The best kick-ass women come from screwed up families

The title made me stop mid-step. Sometimes, a book title is misleading. I’ve been burned before. I finally borrowed it from the library and found myself smitten by the “Dramatis Thingummy” at the very beginning and headlong in love by the end.

I re-read this series often: I weird out my neighbors by laughing so hard I can’t breathe; I seek the community of St. Mary’s. Mostly, I love Max. For all her flaws, her sarcasm, her deep-seated need to go down in flames, I love her to bits. She gives me hope that no matter how screwed up a person may be, they can find love and a place in the world. This is the first book in a many-book series. With short stories. And Christmas specials. All of which I now own.

This book isn’t about graves. It’s about dead people. And I’m all about dead people. This book lured me in with the supernatural component, kept me in suspense with multiple mysteries (including who the hot guy is), and invested me through Charley’s empathy. Her empathy is her superpower and her Achilles’ heel.

I love genre-defying books, especially when the female protagonist is kick-ass without being butch, smart while flawed and hilarious, and child-like without being emotionally immature. Between kicking dead people out of her bathroom and solving their murders, being seduced by the hot guy plaguing her dreams, and dodging her evil stepmother, this book (and the rest of the series) reminds me of the humanity of humans. Charley sees the good in people, alive and dead, and inspires me to see it, too.

This book had me at “Cinderella is a robot.” Oh yeah. I grew up on Asimov and the Three Laws of Robotics. Dr. Susan Calvin was an early heroine. Princess Leia wasn’t just a princess; she was a general in the rebel alliance. At my core, I want to flip the pervasive Cinderella story on its head and regain feminine agency.

This book fits right into my core values of autonomy and individualization while catering to my ‘out there’ imagination. Yes, there’s a rich prince. Yes, he and Cinder are attracted. But she saves herself and him, as well as nudging their world toward rights for cyborgs. I believe Cinder gives Leia and Dr. Calvin a run for their kick-ass money.

I admit it: I underestimated Flavia de Luce.

She is 11 years old, self-schooled, and lives outside a small English town in the 1950s. She is overlooked and underestimated by everyone. Deep inside, I’m still 11 years old, underestimated, and overlooked. I had an insatiable desire to learn about my environment, and I often saw things others didn’t. Flavia also reminds me of my childhood living in the country in the 1980s. I ran unchecked, safe, and constantly delighted in discovering new things about my corner of the world. I wince at the de Luce family politics. I cheer Flavia’s investigations and her fearlessness. I want nothing more than to stay in Flavia’s 11-year-old world forever. She is the kick-ass kid I wanted to be. 

I believe you can choose to be kick-ass. Delilah “Lila” Bard eventually chooses to be kick-ass. Eventually, on the surface, this book is about Kell. But Lila has the true character arc. I love that Lila walks the edge: hero or anti-hero?

My own life has been defined by the choices I make. I wasn’t given a lot of opportunities. I didn’t have a lot of luck. I had to make my own luck. Lila makes her own ‘luck’. She turns surviving into an opportunity to thrive because of the choices she makes. She screws up several times, risking her life and others. Even at the end, I’m not sure if she’s a hero. She’s real and attempting to evolve out of a dim past into a bright future in her own unique way. I relate to that.