Late Night Love

Late Night Love

by: Chayla Wolfberg

February 20,2024 Self Published

336 pages

review by: E. Broderick

The one time I tried to watch Saturday Night Live as a kid was during a sleep over in which we kids were in the basement and there happened to be a TV in our room. I didn’t understand a word of it, but I was with friends and being sneaky, so it was still a good time. Thankfully, I have matured since that incident, and was therefore able to dive into Chayla Wolfberg’s adult m/f romance Late Night Love.

Heroine and comedy writer Emily Beckerman clearly was a very different child than I was. She has been watching the sketch comedy show Live From New York, since she was a child. She finally has her dream job writing for the show, but it has both worsened her anxiety and exposed her to some of the more toxic sides of working in media. However, when a small prank gets her truly heinous boss fired, she finds herself paired up with Chris Galloway as co-head writer for the show as well as co-anchor for the fake news segment that appears every week on Live.

While this might seem like a win, there are some unfortunate strings attached to this promotion. The show is close to cancellation and Emily’s first season as head writer could be her last if she and Chris cannot work together. Chris, for his part, has no interest in working with Emily since he blames her for the prank that got his friend fired. The feeling is mutual because Emily blames Chris for enabling his friends misogynistic, racist, and frankly just every kind of obnoxious, behavior over the years which in all likelihood is what drove the show’s ratings into the ground in the first place. A massive office war ensues.

Since Late Night Love features literal comedy writers, I feel compelled to comment on the jokes. I found half to be hilarious and half to not be my type of humor. Which is about par for the course for any comedy show. But Emily herself? She’s got a wicked sense of humor and I truly loved being in her head, especially the way she ended the first chapter. It really hooked me and convinced me to continue reading. This is good, because the story is told solely from Emily’s POV. It’s a voice that we could use more of in media – she’s a plus size woman that has to think about her romantic partner seeing her shapewear, and also a person living with anxiety.

The romance is steamy, with two very explicit sex scenes that I found to be well done. The third act break up scene went on a little long, especially since the trigger came out of nowhere, but we were already suspicious about some of Chris’s behaviors. The resolution takes place in a way that also involves Emily’s faith and features some of the best jokes in the book (for my taste) since they are delivered deadpan by a reform Rabbi. Truly delightful.

Mostly, I think Late Night Love was really relatable, even for people who are not involved in comedy or the entertainment industry, because Emily is a character that a lot of people can see themselves in. I liked the choice of having the book come entirely through her POV because I don’t think I could bond with Chris quite the same way. Emily had me laughing, crying, feeling all the feelings. I rooted for her completely and was overjoyed to watch her achieve her happy ending.

Note: BookishlyJewish received a free copy of this book from the author.


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Sacred Monsters

Sacred Monsters: Mysterious and Mythical Creatures of Scripture, Talmud, and Midrash

Rabbi Natan Slifkin

September 3, 2007 Adama books

384 pages

Review by E. Broderick

A good piece of reference material is more than just a way for writers to fact check. For me, reading source texts can in and of itself stimulate new plot developments or inspire entirely new stories. For some authors, those beloved reference books will be histories, memoirs, or science texts. For me, they are works of Jewish folklore, Talmud and other bible study, and works dealing with Jewish mysticism and magic. The epitome of such a book, that has so far sparked my creativity more than any other, is Rabbi Natan Slifkin’s Sacred Monsters.

The book features a discussion of various mythical creature such as unicorns, fire breathers like salamander/dragons, mermaids, and my personal favorite the Shamir. However, do not be fooled by my statement about creativity. This is not a work of fiction or written with any sort of creative license. In fact, the style is rather like a Talmud study – breaking down each possible explanation for references to these creatures in biblical and other Jewish texts, and attempting to find rational explanations for them. For some, the intro explaining the methodology used might be too much information, for others the scientific rational given might dull the magic, but for me, the descriptions have always inspired me to find new ways to incorporate these creatures into my work and to do so from a uniquely Jewish perspective. Many of the featured “monsters” are part of the cultural hive mind with characteristics from other cultures and sources. It is a unique joy to find the Jewish versions and represent them as accurately as I can.

The reading is interesting, but it also makes for good writing. To date I’ve sold at least 3 short stories inspired by creatures I read about in Sacred Monsters and there is one novel in development too. Not a bad haul for a single reference text, and I am sure there are many more stories to come.

This is why I am slightly heartbroken to report that Sacred Monsters is currently out of print (Unless you peak French. It appears to still be available in that language). I have my hardback, one of the most expensive books I purchased and well worth the price, in pride of place on my reference shelf. I refer to it often, and am so relieved I convinced myself to shell out the cash to purchase it a few years ago. For those who don’t yet have a copy – you can join me in hoping it gets reissued soon.


