Advanced Copy Review

Undead and Unwed Review

Book: Undead and Unwed
Author: Sam Tschida
Publisher: Quirk Books
Year: 2025
Rating: 1.5 out of 5 stars

Synopsis : “Tiffenie may be three hundred years old, but she’s still a hot mess. The vampire is tragically single, works a dead-end job at a blood bank, and spends her nights marathoning Hallmark Channel moves with her cat.
When Tiffenie inherits a fixer-upper home in Valentine, Vermont, thanks to a case of mistaken (okay, stolen!) identity, she seizes the chance to get her life back on track. With her newly undead neighbor (it was an accident!) in tow, Tiffenie is determined to live out her holiday rom-com dreams in this picture-perfect town.
But between the mystery of her stolen identity, small-town drama, and the arrival of her insufferable vampire ex-boyfriend Vlad, getting her happily ever after with a smoking-hot Christmas tree farmer won’t be easy. Tiffenie must embark on a journey of self-acceptance – with the help of a few therapy sessions – for the first time in her immortal life.”

Review : Over the last few years of writing ARC reviews, I believe I’ve only given two other books a star rating lower than 2. I give a truly low review only when it feels absolutely necessary – sparingly, you might even say. While my reviews are always honest and truthful and they may be, at times, scathing, I’m always hesitant to give someone a low rating for something they’ve crafted. It feels deeply embarrassing to me that Undead and Unwed has garnered as high a review as 3.5 stars on GoodReads, which is really all I need to say when I tell you that I do not use or read GoodReads reviews. Having read over 100 advanced reader copies (sorry, only 90 of those have made it here), I can honestly tell you that I have never received an advanced copy as unfinished and unpolished as this book was. It’s not a surprise to find small errors in an advanced copy, some grammatical mistakes, misspellings, an unfinished sentence here or there – it is a surprise to find a book with so many glaring mistakes as Undead and Unwed, and to be completely frank, that’s not even what scored this book 1.5 stars for me. It’s just part of the chaos and nonsense of the entire experience.

This is the first time I’ve wanted to say this : I read Undead and Unwed so you don’t have to. Please. Take my word for it. You don’t have to put yourself through this. The most frustrating aspect of this entire journey through such an incredibly poorly written book and nearly unreadable premise is that I actually liked the initial idea behind the plot. It could have been so much better, it could have been something readable. Execution, however, has failed. We find Tiffenie, a 300 year old vampire, living and working in L.A. at a blood bank – okay, expected, at least to some degree. She’s depressed, doesn’t know how to stand up for herself, and has little will to live beyond caring for her cat, Cat. We learn fairly early on that for a vampire to continue to exist in the world in any kind of feasible manner, they need to take on someone else’s identity in order to rent an apartment or buy a car or work a job – you know, they need a social security number and a real life name. Tiffenie is currently living under the stolen / bought name Tiffany Amanda Blair, an identity she purchased via the “black market” (I’m using quotes here as there’s no real explanation for this and it’s glossed over, so one can really only assume). When she receives a letter in the mail informing her of an inheritance in her namesake’s hometown of Valentine, Vermont, she hops in a hearse (yes, really) and heads out of town. Of course, I’m glossing over a lot of the minutiae here, but this is how things unfold : girl assumes identity, girl receives inheritance meant for the person whose identity she assumed, girl moves to claim the inheritance. Meanwhile, Tiffenie has accidentally drained her neighbor within an inch of her life and is forced to turn her into a vampire and take her on the road to Vermont because…well, just because. There are so many instances where things happen in the book without a good reason, the reader is forced to go along with what’s happening just for funzies because Tschida said so and it makes for poor storytelling.

