we live them? Would we do something to try to stop the end from happening, or would we welcome it? 

Author Lauren Stienstra attempts to answer these questions in her debut novel, The Beauty of the End. 

In Stienstra’s novel, humanity realizes its impending extinction in an unexpected way: the cicadas don’t emerge when they’re scheduled to. In fact, they don’t emerge at all, which prompts entomologists to start digging—literally—and they find that the previous generation of cicadas did not lay any eggs before they died. The entomologists then up all their fellow biologist buddies and begin investigating other extinct and endangered species, and ultimately discover something in every living thing’s DNA (don’t ask me what; I’m not a scientist, but Stienstra is, and this is science fiction, so I suspended disbelief and took her word for it) that can approximate about how many generations a species or individual has left in their genetic line. 

Humans, it turns out, have only about four generations left before the species dies out. Some individuals or families may have more or fewer generations left. While four is the average, some people may naturally score a five or even a six on their genetic report, while others can score three, two, one, or even zero. With each generation, that number goes down, and fewer people are born, which leads to some interesting changes to the society which emerges in this universe. 

Women are encouraged to have babies later (in their 40s or 50s if possible), or, if they can’t wait, to have a lot of babies, preferably with multiple fathers so as to “diversify the gene pool.” If you are a young woman who doesn’t want to have children but still wants to help, you have the option to become a “Mendel,” a doctor who specializes in genetics and reproduction, named for Gregor Mendel, the father of genetics. People who score higher in their generational genetic testing are preferred, both as Mendels and as sexual partners, especially since it seems that reproducing individuals with lower scores tend to have greater likelihood of passing their scores on to their offspring (for instance, if you are a 2, and you have a child with a 5, despite your partner’s high score, your children will almost certainly score a 1, meaning they can have children, but their children will not be able to have children). People unlucky enough to score zero become known as “naughts” and are inevitably looked down upon for their inability to reproduce naturally. 

People are desperate to find a way to stop the “Limit” as that four-generation expiration date comes to be known, and from that desperation come great atrocities. Human trafficking runs rampant. Women are kidnapped and sold. Men rent their wives out to be used like breeding stock. The government gives scientists almost complete autonomy to experiment as they wish, which leads to the discovery that, sometimes, people with disabilities or terrible genetic illnesses can produce children who score as high as 12, which, in turn, leads to more of the aforementioned atrocities, now specifically targeting people with these diagnoses. Families fall apart. People kill their partners and children. Mass suicides abound. 

If you think that all sounds pretty awful, I would agree with you! 

And so, it seems, would the narrator of this story, Dr. Charlie Tannehill, a young woman who agreed to become a Mendel not out of a desire to help stop the Limit, but to continue to live a life as close to the one she believes she would have had if the Limit had never been discovered. Goods have become so expensive, and the social expectation for women to reproduce is stronger than ever, so she sees becoming a Mendel as a way to both continue to afford food and the ability to live as a single woman, and to not have to reproduce. Because the Mendelia, the organization that trains Mendels, takes your ovaries when you join in lieu of tuition. 

Over time, however, as she witnesses the horrors endured by her patients at the hands of her colleagues, and the way her sister and brother-in-law's lives are destroyed by their and the Mendelia’s ambition, she begins to fight back against what society has become. 

This book was pretty heavy in terms of content, but I thought it was a fascinating thought experiment and I enjoyed the speculative aspect of it because it seemed like something that could potentially happen. The last couple of chapters really lost me, but I think that had more to do with my personal preferences than anything to do with the way it was written. I would definitely recommend this one to any fan of speculative science fiction. 

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04/15/2025
profile-icon Victoria Slaughter

Every now and then, I stumble across a book that completely blindsides me—in the best, most haunting way. I Who Have Never Known Men by Jacqueline Harpman was exactly that kind of surprise.

I was just looking for a short audiobook to keep me company while cleaning the house one weekend. That’s it. Something under eight hours, something I could half-focus on while folding laundry or doing dishes. The cover caught my eye first, then the title. I didn’t even bother reading the description before I hit play. A few minutes in, though, I was hooked—and not long after, I found myself sitting on the kitchen floor, back against a cabinet, completely floored by the story unfolding in my ears.

Here’s the official description from Libby:

Deep underground, forty women live imprisoned in a cage. Watched over by guards, the women have no memory of how they got there, no notion of time, and only a vague recollection of their lives before. As the burn of electric light merges day into night and numberless years pass, a young girl—the fortieth prisoner—sits alone and outcast in the corner. Soon she will show herself to be the key to the others' escape and survival in the strange world that awaits them above ground.

