My Reviews

tethered.

Every autumn I reread the same book. It’s called The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern. In my opinion it is the most beautiful book ever written. The way the author writes doesn’t just show you the story, but places you inside of it, staring around this magical world in awe that you’ve found yourself inside a place of such beauty and wonder.

That is how I felt when reading tethered. My words will never be able to express the way this fic made me feel–simply because I am not Erin Morgenstern, nor Yesi, and I do not possess their capabilities when it comes to stringing words and sentences together–but I shall do my best.

Calling tethered a fic feels woefully inadequate when it really should be categorized as a masterpiece. It cannot even compare to other fics because it really is in a league of its own. Just like seeing Monet’s Water Lilies or Eiffel’s Tower or Miranda’s Hamilton can change a person, this work has changed me. There was a Holly BT (Before tethered) and now I’m Holly AT (After tethered), my soul irrevocably altered from what it was before.

As a writer, myself, I’ll admit to feeling deficient as I was reading, but also, I’ve never felt so thrilled to feel so demoralized. LOL. Because reading tethered is a huge inspiration to me as a writer. If one day I’m able to make someone feel even 1% of what tethered made me feel, then I will have achieved success. In my own writing, every once in a while, I stumble upon a moment of brilliance and think to myself, “Oooo. Yeah. That is a good line.” With tethered that was happening every other paragraph. Yesi doesn’t have flashes of brilliance, she just IS brilliant.

At times it felt like it wasn’t even Colin and Pen’s story anymore, it was my own. Like Yesi had reached into my brain and extracted my deepest thoughts and feelings, and even some of my own memories, to place them inside this story. How did she do that!? I was so blown away by her ability to do this that I sent a two minute long voice note to her DMs in which I blabbered on about how amazing it was and what this fic was doing to me. I literally stuttered and stammered the entire two minutes because my brain and mouth couldn’t express what my heart and soul were experiencing. Smooth, Holly. Real smooth.

And how did she take the slow burn, idiots in love, lack of communication tropes and somehow make it bearable? A huge percentage of Polin fanfics are centered around mutual pining with the only barrier being that the two adorable dumbasses we know and love won’t fucking talk to each other! In nearly every fic it gets to a point where it’s just maddening as a reader, but I never reached that point in tethered. I think it’s because Yesi did such a brilliant job of not just showing or telling me that they were scared of breaking their friendship, she actually made me FEEL what they were feeling. For the first time ever, I understood and felt that terror WITH them, which was stupid because as the reader I literally knew how they felt about each other, but that’s just how powerful the writing was.

I never thought that I’d find anything to replace the number one slot of my top ten fics, but I messaged Alli after only reading a quarter of this story and told her that this was probably going to take that spot, and it has, solidly. Yesi, I do not know what it is you do for a living, but if it is not writing, that’s an actual CRIME. Your words deserve to be read by millions of people who’ve shelled out $25 for a hardcover book to sit on their shelves in a place of honor, getting more and more worn and loved with every re-read. This is your calling and I very much hope to own a physical copy of your work one day. I’ll place it on my own bookshelf in a place of honor, right next to my worn out copy of The Night Circus.

Thank you for this incredibly beautiful story.

Partidge in a Pear Tree

One of my favorite movies of all time (and not just specifically Christmas movies either) is The Holiday. And before anyone asks, yes, I’m 100% serious. It’s not a joke. It’s my comfort film. I watch it most often when I’m sad or angry or upset and need a pick-me-up, but you can also catch me watching it when I’m happy or in a great mood. 

I’ve loved this movie for years and I don’t know if even after watching it hundreds of times I could pinpoint any specific reason why I love it so much. I guess I just love it for the way it makes me feel. I don’t need to overanalyze it and pick it apart to figure out the minutiae of what makes it appealing to me. I just fucking like it. Period.

What does this have to do with A Partridge in a Pear Tree? I promise I’m getting there, but like the lovely Emma, I have never been accused of being succinct. Stick with me. I promise I have a point.

For those who are unfamiliar with the film there are two characters, one who hasn’t cried since she was 15, and one who is a self-described “weeper.” My entire life I’ve found myself caught in the inbetween of these two characters. Most of my friends would probably describe me as “the weeper.” Films are a big one for me. Even if I’ve seen them hundreds of times, there are certain moments that will not just make me cry, but make me ugly sob. Dobby, Mags, Seth, Raymond, Iron Man, “My friends, you bow to no one”, “He was Edmund Dantes”, etc. etc.