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Finally Fitz

Finally Fitz

by: Marisa Kanter

April 23, 2024 Simon and Schuster Books for Young Readers

400 pages

Review by: E. Broderick

It’s been a while since I truly whipped through a book without taking a moment to stop and think on the craft that went into creating it. That’s a consequence of doing this job plus being a writer. I see a lot of plot “surprises” coming from a mile away, and I’m often so distracted by examining the bones of a book I forget to enjoy how the writer has fleshed them out. So it’s saying something pretty significant when I tell you that I binged Marisa Kanter’s new YA romance Finally Fitz faster that a new Netflix drop. I would have finished it in a single sitting, but I do have other responsibilities, and they rudely interrupted me several times. 

The title character Of Finally Fitz is Ava Fitzgetald, a teen Instagram fashion influencer, who goes by the name of Fitz. Thanks to her trendy up cycling and large fan base, she is in NYC for the summer completing an intense program at FIT, learning how to sustainably scale up her brand. The main problem in this idyllic scenario is that her girlfriend, and also roommate for the summer, unceremoniously dumps her right before the program starts. In the most awkward living situation ever, the now ex-girlfriend also starts dating their mutual third roommate. A heartbroken Fitz can barely think, yet alone create, so when she fortuitously runs into her long lost best friend Levi Berkowitz on the 1 train he seems to be the solution to all her problems. Fitz quickly hatches a fake dating plot to make both their respective exes jealous and Levi, who is mostly in this for the help he will receive on rescuing plants, reluctantly agrees. 

The chance meet cute on the subway reminded me of how Finally Fitz came into my possession. I actually emailed the publisher, explaining the concept of BookishlyJewish, and asked for a different title. They very kindly provided that title (a review of it is forthcoming) and inquired if I might like to try Finally Fitz too. Indeed thoughtful publicist, I would. 

The thing is – not every book is on my radar. I’m small enough that most big five publishers are not exactly sending me their catalogues to peruse, and even if they did, I usually have no way to know which ones have Jewish content unless someone, ANYONE, tells me. This is why I rely so heavily on the suggest a book form and my fellow bloggers, writers, and readers who often share this information about their favorite reads with me. Still books can slip through the cracks- like this one almost did. 

Which is actually pretty ironic, because Fitz’s perfectionism and anxiety have her worrying on the page about whether she’s Jewish enough to attend a reform Shabbat service with Levi. I bet she’d be worried her book didn’t belong on the website. It’s a reflection of what I have often noted- Judaism can sometimes magnify our internal mental struggles to the point where some people stop engaging with it, rather than worry about if they are doing it right. Those people need a Levi in their lives. He shows Fitz such kind and caring compassion that she can’t help but find herself developing some more than friendly feelings towards him. 

The romance is low heat, nothing more than kissing, so it’s perfect for those YA readers that enjoy a good swoon but don’t want sex on the page. This adult reader enjoyed it quite a bit too. The focus was on Fitz reconciling with herself rather than someone else magically fixing her with their love. As someone intimately familiar with how mental health can block a person from creating, I really appreciated the message and thought it was relevant for all ages of reader. 

Teenagerhood clearly looks a lot different now than when I went through it. We had no phones to build “platforms” on, and my parents were nervous to let me ride the train into Manhattan let alone spend an entire summer there unsupervised, but Kanter gives a realistic picture of what growing up this way might do to a person. The realities of being a social media personality are universal and cross age borders – and I don’t even post photos or have a huge following. Finally Fitz is also quintessentially a NYC book, with many familiar locations and outings. Locals will enjoy the references. 

I sank into this book for so many reasons, and I didn’t pause to think over how I would frame it, or what angle I needed to take in the review. Much like Fitz, I learned to just enjoy the ride. I’m still struggling with waiting for the other part of my art and creativity to return, it’ll take as long as it takes I guess, but this post was easy to write. That is no small gift from a novel. 


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Wake Me Most Wickedly

Wake Me Most Wickedly

Felicia Grossman

April 9, 2024, Forever

368 pages

Review by E Broderick

Felicia Grossman’s books are easy to recommend for a variety of reasons, but in keeping with the nature of this blog I’ll give you my personal favorite because it is a distinctly Jewish sentiment. Sometimes it feels like the world is looking for any excuse to label “good” and “bad” Jews, as a way to let gentiles vent their frustrations on their favorite punching bags. It’s a convenient way for those in power to divert frustrations from class, race, or economic policy issues and onto a man made villain that has been demonized for centuries. Grossman shines a light on this age old stalwart of antisemitism, gives it the middle finger, and provides a steamy romance for good measure. What’s not to love?

In her latest historical romance, Wake Me Most Wickedly, the heroine/villainess is Hannah Moses, a Jewish pawn broker who does what she needs to do to survive. Hannah blames herself and her temper for getting her parents arrested after a gentile client provoked her as a teen. The trial in which they traded their lives for Hannah’s was widely publicized and the Moses’ family ostracized by both the gentiles who blamed them for all the ills of London and the Jewish community who are afraid to be tainted by association. Spoiler alert for anyone reading – that never works. If gentiles want to hate Jews, they will do regardless of who we associate with or how many of our own we offer up as sacrificial lambs. Hannah learns that the hard way.

