Far too fucking crabby to expose other humans to my nonsense tonight. Starting a book about Emmett Till and then doing my mandatory child abuse training tonight may have been a bit too much for a Sunday night.
#REVIEW: My Sister, the Serial Killer, by Oyinkan Braithwaite

An interesting thing happened while I was thinking about reviewing this book: I popped over to Goodreads, saw my review, and knocked it down a star. Don’t misunderstand me; that change was from five stars to four, and this is still a book I enjoyed reading and can recommend to people. But if you’re going to read something by Oyinkan Braithwaite, and you should, you ought to start with Cursed Daughters, which I can be much more enthusiastic about.
MStSK begins on the floor in a bathroom, as our main character Korede uses bleach to remove the blood of her sister’s murdered boyfriend. Her sister, Ayoola, is perching on the toilet, blood drying on her body, as she waits for her sister to remove the evidence of her kill. Later, the two of them will dump the body off of a bridge into a lagoon below, hoping the local wildlife gets to it before anyone finds it.
(There are going to be some spoilers, more than I usually have in a review, so be aware of that. The tl;dr of the rest of the review is that I think this book would have been better if it had more room to breathe, and I don’t think it lived up to its own promise. It’s not a bad book, it’s just a distinct step down from Daughters.)
It is, as it turns out, the third boyfriend Ayoola has murdered, and the third Korede has helped her dispose of. Strangely, the police don’t seem to have noticed any sort of pattern, although Braithwaite is quick to emphasize how easily bribed and incompetent Nigerian police are. Ayoola is eventually questioned about this current boyfriend’s disappearance, but the body is never found and she’s never in any serious danger of arrest. And we don’t really get any details about the previous killings.
Here’s the thing: I read this in a couple of big gulps (and it’s short, so you probably will too) and in the moment it was a fun and interesting read. And it’s still a fun and interesting read, but it’s one of those books where a couple of days later the holes are going to start to show. Ayoola is younger and prettier than Korede, and has much better luck with men, and Korede is the more studious and responsible one as well. And eventually Ayoola meets the hot doctor that Korede has a crush on at her job (she’s a nurse; Ayoola is unemployed) and of course he falls for her, and this is supposed to be where the big emotional crux of the novel is, as Korede tries to decide what to do about the whole situation, but it just sort of fizzles. Ayoola temporarily abandons the doctor to fuck off to Dubai with another guy, this one married, and he somehow dies of either food poisoning or a drug overdose while they’re gone, a story Korede immediately doubts, and eventually she tries to stab the doctor but he ends up stabbing her himself in self-defense. Then Ayoola finds another man, and the book ends as Korede comes down the stairs in their home to meet him.
That sounds worse than it is, partially because I’m still in the bad mood I’ve been in all week, but I think the main problem with this book is missed potential. It’s about 220 pages long, and I think it could have used another thirty or so at least, and another hundred pages wouldn’t have been a problem. There’s a lot of backstory spent on Ayoola and Korede’s deceased (and abusive) father, and a side plot about a man in a coma who Korede has been caring for and using as her own private confessional, who wakes up and remembers more of what she told him than she expected. He wakes up and decides he’s in love with Korede, divorces his wife, and sort of hints around that he’s willing to hold what he knows over her head, but it doesn’t end up going anywhere.
So, yeah. Read more Nigerian fiction. Read Braithwaite. Just don’t start with this one.
In which my job is impossible

