Let's get one thing straight—I wasn't exactly a fan of WICKED (2024). If it hadn't been for a digital screener of the sequel, WICKED: FOR GOOD, landing in my inbox, I’d probably have passed on this whole two-part adaptation of the Broadway musical. For clarity, this musical draws loosely from Gregory Maguire’s book, Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West, which I haven't read, nor have I ever seen the stage production. So, perhaps I’m not the target audience for this cinematic endeavor—maybe my opinion is just like those overpriced popcorn boxes: it doesn’t really matter, but I’m going to share it anyway.

After debuting at the top of the global box office with a whopping $223 million—making it the biggest opening ever for a Broadway musical adaptation—WICKED: FOR GOOD has unfortunately underperformed overall, raking in $200 million less than its predecessor. It's now available to buy (or more appropriately, lease) or rent on digital platforms starting December 30, courtesy of Universal Pictures Home Entertainment. With a commendable “A” Cinemascore and an audience score of 95% on Rotten Tomatoes, it’s heralded as “a sensational conclusion” by Mashable. But I find it hard to see how.

In WICKED: FOR GOOD, Elphaba and Glinda find themselves on opposing shores, adrift in the turbulent waters of their choices. Elphaba (Cynthia Erivo), once a misunderstood sorceress, is now branded as the Wicked Witch of the West, living in the shadows of her exile. Her mission to expose the duplicitous nature of The Wizard drives her deeper into the margins of Oz.

Welcome to the Book Blogger Hop!

This Week's Prompt:

Which genre are you eager to jump into more this year, and what draws you to it?

My Answer:

I have an itch that no modern novel can scratch—I'm reading some classics in 2026. Some titles I’m considering are The House of the Seven Gables by Nathaniel Hawthorne, Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoevsky, Hungry Hill by Daphne du Maurier, Anatomy of a Murder by Robert Traver, and In Cold Blood by Truman Capote, just to name a few.

〜B.J. Burgess

Hello, my fellow Friday 56ers! 

This week, I've chosen Clint: The Man and the Movies by Shawn Levy (the author, not the film director). I'm a big fan of Clint Eastwood, and I received this book as a Christmas gift. It was published in July 2025, and must have flown under my radar; otherwise, I would have tried to get my hands on an ARC. Nonetheless, I now have a copy, and it will likely be my next read.

Now, here’s a glimpse at page 56:

I've been keeping my mouth shut on a hot-button issue that’s been gnawing at me: the death of paperbacks! More specifically, the impending extinction of mass-market paperbacks. It’s all thanks to an utterly bewildering decision by Readerlink, the behemoth that decided it would be best for the entire publishing world to stop distributing those beloved, pocket-sized paperbacks by the end of 2025. Naturally, the BookTok crowd erupted with glee, claiming they can’t stand mass-market paperbacks because they’re too inconvenient for their “sensitive” hands and that they’re a blight on the aesthetic landscape of literature. I can’t help but cringe at the thought that these so-called book lovers may not even be articulating their true feelings. They seem to be riding whatever wave is trending, which might explain their penchant for recommending literary disasters to the masses. Watching the dumbing down of today’s youth is a grim spectacle indeed, and it’s happening right before our very eyes.

To be fair, I get why Readerlink is making this move; sales have plummeted to the point that distributing mass-market paperbacks is simply not worth the headache. So now we’re left with trade and premium paperbacks, while the market teeters on the brink of unveiling a new paperback size—if that ever happens. Who knows, maybe one day we’ll witness a glorious resurgence of mass-market paperbacks—until then, readers in the U.S. who cherished them for their unique cover art, convenient size, and budget-friendly prices are forced to fork over more cash for larger formats that gobble up space and drain our wallets. What really grinds my gears is the sad reality of my local landscape: no bookstores in sight, just Walmart, where the book sections have shrunk considerably since the pandemic. And with the removal of mass-market titles, our choices dwindle even further; the shelves will be crowded not with classics or favorite genres, but with titles that are trending on BookTok, gathering dust for weeks or even months until an employee gets around to restocking.

Welcome to the Book Blogger Hop!

This Week's Prompt:

How many books did you read in 2025?

My Answer:

As of December 24th, I have read 117 books this year on my Goodreads account, exceeding my goal of 75 books for 2025. With just a few days left in the year, I might have time to read one or two more books.