Hannah deals with it all by throwing her resources into building a dowry for her sister Tamar. She is hoping that with enough funds, Tamar, who was too young to be included in the original trial, might might be able to secure a husband that allows her to rejoin the Jewish community that shuns Hannah. She has no such hopes for herself. Instead, she is resigned to taking miserable job after miserable job in the seedy part of town.

During one such night on the job, Hannah saves the life of Solomon Weiss, who readers may recall from the first book in this series, Marry Me By Midnight. Sol is immediately captivated by the mysterious stranger with a sharp tongue and mysterious smile even after learning about her past and how it might thwart his own desire to rejoin the Jewish community. Adding a further obstacle is Sol’s brother Frederick, who has distanced himself from Judaism and gone so far as to be baptized in an attempt to integrate himself with the gentile upper crust. Frederick is pursuing a marriage with a gentile widow from the gentry and he fears that Sol’s insistence on being so publicly Jewish and associating with characters like Hannah will ruin his chances. Still, Sol cannot help but follow the attraction.

The romance is indeed very steamy and there are multiple explicit sex scenes, but Wake Me Most Wickedly also full of wicked wit and teasing. Unlike Isabelle, the heroine of Marry me by Midnight, Hannah is no innocent. She is also several years Sol’s senior. This combination allows Grossman to show off more of her skill set. Wake Me Most Wickedly has tongue in cheek humor and biting acerbic banter along with the passion, and I was definitely into it! The tone is also quite suitable to the original fairy tale it retells – Snow White – which has always struck me as a dark story even in the Disney version.

Wake Me also has an intricate social commentary and meditative take on what it means to be a Jew and why we are such convenient fall guys for ages and ages of other peoples problems. It takes time to build that kind of framework for storytelling, so if the book feels like it starts slow, keep going. Things started to really heat up for me around 30% and by 60% I found myself in some pretty action packed moments. There are perhaps a few inaccurate statements/descriptions about food allergy, but as the author states in the content warning, she is not a physician, much less an allergist, so we can just gloss over that and zoom in on what she is a specialist in – namely dark humor, fun sexy times, and historical accuracy.

Hannah learns that the gentile world is not worth even trying to please, that she is not to blame for the past, and the scene in which she does is deliciously fulfilling. Like biting into a juicy apple – crisp and full of things you feel like you’ve known forever but have simply been waiting for someone else to articulate. Lucky for us, Grossman is indeed very articulate and she perfectly encapsulates these thoughts for the rest of us. As a Jew, it is the reason I fell so hard for this book.

Note: Bookishlyjewish received an e arc of this book from the publisher.


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A Fragile Enchantment

A Fragile Enchantment

by: Allison Saft

January 2, 2024, Wednesday Books

384 pages

Review by: E. Broderick

It will come as no surprise to readers of this blog that I enjoy clothes and fashion. By extension, I’m usually a fan of books featuring thread or cloth magic. Therefore, I was excited to learn that A Fragile Enchantment, a YA second world fantasy from Allison Saft, has a heroine named Niamh who possess the gift of sewing memories and emotion into fabrics. Much like Safts last book, A Far Wilder Magic, I was unable to obtain a review copy from the publisher. Luckily, this doesn’t tend to deter me. It simply means I’m a few months late on the review for having to rely on the library (shout out to the three wonderful library systems I belong to!).

Niamh technically lives in a secondary world, but her home country Machland, very much felt like a fantasized version of Ireland to me. She is hoping to make her fortune by sewing the wedding garments of a Prince of Avaland – a country that felt like a thinly veiled England and from which Machland has only recently gained independence after a bloody and costly war. The Machlish make up a large portion of the servants in the homes of Avlish gentry and they are starting to resent their bad treatment. Together with a member of parliament, they are organizing to push for not only better treatment, but also for reparations after the use of Avlish magic on Machlish soil caused a famine.

Niamh struggles deeply with whether or not her working for the royal family is a betrayal of Machland, but in the end she feels the need to provide for her family justifies the job. Furthermore, she is living with an unspecified medical condition that felt vaguely rheumatological to me, which sometimes results in early death. Since Niamh doesn’t know how much time she has left, she wants to earn as much as possible to set her family up to survive without her, even though using her magic appears to trigger the condition on occasion. 

To make matters worse, the Prince in question-Kit- is not interested in Niamh’s services. He is also not interested in his bride, Infanta Rosa, who hails from a thinly disguised Spain. Good news – the feeling is mutual. Rosa is not really interested in him either. They’re both going through with this marriage because they think it is their duty, as countless royals have done before them – but all is not right in Avaland, as a gossip columnist named Lovelace insinuates in their columns. 

In predictable fashion, the prince falls for the tailor and everything goes to hell in a hand basket, but somehow manages to be salvaged in an ending that is pleasantly optimistic even if it feels a little too easy. The Jewish rep comes in the form of Infanta Rosa’s chaperone and ladies maid Miriam who feels very much like a sephardic Jew being given a special dispensation to live in an inquisition happy country. We meet her briefly, but it is enough to get a handle on the situation. 