Evidently, it’s been just ten years since the real Tiffany has moved away from her hometown of Valentine, yet even though Valentine is a tiny, rural town and Tiffany lived there for her entire life as a child and adult, ten years is somehow enough for Tiffenie to show up as a totally different person under the assumed identity of Tiffany and pass for this other person with an entire backstory and history in the town. And no-one blinks an eye. This was the first (of many) glaring issues I took with Undead and Unwed, as an assumed identity does not mean you also look like the person whose identity you stole! We only get a small explanation by way of Tiffenie dying her hair blonde because Tiffany was also a blonde. Yes, you read that correctly. In all other accounts, everyone Tiffenie runs into, be they old flames, friends from high school, or people who knew her family, all really, truly believe that Tiffenie is actually Tiffany. It is as asinine as it sounds. Next, we encounter the trouble with Tiffenie’s bank account – namely, she was dirt poor in L.A., working a job for peanuts, somehow living alone, and yet when she moves to Vermont without a job, she has enough money to start paying thousand dollar fines for living in a condemned building. There’s no explanation for this change in circumstances beyond the inheritance of a condemned property. There hasn’t been some grand windfall, no change in her lifestyle, only that she’s gone from L.A. to Vermont.

If this isn’t enough, Tiffenie is written just as the synopsis describes, as a hot mess. She’s flaky, irresponsible, somehow and for some unknown and never fleshed-out reason, she’s obsessed with not drinking blood, and she has a shopping problem. I don’t love this characterization, but I can get on board with it if it’s how she’s written, unfortunately, Tschida goes back and forth between our modern-day Tiffenie and the Tiffenie of the past who had children, knew how to bake for her family, and lived a real life with big ideas and plans. It’s a stark contrast and the jumping back and forth between these two versions of the self is stilted, as though Tschida threw them in at random without any planning or thought. Further, the conversations are so choppy and robotic, they’re nearly impossible to read. When it comes to story writing, Tschida has landed so far from the mark it’s almost laughable. There are so many instances where someone’s speaking and the only response will be “Yes.” that it became impossible to read with any semblance of seriousness. At one point I actively questioned whether this book was even written or whether it was dictated based on the glaring errors staring back at me from the page. There were multiple instances throughout where the paragraph was re-written but the original was never taken out, so I was presented with multiple directions in which this ARC might go, unsure of which would eventually be chosen for the final copy, and one instance where an entire paragraph was broke up with bullet points. These kinds of errors are not commonplace in an advanced copy, they’re sloppy and lazy and do the author a tremendous disservice – in this instance, Tschida needed all the help she could get and her publishing house did her dirty.

Undead and Unwed is an unreadable mess. I can only hope that by the time it’s actually ready for print it will look dramatically different than it does in it’s advanced copy form, but from my experience this is rarely the case. I suspect this book will be slightly more readable, but I don’t believe it will have improved by much at that point. The concept of a Hallmark Channel-ish story where a vampire moves to Vermont and restores a property, finds a chosen family, and eventually love is actually such a cute idea and I’m actively upset that this book ended up being as poorly written as it was. It needs a significant amount of work, perhaps it would even be worth scrapping the whole thing and starting over, or maybe it would be better to never have started in the first place.

Advice : Don’t. Just, don’t. Don’t fall for the 3.5 GoodReads score. Don’t spend your money. If you really feel drawn to this book, request it at your local library and save your money for something else.

Lollapolooza Review

Book: Lollapalooza
Author: Richard Bienstock & Tom Beaujour
Publisher: St. Martin’s Press
Year: 2025
Rating: 4 out of 5 stars

Synopsis : “Through hundreds of new interviews with artists, tour founders, festival organizers, promoters, publicists, sideshow freaks, stage crews, record label execs, reporters, roadies and more, Lollapalooza chronicles the iconic music festival’s pioneering 1991-1997 run, and, in the process, alternative rock’s rise – as well as the reverberations that led to a massive shift in the music industry and the culture at large.
Lollapalooza features original interviews with some of the biggest names in music, including Perry Farrell and Jane’s Addiction, Pearl Jam, Soundgarden, Nine Inch Nails, Sonic Youth, Tool, Smashing Pumpkins, Ice-T, Rage Against the Machine, Green Day, Patti Smith, Alice in Chains, Metallica and many more.
[…]
A nostalgic look back at 1990s music and culture, Lollapalooza traces the festival’s groundbreaking origins, following the tour as it progresses through the decade, and documenting the action onstage, backstage, and behind-the-scenes in detailed and uncensored and sometimes shocking first-person accounts. This is the story of Lollapalooza and the 1990s alternative rock revolution.”