〜B.J. Burgess

Hello, my fellow Friday 56ers! 

This week, I’ve picked up Queen Esther by John Irving—a delightful Christmas gift that’s already had me turning pages like a caffeinated squirrel. I breezed through eight chapters just yesterday afternoon.

This novel serves as a sort of prequel to Irving's The Cider House Rules. I’ve already barreled through the chapters where the St. Cloud orphanage pops up, along with the characters Dr. Wilbur Larch and Nurse Angela.

The story follows Esther Nacht, a nearly four-year-old Jewish girl left on the doorstep of St. Cloud's by two unknown women. Fast forward ten years, and Esther leaves St. Cloud's to work as an au pair for the Winslow family in New Hampshire. I’m gearing up for Chapter Nine, which takes place fifteen years later, where Esther is still living with the Winslows.

As the holiday season approached, I had grand ambitions to read and review the collection of Christmas Westerns penned under the Johnstone name. I even had copies of each one waiting for me. But alas, life had other plans. After enduring a nearly month-long illness, my reading hopes were dashed, and my energy levels were on par with a hibernating bear. Still, I managed to saddle up for one ride—A Colorado Christmas.

The story unfolds at the Sugarloaf Ranch, where Smoke and Sally Jensen are eagerly preparing to welcome their friend Preacher home for the holidays, blissfully unaware that he’s followed by a storm brewing with trouble. Picture it: an old trapper named Eagle-Eye, driven by a thirst for vengeance, gets rescued by the Jensen brothers, Ace and Chance, from a band of ruthless outlaws. Then there’s Luke Jensen, a relentless bounty hunter hot on their trail. Add to that mix, Jim Bleeker—a freshly liberated criminal mastermind scheming to settle his score with the sheriff of Big Rock, Colorado. Now that’s a recipe for chaos!

With a snowstorm howling outside, a community on the brink of disaster, and a showdown simmering just beneath the surface, these stubborn pioneers find themselves united by fate and fury, ready to forge a semblance of peace on Earth. But they plan to fight for it—with guns, grit, and a whole lot of glory. Because this Christmas, the greatest gift of all may just be… survival.

Most people don’t quit reading because they stopped liking books. They quit because their reading life has no shape. One week is full of motivation, the next week is chaos, and the pile of half-started titles grows until it feels easier to scroll than to read. A personal reading map solves this in a simple way: it gives your reading a direction, while still leaving room for mood and surprise.

When that direction is missing, the smallest decision can stall you. Even choosing your next book to read can feel weirdly heavy, especially after finishing something strong or abandoning a slow book halfway through. A reading map reduces that pressure because you already know what kinds of books belong in your current season, and you always have a few options that match your time and energy.

Start with Your Season, Not Your Ambition

The most common mistake is planning your reading life like a fantasy version of yourself. In that fantasy, evenings are quiet, weekends are long, focus is endless, and every book improves your brain. Real life rarely looks like that.

Instead, plan around your current season. Think about these three questions:

• How much uninterrupted time do I usually have each day?

• What is my typical mental state when I start reading?

• What kind of reading experience am I hoping for right now: something calming, thought-provoking, inspiring, or just for fun?

Your answers determine what will stick. A demanding history book can be perfect in a calm season and painful in a hectic one. A fast novel can feel like oxygen during stress. A short essay collection can keep you reading when your attention breaks easily.

A reading map is simply a way to match books to your life, so finishing becomes normal again.

Welcome to the Book Blogger Hop!

This Week's Prompt:

My Answer:

I’m a literary tightrope walker, balancing between the rich depths of character-driven tales and the pulse-pounding thrills of plot-driven sagas. Give me characters so fascinating that they feel like old friends—complex and flawed, haunting my thoughts long after the last page. But if the plot drags, even the best characters can't save me from the boredom blues. I crave that electrifying combo: characters who leap off the page and a plot that keeps me on the edge of my seat. When they collide, it’s pure magic—a masterful dance that awakens my imagination and leaves me sleep-deprived, wide-eyed, and hungry for more. That’s the kind of story that makes my heart race!

〜B.J. Burgess

The holiday season always unleashes a tidal wave of Christmas-themed books upon us. As soon as the leaves start turning, retailers drench their shelves with new festive reads, many of which I suspect fall into the "cringy, silly, and campy" category—think Hallmark Christmas movies in book form. Not exactly my cup of eggnog! In my mind, many of them are little more than candy-coated fluff, devoid of substance. That said, I completely get why readers gobble them up like holiday cookies. Everyone has their taste, and I'm not here to rain on anyone's holiday parade. Read what brings you joy!