Much like Saft’s prior work, A Fragile Enchantment is full of fast paced action at the end and a bevy of queer characters. The pacing is solid. However, unlike A Far Wilder Magic, this book felt to me like it did not fully deliver on the cover copy promises, making me wonder if the person who wrote it had actually read the book. In addition, Infanta Rosa’s characterization seemed to shift wildly from the beginning to the end of the book and not because she experienced personal growth or change. Most of all, the red herrings regarding the identity of Lovelace were extremely thin and I was able to spot the gossip columnists true identity almost immediately.  On top of that, I kind of wished the secondary world was more than just this world but with a little magic and a new set of royals in it. That last one is just my taste as a reader – I favor heavy lifting when it comes to secondary world building.

So why am I writing this review and still recommending the book? The romance aspect is fantastic! It’s a really steamy slow burn, enemies to lovers and anyone looking to figure out how to make those tropes work could use this novel as a textbook. The relationship building was deftly handled and had an exquisite pay off. A Fragile Enchantment is a higher heat book for a YA, so readers should know themselves and make their own decision about whether they want spice in a YA. I enjoyed it, but I’m not a young adult, and I’m aware that there is a wide spectrum in what those readers are looking for. I don’t like to put my own expectations on them.

Much like Niamh’s magic, a novel should ideally make the reader feel something. For me, A Fragile Enchantment was all about longing. I felt that yearning from page one and again in a variety of areas of the plot. So if your heart is ready to pine, this is the book for you. 


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Translator Interview: Jessica Kirzane

Here at BookishlyJewish we are preparing to start featuring books in translation. So we were thrilled to sit down with Jessica Kirzane and learn about her work as a translator, including how books are selected for translation and published. Read on to discover more!

BookishlyJewish: I am so excited to learn more about book translation and how it works! How did you get involved in the field?

Jessica Kirzane: When I was a graduate student working on a PhD in Yiddish literature – as a non-native Yiddish speaker who was still learning Yiddish as I was trying to analyze it in a critical way – I found myself turning to translation as a way to express to myself my comprehension, and my interpretation, of the texts I was reading. This was initially a personal practice to support my reading and force myself to slow down and spend time with the texts in close detail. I discovered quickly that I loved translation! I appended a translation of a short story to a term paper I had written on the story, and my instructor told me that the translation itself was excellent (he was less enthusiastic about the term paper, if I remember correctly) and I should consider pursuing translation. Maybe that was a veiled insult, or even an example of a certain kind of academic sexism in which translation work is considered supporting or supplemental to the “more seriou”s work of literary analysis, like women academics have sometimes been treated as supporting figures to “more serious” male academics. But I took it as a compliment anyway, and when I finished my PhD I applied to a translation fellowship at the Yiddish Book Center.

This was a life-changing opportunity to learn about the nuts and bolts of translation and to understand myself as a translator who could interpret and represent an entire book-length translation, something I probably never would have attempted without this extra vote of confidence. Through this program, I came to understand what it meant to see literary translation as an act of literary creation, and to develop my own voice as a translator. I could see how each word in the original bears with it a constellation of connotations and associations, possibilities that a translator has to either recreate or choose from in order to craft a new text that stands on its own terms.

BookishlyJewish: How many books have you translated and what languages do you work in?

Jessica Kirzane: I translate from Yiddish to English. I have translated three books, all by popular Yiddish writer Miriam Karpilove: Diary of a Lonely Girl, or the Battle Against Free Love (Syracuse UP 2020), Judith (Farlag Press 2022), and A Provincial Newspaper and Other Stories (Syracuse UP 2023). In addition I have translated many short stories and poems that have appeared in literary journals and anthologies – some of the writers I have translated include Yente Serdatsky, Pessie Hershfeld Pomerants, Joseph Opatoshu, and Dora Schulner.

BookishlyJewish: How does the selection process work? Do you approach an author, does a publisher approach you, or is there some other permutation I haven’t thought of?

Jessica Kirzane: Generally, I choose what to translate by reading as much as I can. Whenever I read in Yiddish, I always have in the back of my mind the question, “Will I translate this?” Often if I think something would be fun, interesting, or meaningful to translate, I’ll try my hand at a few paragraphs and see how it feels in my language. Sometimes that’s as far as I’ll go – even if I like it, I feel satisfied in having engaged with it just as a personal experiment.

Sometimes I decide to move forward. Often that’s because I feel that the text needs a champion, that English language readers should have access to it and I’m a good person to help them reach the text. In my case (with a few rare exceptions) the author is often no longer living. I have to look for existing relatives because they often hold the rights for the original, and ask them for permission to publish a translation. I then pitch the translation to a journal or to a press, usually when it’s already finished, or in the case of the books when I at least have quite a bit of the text already translated and in good shape. I have never been approached by a publisher – but if anyone out there is reading this and wants to approach me, I’m all ears!

BookishlyJewish: I imagine there are many moments when translation also requires interpretation of the authors meaning. How do you resolve these ambiguities in writing?