Review : Lollapalooza is a tremendous body of work, indicative of the importance Lollapalooza holds in the annals of alternative, and mainstream, rock history. Bienstock and Beaujour have done a masterful job of showcasing just how revolutionary the conception of such an event was in the 1990s and the impact it’s had on the world of traveling festivals and tours as much as thirty years later. Though I haven’t reviewed many books about music, you may remember my review of Rise of a Killah last year – I found it difficult at times to connect with a book whose stories didn’t relate to me as someone who isn’t a die-hard fan of the Wu-Tang Clan; there was so much that went unsaid, without prior knowledge, some things felt hard to discern. I can definitively say Lollapalooza did not suffer from the same issues for someone, like me, who isn’t necessarily a lifelong fan of some, if not many, of the bands who played during the seminal 1991-1997 run of the festival. While there were many bands and artists whose work I’m familiar with to varying degrees, there were, of course, many whose work I’m unfamiliar with – particularly those who played on the second-stage, designated for local, indie, up-and-comers, and performance art / spoken word (at times). At no point was I lost. Bienstock and Beaujour covered an absolute mountain of information and did so in a wildly comprehensive way, anything that I might have gone “…wait, what?” about was cleanly and thoughtfully explained through hundreds of interviews, not only detailing events, but doing so in a way that felt approachable and easy to imagine.

Throughout this ridiculous honker of a book I found myself, at multiple stages, completely staggered by the sheer volume of work that went into the story telling. Laid out in a format I initially found myself disinterested in, each year is formatted through varying chapters that are told exclusively through the words of band members, backstage hands, tour founders, managers, journalists, and more. Each chapter is broken up by these exclusive interviews, which I immediately thought would leave the book feeling choppy and broken, but in fact read like a conversation with all the people who had a front row seat to the US’ first real traveling music festival. It was an incredible feat, I can’t even fathom the amount of time and effort involved in not only gathering these interviews, but putting them together in a coherent flow that jeopardized nothing in terms of story retelling. It never once mattered that I didn’t know who each person interviewed was, Bienstock and Beaujour not only included details about each interviewee at the start of every chapter (regardless of whether they’d been introduced previously or not), they also provided an alphabetical list in the front of the book detailing every person quoted throughout this 400 page compendium. I really can’t emphasize enough how impressive and monstrous Lollapalooza is.

I thoroughly enjoyed reading accounts of musicians I love, bands I’ve listened to for years, and people I’m only somewhat familiar with – the love that came out of so many people involved in the festival for 6 years is really something special. Without ruining it for you, it felt like the absolute height of nostalgia to read that so many people look back on their time with Lollapalooza with nothing but love, admiration, and joy. Described by multiple people over the course of multiple years as feeling like being part of a summer camp, the details of their exploits while not on stage, the highs of playing with their fellow touring bands, and the lows of addiction and alcoholism all set against the backdrop of teen angst, pre-internet, and exploration made for a deeply meaningful read. It was unexpected, to say the least.

So, then, why the 4 star review and not a 5? Well, Lollapalooza suffered from the antithesis of what Rise of a Killah suffered from : too much information. And I don’t mean to say that the details given were personal, though at times they were, or that they were shocking (largely, they weren’t) – what I mean to say is that by the time I reached page 300-ish, or what would be year 1996 of the festival, I was bored. There were too many overlapping stories, too many details about things I’d already read about, and as the tour was winding down, I cared a bit less about it than I did reading about 1991 – 1994. If anything, the book suffered the same fate Lollapalooza did. And perhaps that’s the shine of a great work, that the book literally mirrored what was happening in the tour at the time, but the magic was dwindling and my interest was fading. It’s easy to make me feel excited about the height of Lollapalooza in the early 90s, as grunge was gripping the nation, bands were finding their footing, and something new and exciting was happening with this new form of tour (in the US). It’s a challenge to make me excited to continue reading about the festival’s demise, the sell-out nature of alternative music into mainstream art, and the poor booking choices that ultimately led to the end of the festival, at the time; Bienstock and Beaujour didn’t succeed in this arena. Perhaps for a nostalgic Gen-X reader this will have a different feel than it did for me, but ultimately it cost a star for this Millennial reader.

Advice : If you’ve been a fan of counterculture, alternative music, grunge, or just love a music festival, I think the history involved will be of interest to you! If you love making the band or just enjoy a backstage look at all your favorite musician’s lives, this is a great read.