Uncreated Conscience

Ash by Malinda Lo

If any of you follow me on Twitter, you’ll know that I’ve been waiting (for what seems like forever) for Malinda Lo‘s ASH to be delivered to me from Amazon. ASH arrived at long last yesterday and I devoured the book in one sitting.

This review comes in two parts: a review of the book itself and a few thoughts on what this book meant to me emotionally: as a bisexual woman, as a person of biracial Asian descent, and my slight crush on the author whom I have been, um, online stalking ever since I heard about this book. (I’m not scary, I swear!)

ASH first came to my attention when buzz went about the YA blogosphere about the so-called “lesbian Cinderella”. It was garnering good critical reviews from book bloggers and I liked that a novel—a young adult novel—with queer themes was being so well-received. Not that young adult novels don’t deal with LGBT themes at all, but like other “minority” books, sometimes the story is all about the “issues” and not about, well, just the people. (Please see: my dislike of most Asian-American protagonists.)

ASH is a story about a girl recovering from grief and finding the will and desire to carry on.

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It’s been a long time since I’ve had to wash chlorine out of my hair.

There are things I love about southern California: that I woke up yesterday to a chilly overcast morning, that by 10:00am it was warm enough to swim in my parents’ complex’s outdoor pool, and that it was cool enough all day to never need air-conditioning.

Yesterday I saw Star Trek again after having been thwarted in my quest for a decent swimsuit. (Spock is just as hot, if not hotter, the second time around. Also, I did not realise Zachary Quinto was Sylar from Heroes. Somehow this makes it all more awesome because he is a villain.) What is it with tie-dyed animal print bikinis this season? They are simply the ugliest things I’ve ever seen in my life. Have I missed out on last year’s retro-inspired styles? And do cute-but-sturdy-enough-for-surfing bikinis exist?

In addition to running all over dodge for a non-hideous swimsuit, I found myself searching the length and breadth of Pasadena for Sarah Rees Brennan‘s THE DEMON’S LEXICON, as every bookstore I knew failed to have it on its shelves. On its release day. Bookstore fail.

Nevertheless, I was eventually successful in my quest for the book (if not the bikini) and without further ado:

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