Jessica Kirzane: I can’t remember who told me this, so I can’t give credit specifically, but in one of the workshops at the Yiddish Book Center translation fellowship I remember being taught that a good translator has to make decisions and interpretations. If the original is ambiguous, you have to decide on what you think it means, and try to convey that (even if you want to convey it in a way that is also ambiguous, to match the original). You have to know why you are writing it the way you are. If you are unsure, your readers will be unsure, and even confused. Your original author wasn’t unsure – they made a choice. You have to be an author too, and make your own choices, because that’s what makes a good piece of writing.

BookishlyJewish: How much involvement does the original author have (if they are still alive obviously)? Do you consult them during the work?

Jessica Kirzane: I very rarely work with an original author (as I mentioned above). Recently, however, I have translated a few poems by contemporary Yiddish poets. In that case, I have sent my translations to the poet, who has sometimes given me feedback. Sometimes there’s a back-and-forth: the poet is the expert on the poem in its original, but I am the expert on the English version, and on what I’m trying to do with it. I am thinking about the connotations of the words in English and how I imagine they might land with my readers. Maybe I made a change to create a particular rhythm or sound that I feel works for the English version. I don’t simply take the author’s suggestions as corrections. I see them as an opportunity to have a clarifying conversation about how the poet and I both understand the words and their weight.

I did have one very fun interaction, as it were, with the author I have translated most – Miriam Karpilove. She died in the 1950s, so of course it wasn’t a conventional back-and-forth with an author, but it was sort of like that! I had already translated Karpilove’s novella Judith when I realized that in her archive at the YIVO Institute for Jewish Research there was an unpublished manuscript of Karpilove’s self-translation of the novella into English! I did a side-by-side comparison of my translation and hers, and sometimes I took her “suggestions” because they clarified something I hadn’t fully understood or I simply preferred her turn of phrase. But her writing in English felt much more formal than mine, and I was confident in my version as one that would be more readable for today’s readers. It felt like having a conversation about translation with the author, albeit a delayed one.

BookishlyJewish: What credentials does a translator need?

Jessica Kirzane: The bottom line is that a translator needs to translate well. There are MA programs for translation, there are courses in translation, there are conferences and workshops and collectives, and I heartily recommend participating in all these things – having a community you can bounce your ideas off of is not only helpful but absolutely life-giving. There’s nothing as satisfying as being in a room full of translators who can talk together about shades of meaning around a particular phrase. But there isn’t a specific qualification or requirement.

BookishlyJewish: Yiddish is a language full of idioms that carry meaning only from the years of tradition that created them. How do you adequately convey those meanings in another language?

Jessica Kirzane: I think any language has its own idioms and its own cultural and historical context and specificity. The crux of translation is to try to remain true to that cultural specificity while also making the text understood for a new audience. You can do that in a variety of ways: sometimes with footnotes or glossaries to support your including information (such as words from the original, or cultural references) that might not be readily comprehensible to your readers, sometimes by expanding the sentences to include explanations where the original doesn’t have to. For me, a question is always whether I am correctly conveying the tone of the original – is it chatty and lighthearted in the original? Is it formal? Is a particular word that comes from Hebrew there because the author is trying to convey something about tradition or religion, or was it simply a commonplace word and the most apt word the author could think of? Knowing, or deciding, when something is so specific and its specificity is so central to the idea of the original text that it needs to be preserved in the translation is a tricky thing – but I don’t think that’s unique to Yiddish.

BookishlyJewish: I always end by asking if you have a favorite Jewish book

Jessica Kirzane: I have so many favorite books! My favorite book for today, though – just for this very minute – is Yerra Sugarman’s Aunt Bird. It’s a recent book of poetry in which the poet tries to connect to an aunt she never met, who died in the Holocaust, through imagining the texture of her aunt’s emotional life. There’s something sort of translation-like in the poet’s attempts to reach across an enormous gulf and think, or feel, herself into her aunt’s mind. It’s a beautiful book – I hope your audience will give it a read.


Find It:

Diary of A Lonely Girl: Bookshop |Amazon

A Provincial newspaper and Other Stories: Bookshop| Amazon

Finn and Ezra’s Bar Mitzvah Time Loop

Finn and Ezra’s Bar Mitzvah Time Loop

by: Joshua Levy

Katherine Tegens Books, May 14, 2024

256 pages

Review by E. Broderick

A little while ago I was presented with some feedback on a manuscript – the two points of view were too similar. It was suggested that I sit down and and work through how each character thinks and ensure that was reflected in the pages. Not so much their turns of phrase or character traits, but what actually makes their brains tick. I wasn’t entirely certain how to go about that so I took a break to refill the creative well. As is often the case, the break turned out to be the solution. Because I picked up my copy of Finn and Ezra’s Bar Mitzvah Time Loop by Joshua S. Levy and in this MG sci fi about two bar mitzvah boys, I found exactly the lesson I needed to fix my female only, adult, romcom. Because good writing is good writing, no matter the genre.