However, I haven't completely cast aside holiday romances. That’s the reason I've picked up The Christmas Stranger ^[*], the latest offering from Richard Paul Evans. He’s been a literary guilty pleasure of mine since I first cracked open the enchanting pages of The Christmas Box trilogy ages ago.

Now, let’s talk about The Christmas Stranger, shall we? Picture this: It’s been three long years since Paul Wanless shattered his life in a Christmas Eve accident that claimed his family. If you think he’s just taken a break from the holiday cheer, think again—he's done with life itself. He sold off his computer repair business, the Christmas ornaments are collecting dust, and the idea of connecting with another human being isn't on his radar. Enter a mysterious stranger—Gabriel—who knocks on Paul’s door, claiming to retrieve a laptop. But hold on! This isn’t just about tech support; Gabriel has a mission that’s far more profound. When Paul opens up about his dark thoughts, Gabriel cryptically warns, "I wouldn't do it if I were you. It's not what you think," leaving Paul dumbfounded and questioning reality. This encounter sends him spiraling, but not without a turn of fate when he meets a young widow and her bullied son, shaking up his bleak existence and nudging him back toward the land of the living.

Welcome to the Book Blogger Hop!

This Week's Prompt:

Do you keep up with the hype surrounding books?

My Answer:

I've learned to tune out the hype surrounding new books. It's like watching a circus parade—most of the flashy promotions don't catch my interest unless it's a familiar author. I used to get drawn in by the buzz, often ending up disappointed with overrated titles. Now, I approach the excitement with skepticism, focusing on finding the book that truly deserves my attention.

〜B.J. Burgess

Hello, my fellow Friday 56ers! 

This week, I've chosen A Colorado Christmas by William W. Johnstone and J.A. Johnstone—though let’s be honest, it’s hard to tell which ghostwriter is behind the curtain these days. This book was published in 2016 and belongs to that curious niche of holiday-themed Westerns—yes, you heard it right. Nothing quite like a festive shootout under the snow-laden pines, right? I’ll begin reading the book tonight, and if the holiday spirit—or perhaps my caffeine intake—strikes me right, I plan to whip up a review by tomorrow. If I get overwhelmed by the snowfall of tasks, though, you'll see it next Saturday.

For reasons that still elude me, I find myself enchanted by the enigmatic figure of Marilyn Monroe, the iconic blonde bombshell who left an indelible mark on Hollywood before her tragic demise at just 36. It’s not merely the unanswered questions surrounding her supposed overdose that intrigue me; instead, it’s her undeniable talent that drew my attention. Films like Don’t Bother to Knock (1952), Niagara (1953), River of No Return (1954), and The Misfits (1961)—her last completed film—showcase her ability to transform from a pretty face into a complex character. Ah, but when it comes to her life and death, the plots run thicker than the drama on screen.

Countless books have been dedicated to Monroe, yet most meander through a labyrinth of conspiracies about her untimely death. The latest entry, The Last Days of Marilyn Monroe by James Patterson and Imogen Edwards-Jones, which cheekily dubs itself a "true crime thriller" on the cover, is anything but. Instead, what you get is a biography that barely skims the surface of her “last days,” offering little insight into her tragic end. One wonders: why call it The Last Days of Marilyn Monroe when another book has already claimed that title? And why publish it in 2025, just one year shy of the centenary celebrations of her birth in 2026? Doesn't it seem like a marketing ploy?

The official blurb reads like a Hollywood script: "In life, Marilyn Monroe’s superstardom defies classification. In death, she remains shrouded in mystery." While the world waits for June 1, 2026, to celebrate her 100th birthday, it’s worth noting that she has been absent from the living for far too long. The prologue opens in the early morning hours of August 5, 1962, painting a haunting image of Eunice Murray, Monroe's housekeeper (personal nurse), discovering Monroe's locked bedroom and fearing the worst. When psychiatrist Ralph Greenson arrives, he finds a nude Monroe sprawled on her bed, lifeless, hand clutching a telephone, surrounded by an ominous array of empty pill bottles. The air is thick with sorrow, a sorrow that hangs over her legacy like a cold fog.