This isn’t the usual rant, although I’m pretty sure after 5,485 posts over the last thirteen-plus years, I’ve probably written it before. I locked grades for the first quarter today, and in keeping with previous practice today’s classes were given over to test retakes and missing work, or for doing nothing if you were satisfied with your grade.
Y’all, I only had twelve kids fail my class this quarter. That’s out of a hundred and thirty-four. That’s 8.9 percent. Thirty-two in my regular Math class are getting an A, plus seventeen more in my Algebra and Math lab classes. 36.5%.
I gotta admit, that number feels too high, although it’s skewed by my other two classes being Algebra and a Math Lab class that nonetheless is full of Algebra students. But even my regular Math classes managed 29.6% getting an A. That’s crazy.
To put this in perspective, I have had plenty of individual classes where more than 12 kids were failing. Typically if it’s below fifteen percent I feel okay about it. I really want to go back over the last few years and compare my grades during first quarter to see if I’m just remembering wrong.
So, what am I doing right now? Congratulating myself on, at the least, motivating more kids to get their work done, because it’s not like there’s anything I can do if they choose to do nothing? Marveling at how my command of my craft means that my kids are really learning this year, and that’s the reason grades are up?
Nah, of course not; I’m trying to figure out where I’ve gotten easier and lazier about grading. There is no good news in my goblin brain, and there are a million ways to take anything that looks like good news and turn it into bad news.
Tomorrow, I get to remind everyone that grades are starting over, and because of that when half of them don’t turn in their assignment tomorrow, that half will wake up on Saturday morning and find out they’re failing Math. I’m also super psyched about the way the good news is only going to last for about a day.
Well FINE

No book reviews for you, you bums!
Which is fine, honestly, because I’m just as crabby tonight as I have been all week, and I’m completely convinced that tomorrow is going to be annoying. I want to gripe about how my kids shat the bed on a test again today, but they didn’t, really; the average for everybody is a C, which is right about what you’d expect, and had I given it three weeks ago it would have been about a 10%, so I have actual evidence that learning happened. Just not, like, evenly. Which is the perennial gripe of my job.
They aren’t allowed to talk to me at all tomorrow, by the way. I’m handing each kid a piece of duct tape or a stapler, their choice, when they walk into the room. Here is your progress report. You have until 3:20 to fix it. Go away.
Choose your own book review
Since reading “Threshing Day,” I have finished four books. That’s not as ridiculous as it sounds; they’re all really short. That said, let me know if you want to see any reviews of these, since I’ve got a bit of choice paralysis going on right now:




I only just started Nicked tonight, but it’s about stealing St. Nicholas’ corpse, and it’s already sent me scurrying to Wikipedia to check a historical claim which turned out to be true. It’s only 220 pages, though, so I’ll finish it just as quickly as the others. The short version is that I enjoyed all of them, but let me know if you want more details.
I wanna be sedated
I have been in a miserable, hateful mood all day today, I forgot my coffee this morning before leaving for work, and I had a dream last night that has knocked me so thoroughly out of sorts that I’m genuinely starting to think I need to look into a therapist. I have been a fucking mess for the entire day, to the point where one of my third hour kids noticed. The last time I tried talking to a therapist was quite a while ago and didn’t really do me any good, but there’s probably more than one out there, right? Maybe I’ll try one of the others.
#REVIEW: Threshing Day, by Rebecca Yarros

This isn’t really going to be a review; if you have already read the three Empyrean books you’ve probably already bought this, and no one is going to start with it. It’s a novella with thirteen short stories about the day thirteen characters from the series met their dragons, and because of that, in a lot of ways it’s thirteen of the same story. There’s no one out there who needs to be convinced to buy this or not to buy this; it’s already baked in. No sane person would start the series with this book.
That said, I’m kind of crabby right now, and I have to put tomorrow’s lessons together and I don’t want to, and I don’t have a whole hell of a lot of other stuff to write about, so I want to make this point: this is a really cool special edition, guys, and if there’s any chance that you were going to pick this up and for some reason you haven’t yet, you probably want to grab it this weekend. The first printing has full-color artwork of all thirteen of the dragons to start each chapter, and full-color endpapers, and even the dragon silhouettes at the bottom of each page are in color, and in general the whole book looks amazing. With all the color artwork and the sprayed edges I’m surprised the book was only $24.99; the “standard edition” that is already showing up on Amazon has none of that for the same price and you may as well wait for paperback at that point.
The current mystery: I saw a video on TikTok of someone taking the dust cover off of their copy, and the actual front cover was dragon scales, and it was gorgeous, and I can’t find any evidence that it was real. My copy has just a basic black cover with the name and author printed in silver on the spine, and we were in Barnes and Noble the other day and theirs were the same. Google has not helped me, and naturally I can’t find the video any longer. If you know if the scales edition is real, let me know, because I need one. Book goblin has spoken.
EDIT: Ohhhhh you dirty bastards it’s the German version.

