 Who’s up for another hyperfixation time? I warned you about this article. An article detailing all the reasons that I love the Six of Crows duology by Leigh Bardugo. Friends recommended these books over and over, and every time they did, I’d add it to my TBR list, certain I’d get around to it at some point. (Famous last words.) Except this time, I did get around to it. And this book blew me away. I speed-ordered the sequel and found myself just as engaged. These books quickly worked their way into my favorites of all time. So I did what I love to do with all my favorite stories and tried to figure out why it drew me in. I’ve learned a lot about telling stories and my own writing this way. Six of Crows was no exception. And I realized that Six of Crows also showed me what stories I want to tell. Note: Six of Crows deals with some mature/sensitive topics that some readers may find triggering. Use discretion if you search it yourself.  Crows and Characters This book is a masterclass in everything, but the characters are the real star. I’ve seen memes about how you can choose a favorite Crow, but you can’t choose a least favorite Crow, and you know what? They’re right. I mean, it’s a book with six point of view characters. I’d expect at least one would make me roll my eyes a little like “you AGAIN” and plow through the chapter so I can get back to the other characters I care about. Not this book. Each Crow had me completely invested. (See what I did there? If you know, you know.) Did I connect with some more than others? (*cough* Kaz and Wylan *cough*) Yes. But I never lost interest. This book is also excellent at representation. Within the six Crows, they represent different disabilities, mental illnesses, neurodivergence types, traumas, religions, races/ethnicities, and body types. And the author didn’t throw these elements in there just to sell the book or so publishers could slap an inclusive label on the cover. Some characters never name their conditions explicitly! For instance, Jesper never uses the word ADHD, and yet he undoubtedly has it. These pieces are all part of who each character is. It affects how they move through life. Sometimes it slows them down. But most importantly, sometimes it lifts them up, too. The intimidating gang leader uses a cane and deals with PTSD flashbacks. The dyslexic and (in my opinion) autistic-coded character can blow up anything within a mile radius. The plus-size girl is an incredibly strong magic user. Their differences aren’t entirely a hindrance, nor are they entirely a magical superpower. They simply exist. And that’s freeing. Before I move on, I have to shout out the story world! Ketterdam is a character all on its own. I’m in awe of the worldbuilding for the different locations in the Grishaverse, but Ketterdam stands out above the others. It feels like a real place, like you could point to it on a map and plan a trip. Although on second thought, maybe don’t plan a trip there.  Yes, I realize there's only five Crows in this screenshot from the TV series. It's the best we've got, guys. Dark, Gritty, Imperfect Six of Crows is at times a hard book to read. Every character is traumatized in one way or another, so this book deals with abuse (physical, sexual, and emotional), religious trauma, ableism, and PTSD. That’s why I connected so much. One character in particular (Wylan) and I shared a very similar background. Of course, it wasn’t exactly the same. (I would have been a little concerned if it was.) It was still a few degrees removed from my life. But it was there. The characters don’t always handle their trauma in healthy ways. They don’t have the perfect answers. They reject fake platitudes. They are angry. They want revenge. Strangely, it comforted me to see characters who hurt the same as me and who didn’t immediately ascend to sainthood. The sheer rage stuck with me. These kids were hurt and they were angry. So often, especially Christians, we’re expected to just suck it up and smile through it and pray it away and just not feel anything too much. Like somehow feeling will take away our faith. Disclosure: this is not a Christian book, and to the best of my knowledge, wasn’t written from a Christian worldview. So maybe it’s not a fair comparison. But it was one of the few books I read that wasn’t just a wholesome healing story. It gets into the grit and the ugly and the tears and the absolute rage of being formed by an event that you did not choose and cannot change. But the story also didn’t just leave them to wallow in that—they followed through the catharsis, which by extension, meant that I did too. They made good choices and bad choices in how they handled the cards they were dealt. And so did I. But they did something about it. And especially because trauma makes us feel so powerless, there is something incredibly, beautifully empowering about that. And through those choices, both the good and the bad, they began to heal and move on. Which gave me hope that I still could, too. Six of Crows would be a wonderful series even without these elements. It would have its fans and it would win its awards. But it did better than that. It dives deep into gritty topics. And it holds out a sometimes messy hand to the reader, a reader who may not have turned to this book for comfort. And yet, at least for me, I found comfort there anyways, in the dark and the gritty and the imperfect. Have you read Six of Crows? If so, what did you think of it? Agree? Disagree? Let me know in the comments below!
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