The book features two boys – Finn and Ezra – who are stuck in a time loop, doomed to repeat their bar mitzvah weekends forever. These two boys live in completely different worlds. Finn is an only child with doting parents, attends public school, and appears to practice reform Judaism. Ezra, on the other hand, has a house full of siblings competing for his parents attention, attends an all boys yeshiva, and is ultra orthodox. These differences, however, are NOT what most sets them apart. When I opened a chapter I could immediately tell whose head I was in, even without a label, because of the different way these boys move through the world. Finn is scientific, his mind whirring a million miles a minute, even if it leaves him a little callous to the feelings of those around him. He has tried every angle and every experience possible to try and break out of the loop. Ezra is more laid back, worried about his family but not so much his mishna, and just goes with the flow. He wants out of the loop, but it never occurs to him to try and break out. He doesn’t even try and use his knowledge of the weekend to get a better grade on the mishna test he has taken five hundred times. He just keeps circling “C”. Yet he still cares about what happens to the people in his lopp – even if they will forget it all the next day.

The combination of these two personalities is hilarity in itself. Obviously, they each have something to learn from the other, and things to learn about their own lives that only become apparent as they provide fresh eyes towards each others loops, but the ways in which they try to break out of the loop are so creative I had to laugh. The side characters are well utilized and the bank robbing sequence – yes you read that correctly, bank robbing is a thing here – is genius. Even the small throw away lines were guaranteed to make the reader smile. I got some pretty serious side eye for the way I laughed out loud when the boys approach Ezra’s Rabbi for help with a scheme and he suggested the boys seek the greatest reward – learning Torah! It was just so exactly what many youth Rabbi’s would say, really spot-on.

Like any time loop book, the trickiest part is the introduction of the loop itself. I was a bit disoriented at first but eventually caught on. So the reader should just plow through the first few pages and settle in. I had no issue fully integrating into both characters worlds but I will say I’m better equipped than the average reader to understand the goings on in Ezra’s synagogue and family so I can’t comment on how a complete stranger to many Jewish rituals and customs would find those aspects of the story. I enjoy when a story is not written for an outside gaze and this one trusted the reader enough to provide a fully immersive experience without overdoing the explanations.

I’m a huge fan of Jews from different religious backgrounds working together. I loved seeing this partnership in the book and how both of the boys observance is reflected on the page, but most of all I enjoyed seeing the world through Finn and Ezra’s eyes. Because even though they are both thirteen year old boys trapped in the exact same weekend, their takes on the situation were so vastly different. It is that fullness of character development through viewpoint details and actions that I hope to achieve when I turn back to my own work.

I received an e-arc of this book from the author


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Slim Blue Universe

Slim Blue Universe

by: Eleanor Lerman

January 4, 2024 Mayapple Pres

68 pages

review by: E. Broderick

All right friends, today things are getting a little wild on the blog. When I receive communications from publishers, authors, or marketing professionals I am nothing if not honest. I’m willing to take a look at almost anything so long as it has even a minute amount of Jewish content, but I am a slow reader and I never promise a review. For one thing, life is busy and thoughtful reading takes time. For another, there are some genres that rarely are a hit with me. Horror is the one I struggle with the most. I’m trying to expand our picture book and nonfiction offerings. But poetry? I never made a statement about that because, unless it’s a novel in verse, it is so far removed from my typical reading and writing it never occurred to me to review it here. 

So how did I come to be reviewing Eleanor Lerman’s seventh poetry collection, Slim Blue Universe? The publicist put it though our Suggest a Book form and I was feeling adventurous at the time. Also, much like the title promises, it is a slim volume so it’s not like I was investing a tremendous amount of time. Lastly, the cover is a deep navy blue with wonderful, universe-representing, celestial graphics. Everyone knows I’m a sucker for aesthetically pleasing, space, astronomy, or celestial type stuff. So I said I’d give the book a try. 

No, I did not miraculously come to an understanding of rhyme and meter, nor did my abstract thinking suddenly improve to the point where I can parse these poems with ease. This is not that kind of review. I fully admit that I could not read a single piece straight through and feel confident that I understood it. That’s not the books fault, that’s on me and my limited skill set. It has occurred with any poetry I am fool enough to approach. 

So why then am I writing a review? Isn’t BookishlyJewish a site for recommendations only? Well, not understanding doesn’t mean I didn’t have a good time. In fact, I’m not entirely convinced poetry is meant to be understood. The people who claim to do so are usually the type of academics who have degrees in extremely obscure subjects and select their thesis topics based on how few people will be interested in them. For me, and probably ninety percent of the reading universe, understanding is not the point. For us plebeians, poetry is about feeling. 

Slim Blue Universe has several sections, and a few references to Judaism, but reading across the poems I had certain recurrent emotions. I found myself reflecting on getting older and also my social media use. How much is it worth engaging with a wide anonymously audience vs. a smaller in person one? What will my legacy be when I die? Do I even want a legacy? When did I stop being young? You get the point. It was a ponderous Shabbat to say the least. 