It sounds dystopian, and it is—but it’s also something more: sparse, poetic, philosophical, and deeply introspective. At just around six hours long (or 184 pages in print), it’s not a lengthy read. But trust me when I say: this book holds power. A quiet, aching kind of power that lingers long after you’ve finished the last sentence.

There’s this misconception that short books can’t hit as hard as epics. But I Who Have Never Known Men proves otherwise. It’s a book that made me pause, reflect, and want to start it all over again the moment it ended.

It made me think about womanhood—what it means to be a woman when you’ve been completely removed from societal expectations of gender, love, and relationships. It made me reflect on the importance of community, and also the quiet strength in being alone. It’s about survival and curiosity, about being brave enough to explore the unknown even when everything feels uncertain.

It doesn’t offer every answer. In fact, it leaves you with quite a few questions. And honestly? I’m okay with that. Sometimes a book doesn’t need to tie everything up neatly to leave a lasting impact.

So if you’re looking for something short but profound—something that will haunt you in the quiet moments and make you look at the world just a little differently—give I Who Have Never Known Men a chance. Just maybe don’t try to multitask while you’re reading it. You might end up sitting on your kitchen floor, heart cracked open, wondering how a book so small could hold so much.

 

You can listen through SJR State Library's Libby!

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04/07/2025
profile-icon Dr. Brittnee Fisher

This week, we welcome another great blog post from History Professor and Library Super User Matt Giddings! 

 

Jeff VanderMeer and Weird Science Fiction

OR

“There’s a fungus among us, and it’s going to kill me.”

                Jeff VanderMeer is a science fiction writer who lives and works in Tallahassee, Florida, a setting that has inspired his most well-known work (The Southern Reach series). However, today, I’d like to discuss some of his less well-known works – the Ambergris series. These books are, well, weird. Really, all of VanderMeer’s writing is, but I’d argue that these books are perhaps the weirdest.

                The Ambergris series begins with a lengthy collection of short stories titled “City of Saints and Madmen” – the title refers to Ambergris, the city in which the majority of the stories are set and which is named for “the most secret and valued part of the whale.” Frankly, this set of stories defies easy description – one early edition of it had a short story on the inside of the dust jacket written in code (mercifully decoded and printed in the book in later editions). Ambergris is a moldy, dank, crumbling metropolis inhabited by humans who have, at some point in the past, driven the aboriginal inhabitants of the city underground. In this case, quite literally so, as these mysterious beings are called “Gray Caps” and seem to be fungus people. The Gray Caps lurk in the background throughout the stories, which mostly revolve around art criticism, madness, and an annual festival involving the reproductive habits of river squids. 

                 VanderMeer followed this collection up with a novel, “Shriek: An Afterword.” Randomly, I grabbed this off the shelf last week (or perhaps a gust of dank crypt air, laden with spores, wafted from a crepuscular corner of the library and impelled me to select this particular tome- who can say?) and took a trip back up the river Moth to Ambergris. “Shriek” is a much more straightforwardly presented text, in this case the memoir of a famous Ambergrisian art critic named Janice Shriek (a character readers of “City of Saints and Madmen” will have encountered). Janice writes about the strange and strained relationship she has with her brother Duncan, who has become fascinated with the Gray Caps and the alleged atrocities they have committed against the residents of Ambergris. 

                What makes “Shriek” an interesting read to me is the text and the subtext. Janice recounts her brother's activities, sometimes quoting his diaries or letters but at other times recounting her suppositions about his life and works. Duncan, who is far from dead, annotates the work with his own commentary, providing a real view of his activities. Well, what he thinks is real. So, “Shriek” is a memoir by an unreliable narrator, with commentary by another unreliable narrator about subjects for which reliable narration may be impossible. 

                Or, to put it bluntly, it’s exactly the kind of work VanderMeer would write. 

                I’m a big fan of this whole series, and I like “Shriek” more than I thought I would. It’s connected to the central mystery of the series – those odd, unsettling, and potentially malevolent Gray Caps – which is the thing that I wished “City of Saints and Madmen” had spent more time explaining. There is a sequel, “Finch”, which is apparently a noir-ish murder mystery which I already have and will probably read next. 

