Unraveled Wednesday: 4/30/25

I'm here to show you what the Dracula Hitchhiker looks like with the finish of Fleiderbusch (Lilac Bush) and the addition of Lavendel (It's Lavender, but I bet you figured that out without my helpful translation from German.) I decided to take the picture in the grass instead of on the gray slate patio like I usually do and it looks quite different.

I think it looks better in the grass, so that may be where I take photos from now on. There's no Unraveled Wednesday linkup since Kat is on vacation, but every Wednesday is Unraveled to me.

I finished two books this week. The first is one that Kat recommended. Cold Granite is a gritty, atmospheric crime novel that delivers a strong debut for DS Logan McRae. Set in rainy, snowy, perpetually gray Aberdeen, the novel leans heavily into its bleak surroundings—and it works. Stuart MacBride crafts a dark, often grim procedural that doesn't shy away from the brutal realities of child murder, political pressure, and media manipulation.

Logan McRae is a compelling lead, recently returned to duty after a near-fatal stabbing. He's smart and determined but also constantly outpaced by bureaucracy, bad luck, and his more colorful colleagues. MacBride populates the story with a solid supporting cast, particularly the foul-mouthed DI Steel, who adds both humor and unpredictability to the mix.

The plot is dense, but that adds to the story. There are several cases intersecting, red herrings galore, and a lot of running around Aberdeen in the cold rain and awful weather. At times, it felt like the narrative was spinning its wheels, and the pacing sagged a bit under the weight of its complexity. A little tightening might have worked.

That said, MacBride’s writing shines in his vivid (and often gruesome) descriptions and in the snappy dialogue. His black humor is sharp, and the procedural elements feel authentic. This three and a half star novel wasn't perfect, but definitely promising. I’ll be picking up the next in the series.

I was relieved to finish the second book. Night. Sleep. Death. The Stars. is classic Joyce Carol Oates in many ways: immersive, sprawling, unflinching in its look at grief, race, family dynamics, and injustice. Oates is clearly a master of her craft — her writing can be absolutely brilliant, dropping you into the minds and emotions of her characters with incredible precision. There are passages here that are breathtaking in their insight and emotional weight.

And yet . . . as a reading experience, for me this book often felt more like a test of endurance than a rewarding journey. At nearly 800 pages, it sprawls in ways that feel less intentional and more exhausting. While the premise is gripping — a family reeling after a violent encounter with the police — the narrative meanders endlessly, and many threads seem to simply wither away rather than build toward anything satisfying.

Oates clearly isn't interested in "clean" resolutions, and that's fine — life is messy, grief is ongoing. But for a novel of this size and ambition, the lack of any real catharsis or payoff by the end was frustrating. After hundreds of pages of character study and slow-burn tension, I wanted something that felt like emotional movement or growth. Instead, the characters seem just as lost, fractured, and haunted as when the novel began.

Ultimately, Night. Sleep. Death. The Stars. showcases Oates’ undeniable brilliance as a writer, but as a novel, it’s a heavy, sometimes unrewarding experience. If you’re a diehard fan of her work or love character-driven sagas without neat endings, you might find more to love here. Otherwise, prepare for a long, often beautiful, but deeply unresolved read. Three and a half stars, but I can't round up.  

What are you making and reading this week?