Are these the thoughts the author intended for me to have? I have no idea. I can never confidently say that for any fiction book either. This is a book review website, not a class in divination. What I can say is, Slim Blue Universe was a quick read that left me with lots of not so quick thoughts to mull over. Some of the turns of phrase and metaphors were very beautiful. Others went right over my head. Will I venture further into reading poetry? Hard to say. But I’d hate for that pretty book to get lonely on my shelf. 

BookishlyJewish received an arc of this book from the publicist


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The Pomegranate Gate

The Pomegranate Gate

by: Ariel Kaplan

September 26, 2023 Erewhon Books

576 pages

review by: E. Broderick

I’ve read almost every kind of fantasy. Some for the exciting new magic systems or secondary worlds, and others for the familiarity of well worn tropes that represent a comfort read. Portal fantasy is typically the latter. As such it can be a pretty hard sell for agents and editors. Therefore, I’ve never written it. My personal form of self flagellation in that regard is YA sci fi, which I insist on writing despite everyone insisting it is unsalable, but I digress. The point I’m trying to make is that Portals are as old as the fantasy genre itself, have a devoted readership, but must to do something really special to make it through trad pub. The Pomegranate Gate by Ariel Kaplan managed to do just that while also introducing a host of intriguing characters, a very strong voice, and a plot so layered it might as well be an archeological dig. 

While there are many viewpoints in The Pomegranate Gate, the two major characters we need to concern ourselves with are Toba, a young lady from a formerly wealthy family who has a host of mysterious talents and ailments, and Naftaly, the world’s worst tailor. Both find themselves fleeing home as an inquisition forces all Jews to leave or convert. Along the journey, Toba manages to fall through a portal into a world of Maziks and discovers some answers about her past. Meanwhile Naftaly seems to feel the need to rescue her and discovers some hidden things about himself too. 

Therein ends my plot summary, because as I mentioned before, there are so many twists and turns, layers upon layers, I will get hopelessly lost trying to be succinct about it. In fact, I would dearly love to see the one page synopsis the author created if she queried this traditionally because condensing this epic into that form would be evidence of true magic. 

Moving on, I’d like to focus on the things I enjoyed the most about The Pomegranate Gate. There’s a system of lucid dreaming in the Mazik world, where these dreams are shared and can impact reality, that was fascinating and also used to great effect in the plot. Then we come to voice. Toba, who feels neurodivergent to me but is never given a label, manages to split herself into two and we get to spend time in both Toba’s heads. In a true show of skill, Kaplan manages to give them separate and distinct voices. In fact, if the splitting of Toba wasn’t so necessary for the plot, I might have thought she was just showing off. Because the SAME PERSON having such distinct personalities and thoughts was kind of awesome. 

Most intriguing of all is how Kaplan pulls off a kind of steamy romance without any actual heat on the page or off. When Naftaly finally figures out he’s never felt desirous of a wife because he, as the reader has suspected for some time, is interested in the other gender, there is a very compelling romance. The yearning is palpable. Even kind of hot. Yet it’s a very low heat book. Forget sex, there’s barely kissing. Somehow it works, even for a person such as myself who typically likes to bring all the heat to romance.

Much like the worlds employed by this book, there are touches of the familiar in the plot, but also stuff that is so unique. Even before anyone steps through any portal the book presents us with a completely Jewish magic system and a community of both humans and magical beings in line with Jewish folklore. It was a comfort read, but also a page turner. Which shouldn’t be shocking since the book does hint that combinations can indeed be superior to their original components. 

Basically – for any writer that’s ever been confused when an agents or editor says something is a tough sell but they’ll be willing to take it on if it does something completely new and different, this is the textbook from which to learn what they mean. It’s a portal that utilizes all the best tropes of portals. It will meet your portal expectations. But it will also be totally different from what you expected. What magic is this?

BookishlyJewish requests a review copy from the publisher, and I believe they attempted to send one, but it never arrived so I took it out from the library. I will always find books one way or another. It just takes longer.


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Ninth House

Ninth House

by: Leigh Bardugo

October 20,2020, Flatiron Books

480 pages

Review by: E. Broderick

There’s something about the “writing community” that has bothered me for a long time. For a group of people that claim to be interested in social justice and improving access and equity, we sure have a real elitist set up for accessing certain aspects of said community. To me, if you have written a thing, whether you intend to publish it or not, you’re a writer/author. You should be able to enter into conversation about that without having to pass a bevvy of tests. Alas, that often isn’t how it works. Got an agent? Awesome! But you still can’t join that private discord until you have a publishing contract. Oh, you have a contract? Awesome! But unless you’re a lead title at a big five your opinions aren’t worth much and you should stay quietly lurking in the corner. Went indie or self-published? That’s so lovely for you, but our debut group isn’t interested in that right now. And don’t get me started on what it means for a writer to be told “no response is no” from some agents who are simply “too busy” to extend the courtesy of a one line form rejection to queries.

