Emily Rooke's 3 favorite reads in 2023

The second instalment in the Sir Callie series is significantly darker than the first, with themes involving child abuse; the aftermath of a campaign of psychological torture and trauma; child soldiers; not to mention clear yet deft parallels with a society growing ever more intolerant and inflexible when faced with anyone who deviates from the supposed norm.

That said, the author handles complex themes and mature content with sensitivity, grace, and compassion, bringing the healing comfort of allowing their readers to experience their own grief and process it a little more through the eyes and warm hearts of these beautiful characters.

Certain books just hit you hard, don't they? I knew when I first found this series that it would be personally important to me – and not only to me, but to the nine-year-old wandering the library in search of one book – one single character – I could relate to in the way I do to every single one of those in the Sir Callie books.

There's a particular scene where Callie and their friends are introduced to the term 'pronouns', and a found family of happy queer elders supportively and patiently discuss different labels and terms, where Willow's joy stole my heart. If little me could have read this book back then, how much good could it have done for my mental health and wellbeing?

How many kids are going to be able to read this book and see themselves in Callie or Willow or Elowyn or Edwyn or Teo and recognise themselves as whole and unbroken? This is such a fundamentally important series, and it holds a special place in my heart.

I guarantee it's only a matter of time before In Memoriam is acknowledged as a modern classic, and the fact that this is the author's debut only makes this more impressive.

Spanning the length of the First World War, from outbreak to peace, the novel sections itself into three. First establishing its gorgeously painful best-friends-to-lovers, seemingly-unrequited/actually-unexpressed romance between stoic scholar of Greek tragedies Gaunt and light-hearted poet Ellwood, it tracks the rise and fall of these characters through the hellish trenches of France and Belgium, through to the battle to survive prisoner of war camps, and – eventually – shines a ray of hope on the life that lies beyond the horrors of war.

Most impressive to me is the author's depiction of Ellwood's PTSD. Since she does such an excellent job with characterisation, even from the very first page of Ellwood's arguments with the editor of his school's newsletter, it's devastating to see Ellwood's descent from the naïve sixteen-year-old who enlists as one of countless underage soldiers, through to his numerous acts of courage and recklessness on the front lines, and exactly how scarred this leaves him by the end of the war.

The many In Memoriam pages dedicated to lists of fallen officers, spaced at perfect moments in the story structurally, created such a lurch in my stomach. I found it so impressive how the author managed to recreate the emotions loved ones must have felt while desperately scanning those pages, waiting for any updates on their children being sent out into massacre fields of certain death.

There's an appropriate historical realism to the complete lack of understanding of the trauma these young men are undergoing, and the appalling impact it is having in real time on their state of mind. Not to mention, this is all before even mentioning the incredibly intense yet beautifully tender love story between the two main characters.

Already one of my most anticipated books of the year, Chain-Gang All-Stars smashed every single one of my expectations.

As a reader, what I found most interesting was the question of what exactly the author could come up with that would be so bad that all these characters "willingly" (a debatable term, as we come to realise) choose the killing gladiator fields – and almost certain death – over continuing their sentence in prison. Well... we find out exactly what, and then some.

Personally, I found the prison timeline chapters most emotionally resonant. With characters tortured, stuck in solitary confinement, and targeted by sadistic wardens on an institutional basis, the author dives into the depths of a psychological hellscape that is like nothing I've ever read before.

Criticisms of the relentless violence are somewhat asinine, in my opinion. This is an unapologetic, furious takedown of the current prison system, projected into a dystopian future. Every single detail is chosen to perfection; every creative choice specific to reveal the ugliness of the corporate system and its inhumanity.

What's really worth praising is that the author makes you actually feel it, every single page. It's not told to you – you must feel it in your bones. That often makes for a difficult, painful book to read. But you know what? I'd fill my non-existent bookshelves with books like this, because they're real. This story is unflinching and vicious, and yes, at times absolutely depraved. I loved it for its courage and honesty.