                Have you read any of VanderMeer’s work? Do you like fungus or weird stories or madness? Come find me at the book club (or on the St. Augustine or Palatka campuses) and share! 

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Harry Potter Decorative Image
03/31/2025
profile-icon Dr. Brittnee Fisher

Special thanks to this week's blog contributor, Kylie Stanley. Kylie is both a student and part-time employee at SJR State. It has been exciting to watch her Harry induced emotional journey! 

 

Growing up in the early 2010s, I always heard my peers talking about the Harry Potter series and movies. Everywhere I turned, it was “Harry Potter” this and “Harry Potter” that, but I had no interest in fantasy. I was a Diary of a Wimpy Kid, Dork Diaries, historical fiction kind of girl—the furthest genres from fantasy. I didn’t try to open my mind to Harry Potter until I was 20. When I started the series on Christmas Day in 2024, I really only started it because I had received a Kindle, and the first Harry Potter book was one of the very few popular books included with my Prime membership, so I gave it a try. The first book’s reading level is around that of a fourth grader, but even as a 20-year-old, Rowling has a way of making you feel like you are at King’s Cross with Harry. I finished the first book in a couple of days, not realizing that I would end the series loving every book while also becoming obsessed with almost anything Harry Potter-related.

As I moved on through the series, the phrase “the books grew with their audience” came to mind often. This statement, along with the fact that Voldemort doesn’t have a nose and Harry Potter slept under the stairs (all because of Jessie and Good Luck Charlie on Disney Channel), were the only things I knew about the Harry Potter series when I started. To say the books grew with their audience is extremely true. The series starts out with a couple of eleven-year-old witches and wizards beginning their school careers at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The first three books are more geared toward younger readers. The fourth through the seventh books are when the series begins to mature for older readers. During this time, readers start to encounter more violence, betrayal, and even death. Overall, I absolutely loved the series and would suggest it to anyone—even if they don’t like fantasy—to give it a try! Now, I’m off to watch the movies to see how they compare (even though we know the books are always better).

No Subjects
03/24/2025

Kelsey Rodgers has been an attendee of the Palatka campus Book Club since August 2022 and a regular guest-blogger on the Book Blog. She has also published several original poems and plans to pursue a degree in Creative Writing following her graduation from SJR State.


Life has increasingly become more tedious since my 22nd birthday last November. I have been in the process of finishing my last semesters here at SJR State, applying to university, and questioning what my life will look like after leaving my home for the first time. The overwhelming transition from this new stage of life has led to a massive reading slump, the likes of which I haven’t experienced since starting to find a love of reading back in 2022. 

These past few months were also very influential on my mental health. The growing pains of adulthood seemed to highlight feelings of isolation and misunderstandings that usually float in the back of my mind. In my experience focusing on my education tends to help drown out these thoughts. However, this time focusing on my education path seemed to accelerate how often my anxieties flashed across my mind. So, words can’t express the relief of spring break offered. 

During this break, some days were more relaxing than others. The days I spent locked and resting in my room helped. Unfortunately, the days soon after were full of college emails, studying, and planning papers. Exhaustion followed not too long afterwards again. I decided to take a nap, which was disturbed by the book I stopped reading (and never finished) last year falling on the floor. I still don’t know why I felt the need to read it again, but I did. 

After one chapter, I couldn’t put it down.

Plain Bad Heroines by Emily M. Danforth is about a movie production whose plot is inspired by a fictional queer feminist book written by the main character, Merritt Emmons. Merritt’s book is based on two schoolgirls named Flo and Clara who were found dead after starting a private club called The Plain Bad Heroines Society in 1902. 

When reading, I was reminded of what it felt like to be understood. I found characters like Harper to have a similar complex relationship with her queerness and her parents like me. The character Merritt is a writer and talked about her writing slump after her successful 1st novel. She didn’t want to talk about her next idea her writing since “it wasn’t done yet.” Then shortly followed the quote that inspired me to write about my own reading slump: “If you’re determined to sail such ruinous waters you might as well boast about the voyage.” I finally felt the weight of my shoulders lift after hours of my nose within this book. 

Throughout my journey reading the novel, I’m reminded how important representation within literature is. Reading provides such a personal look into characters’ minds. These personal perspectives help readers feel a sense of connection in a way other mediums can not. 

I am still too early within the novel to make a full flushed out review. However, it is safe to say I’m enjoying the ride it is taking me on. I’m grateful to have such a great book to get me out of my first ever dreaded reading slump!

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