While there are many oases of kindness, they are unfortunately exceptions to the rule that plays itself out on social media over and over for the discerning observer to spot. I have never seen anything so hilariously sad as the author who desperately tried to backtrack after she showed her entire rear end by stating that she was “an actual author” only after her big five published book was out. Way to anger half the readership and almost everyone who might help market said big five published book. I’ve been pretty lucky in my publishing journey, but it still grates on me to watch this happen, because I’m not big on prestige based societies that require applicants to figure out an arbitrary secret set of rules that nobody will even talk about. Which is why I absolutely adored Leigh Bardugo’s dark, adult, contemporary, paranormal Ninth House. 

The story involves Alex Stern, the most unlikely of candidates, finding herself enrolled at Yale. Only it’s not the regular Yale that run of the mill students enjoy. Alex’s Yale is a Yale that includes secret magical societies which only a select elite student body has access to. How does Alex, a former teen runaway whose last known associates were drug dealers that died under suspicious circumstances, find herself in such rarefied company? Well, all those behavior and mental health issues that lead to her downward spiral in life were caused by her exceptionally rare ability to see ghosts. 

Alex is recruited to Lethe, the society established in order to police the other societies, as her unique gifts make her well positioned for a job in containing the supernatural. Turns out, her mysterious benefactors at Lethe have been aware of her abilities for a while, but as Alex is quick to point out, they did absolutely nothing to help her until they thought she could be useful to them. Rather than being grateful and taking orders, Alex pushes back against any narrative that establishes her as the unworthy recipient of generosity from such a saintly group and points out their flawed ethics every chance she gets. And she is absolutely right to do so, because mixing magic of epic proportions with young adults that have known nothing but a life of privilege in which they have never met a real consequence is – shock! – not such a great idea.

What everyone else sees as a normal extension of the natural social order, Alex sees as some of the worst moral corruption in existence. And the reader is hard pressed not to agree when viewing the world through Alex’s outsider eyes. Some of the uses these coeds put magic to are stomach churning, including the opening scene in which an undomiciled person’s mental illness is used as a cover for subjecting them to magical experimentation and undesired surgeries. Remember that freshman orientation speech about consent and what drugs and alcohol can do to that scenario? Now imagine there’s mind altering magic in the mix. Yet nobody, including the adult alumnae of these societies, seems to care so long as the magic and the money keep flowing- until the bodies start showing up. That, unfortunately, they cannot ignore.

Alex is like a dog with a bone, refusing to let go of the investigation into magical corruption even when she is ordered to stand down. I was able to spot the major plot twists, the red herring, and the ultimate villain coming from a mile away. What kept me reading Ninth House was not the plot. It was Alex and her constant refusal to play by anyone else’s rules. It was pure joy to watch her gain the upper hand in several situations simply for doing things nobody thought she would do. Because they grew up rich and with certain expectations from life. Thanks to Lethe’s staunch refusal to intervene and help Alex when she first began to see ghosts, Alex grew up fighting.

I can’t help but think about the current nature of traditional publishing and the million of ailments that plague it. It is an institution almost as bloated as this fictionalized version of Yale with offenses that grow ever more egregious while everyone pretends that this is totally normal. It is now common for editors to ghost submissions, publishers are slicing up advances into smaller and smaller installments, and allocation of marketing funds and support is such a black box that the CEO of Simon and Schuster stated under oath that there’s a reason the word “random” is included in the name of Penguin Random House. Not to mention the idea that authors works can be fed willy nilly into AI, often without their consent, to actively train their “replacement.” Meanwhile, authors are told they must follow a specific set of rules, be patient, and take what crumbs they are offered, or nobody will give them a key to the castle. Well, perhaps it’s time we all took a page from Alex’s book and point out that the castle is, in fact, on fire.

The language of Ninth House is dark and gritty which fits the setting and overall vibe. There is a cool use of ladino as a diaspora language having special power over the dead. But most of all, it was satisfying to read about someone who actually has the guts to look privilege in the eye and give it the middle finger. Because maybe it’s not always worth the self flagellation required for the chance at being condescended to in elite social circles. This book will light a fire in you. Don’t let it be for nothing. 

There are many valid paths to publishing, and they’ve been quite good to me as a whole, but I can’t help but notice what goes on around me. Maybe because like Alex, I did not grow in the soil from which the publishing elite springs. No MFA. No Iowa writers course. No Clarion or Viable Paradise workshops. No invitations to fancy exclusive discords (although huge shout outs to all the Jewish writer Discords that are open to all and welcomed me. Same goes for Dream Foundry and the like. You do good work!). So I take great pains to look at ALL options available to me without judging any as more prestigious or better than the other, and when any of them start prioritizing corporate profit over the creatives on whose existence they depend for their very life’s blood, there is a problem. Sometimes it just takes an outsider to see it. 

So what can we do about it? Well, in preparation for the sequel (which I am excited to read) Alex forms a posse. Maybe we can stop judging each other for going trad or indie, having an agent or not, being big five vs. small house, six figure or no advance. Maybe we can try and acknowledge that we are all people striving to create in an environment that is often hostile. Writing relationships shouldn’t be about what we can get from one another but how we can support each other. There’s power in numbers. Kaminando kon buenos.


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