But it’s not just film, it’s also music. Sometimes a song speaks to my soul so intensely that I can’t help but be overcome. I remember hearing Same Love by Macklemore on the radio for the first time, and I had to pull off to the side of the road because I was crying so hard. Add that to the extensive list of reasons I should have realized I was bisexual MUCH sooner. There are songs that remind me of my dad that I can’t hear without crying. At the Eras tour I had a full-on breakdown during “Marjorie” thinking of him, and another one during “betty” for an entirely different reason. And “It’s Alright” by Mother Mother? Forget about it. I’m reduced to a puddle on the floor every goddamn time.

Then there are the other moments in life, weddings, births, love, and loss. My friends could probably take bets about how long into a wedding it’ll take me to cry, but thankfully they are too kind to do so. I’ll never forget sitting in the front row of one of my dearest friend’s senior recitals and crying harder than her parents who were sitting next to me. There was the time I got to see Julie Andrews live and in person and wept tears of joy that I was in the same room as my biggest idol, and then sobbing in grief the entire drive home because I was so close and yet I still didn’t get to meet her. 

OH MY GOD, HOLLY. We get it, you’re a fucking crybaby. WHAT DOES THIS HAVE TO DO WITH A PARTRIDGE IN A PEAR TREE!?

So remember how I told you that I was caught in between those two characters, including the character who hasn’t cried since she was 15? While it is incredibly easy for me to cry about pretty much anything, it is INCREDIBLY rare for me to cry from something I’ve read. I could probably count the number of times that has happened on one hand, and it’s infuriating to me, because how could I read something so gorgeous and moving and powerful as A Partridge in a Pear Tree and NOT FUCKING CRY!?!? (See, I told you I was getting there.)

I don’t even think I have the words to describe how this fic fucked me up in like the best way possible. I’ve read a couple of Emma’s one shots and knew she was a talented writer, but this was really my first taste of just what she was capable of. (I haven’t read Unfettered yet. I’m saving it for when it’s complete.) I was, to put it mildly, blown away. The way she weaves her story together is like a stunning and complicated tapestry. If you’re looking up close you’ll see all these beautiful little intricacies in the fabric, but it’s when you take a step back and see how all those small details come together to create the whole, that’s when you can truly appreciate the genius of the artist.

The Polin fandom is so blessed to have the writers we do, not just because of the prolificity of the amount of work we have to consume, but because of the depth these authors dive into these characters. I genuinely think most of our writers have done a better job with these characters than Julia Quinn herself, and she literally invented them. Emma’s dive into Penelope and Colin in A Partridge in a Pear Tree is masterful and astonishing and I was completely entranced from beginning to end. She put so much love and care into them and it did not go unnoticed by me. 

I’m so grateful to Emma for writing this completely gorgeous story of our two favorite idiots in love. Her insight into these characters was so profound and touching, and I was constantly left in awe by the way she wove their stories together to create something so deeply heart-wrenching and heart-warming. As an aspiring writer myself, I sincerely hope to one day attain even the smallest portion of talent that Emma possesses in her mind, her heart, and her calloused pinky finger.

In The Holiday there is a scene (actually there are a few) where the character who can’t cry actively tries to make herself cry, and I found myself doing just that while reading this piece. I got teary and choked up and tried to force the tears, but failed, just as that character in the movie failed. Explain to me how the person who will sometimes burst into tears when she looks at her cat and remembers that one day he’ll be gone, couldn’t shed a single tear after her heart went on such an insane emotional journey as this one? Last night I was so emotionally damaged and then on top of that I was genuinely pissed off that my body refused to reflect that damage in a physical way.

I may never know why I love The Holiday so much. I just know I love the way it makes me feel. And I may never know why I didn’t cry when I read A Partridge in a Pear Tree. I just know that it touched me so deeply, and perhaps if I’d read it on a different day of the month, it would have received the tears it so resoundingly deserved. Perhaps with her incredible talent, one day Emma will be the one to break me. Based on this work alone, I think there is a good chance we will both succeed in the future.

Well done, Emma. You fucking smashed it. Ate and left no crumbs. Also, thank you for making Colin cry all the time. It is quite literally my favorite thing ever.