Welcome to the Book Blogger Hop!

This Week's Prompt:

Which book pairs perfectly with a certain snack in your opinion?

My Answer:

Absolutely nothing! When I read a book, the last thing I want is a pesky snack threatening to mar the delicate pages with unsightly stains. It’s a sacrilege in my mind. The same goes for my Kindle—one smudge on that pristine screen and my heart sinks. If coffee counts as a snack, then I suppose I’m guilty as charged; there’s something beautifully indulgent about sipping a rich Java while lost in the labyrinth of a good story: just me, my book, and a steaming mug.

〜B.J. Burgess

Hello, my fellow Friday 56ers! 

I've decided to take a short break from reading ARCs and make room for a classic. With a snowstorm expected to begin tonight, I probably won’t have anything else to do but read anyway. So, why read a classic?

This week’s pick for Friday 56 is In Cold Blood by Truman Capote. Published in 1966, the book tells the true story of the 1959 murders of the Clutter family in Holcomb, Kansas, along with the subsequent capture and execution of the killers, Richard "Dick" Hickock and Perry Smith. The book was adapted into a feature film in 1967 and a television miniseries in 1996. I’ll be reading the Modern Library edition published in 2013, which I received as a Christmas gift from a friend.

Let's take a moment to explore a thought-provoking question: What motivates an author or a team of authors to create a prequel for a long-running series? Is it merely a cash grab? A clever marketing strategy? A signal that they’ve run out of fresh ideas? Or perhaps it’s a story they’ve long been eager to share with the world? No matter the reason, Pendergast: The Beginning by Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child is set to hit both physical and digital bookstores on January 27th, courtesy of Grand Central Publishing. This marks the 23rd installment in the Agent Pendergast series and the first prequel, a journey that began in 1995 with the enthralling Relic.

The pequel kicks off with a brief prologue set in 1989, but the bulk of the story unfolds in August 1994. The plot centers around Special Agent Dwight Chambers, whose life has shattered into pieces in just six short months. First, he loses his partner in the line of duty, and then the cruel grip of fate snatches away his wife. As he returns to the New Orleans Field Office, Chambers finds himself burdened with the unenviable task of mentoring a fresh-faced FBI agent—one A.X.L. Pendergast. As Chambers grapples with his personal demons, Pendergast's enigmatic and often infuriating personality does not make things easier. He quickly finds himself drawn into a reckless stunt that costs them both their jobs.

I often find myself drifting through the literary landscape without much awareness of the buzz surrounding upcoming releases, which means I occasionally miss out on noteworthy titles. This brings me to Queen Esther by John Irving, an intriguing sort of prequel/sequel to his 1985 The Cider House Rules. That novel was adapted into a film in 1999, a project that Irving scripted himself and for which he won an Academy Award for Best Adapted Screenplay. It’s one of my all-time favorite movies— rare is the case where the film surpasses the book, but in this instance, I think it genuinely does. Admittedly, I have a copy of the book tucked away somewhere on my shelf, gathering dust.

I wasn’t even aware of Queen Esther’s existence until it appeared as a Christmas gift, which took me by surprise. How had it flown under my radar? My usual sources—other book bloggers—seemed to have little to say about it. After a quick look at Goodreads, I found the reviews were decidedly mixed, with many verging on negative. This contradiction piqued my curiosity. What could elicit such a range of responses? I intended to read just a few pages that Christmas afternoon, but the story quickly drew me in, compelling me to devour much more than I had planned.

However, as I turned the pages in the ensuing days, my initial intrigue began to fade. After a staggering forty-year absence, Irving returns to the world of St. Cloud’s orphanage, where Dr. Wilbur Larch first encountered Esther, a Jewish girl whose life has been irreparably scarred by anti-Semitism.

The Sunday Post, Issue #288

The Sunday Post is a weekly event hosted by Caffeinated Reviewer.

The Editorial

It’s been a minute since my last Sunday Post... No excuses here; I simply took a break from blogging to clear my mind and recalibrate. I embarked on a two-week expedition through my beloved book collection, a journey that culminated in a car trunk brimming with volumes I no longer needed, all destined for the local Salvation Army. Amongst them was an impressive stack of James Patterson titles—some I'd never contemplate reading again—mixed with a hodgepodge of other authors. Why the purge, you ask? Well, my shelves are overflowing, and let's face it, I don't have the luxury of infinite space. I would have given up more, but alas, I ran out of boxes—not exactly the ideal situation for a bibliophile!

Welcome to the Book Blogger Hop!

This Week's Prompt:

Is there a book or series so precious to you that you wouldn’t want it adapted for screen, fearing it might be ruined? If it did happen, would you still find yourself watching it?

My Answer:

These days, there's a 90% chance that Hollywood will mishandle any book-to-film adaptation. However, as long as the adaptation brings attention to the book, I don't mind if the movie is good or bad; in fact, I probably won't watch it anyway since I don't see many new films. That said, I never want Hollywood to remake Harper Lee's To Kill a Mockingbird. To me, the original film is perfect, even though it omits a few scenes from the book. There are too many producers involved, and they often lack the necessary understanding of the material. Regardless of who the director is, the remake is likely to fall short compared to the 1962 original.

〜B.J. Burgess

Flipping through old yearbooks can feel like opening a time capsule. The glossy pages capture moments frozen in time: hairstyles, fashion choices, candid photos, and the carefully penned notes from friends. Beyond the nostalgia, yearbooks hold layers of stories that reveal more than who wore what or who sat next to whom in class. They offer insight into personal growth, societal trends, and shared experiences that might otherwise be forgotten.

Hidden Narratives Among Faces

At first glance, a yearbook is simply a collection of faces and names. But as you study each page, subtle narratives begin to emerge. You might notice patterns: friends who stuck together, students involved in multiple clubs, or classmates who pursued unique paths. Looking back, it is fascinating to see how these early connections influenced later life. A shy student in the corner of a class photo might have grown into a confident leader, while the class clown could have become a creative professional. Yearbooks provide a snapshot of potential, dreams, and aspirations, even if they were unspoken at the time.

A Reflection of Society

Yearbooks also serve as historical documents. The photos, layouts, and typography reveal the cultural and societal norms of a particular era. Fashion trends, hairstyles, and popular activities tell a story about what was valued or celebrated. A high school yearbook from the 1980s looks very different from one from the 2000s, not just in style but also in the messages emphasized in quotes, captions, and superlatives. Examining these details helps us understand the environment in which students were growing up.

Welcome to the Book Blogger Hop!

This Week's Prompt:

My Answer:

In 2025, I didn't read many new books, but a few stood out to me. Notable titles included The Unraveling of Julia by Lisa Scottoline, Lone Wulff by William W. Johnstone and J.A. Johnstone, The Christmas Stranger by Richard Paul Evans, and Battle Mountain by C.J. Box. I also enjoyed the new edition of Robert Bloch's classic, Psycho, and After Midnight, a collection of previously published stories by Daphne du Maurier.

〜B.J. Burgess

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