and Dad get in the van and they’re off to JFK. Then onto a plane. Then halfway around the world.
I don’t realize I’m crying until they’re already gone.
One True Pastry—three years ago
Debuts You Should Be Reading / Cupcakes You Should Be Eating
FIREFLIES AND YOU by Alanna LaForest
Okay, here we are. #50. The post I’ve been teasing on Instagram all week.
I can’t believe I just typed #50. Fifty reviews. Fifty recipes. Do you have any idea how many cupcakes that is? I can’t even tell you, because my brother always starts eating them all before I have the chance to count. Thankfully. If you were worried about food waste, rest assured, these cupcakes never go to waste.
Today’s recipe is lemon cupcakes with lavender frosting, topped off with gold glitter. Inspired by my new favorite book you probably haven’t read. Which is absurd! So I thought, How can I get this book on YA Twitter’s radar? I can write a glowing review (see below!)—but I know way more people are engaged with my #CupcakeCoverReveals on Instagram.
So I turned thirty-six cupcakes into a book cover cake.
Fifty cupcakes recipes later, and I have finally taken #CupcakeCoverReveal literally. You’re welcome.
These cupcakes taste like spring and are the perfect pick-me-up to get through this endless winter. Which, evidently enough, is how I feel about FIREFLIES AND YOU. If you asked me how many times I’ve read this book, I’d say two.
I’d be lying. The answer is three. I’ve read this book three times and I am the definition of book hungover!
So, what’s the book about, Kels?
FIREFLIES AND YOU is the YA contemporary book of my dreams—one where the romance elements are squee-worthy as anything, but nothing compared to the core of the story—a friendship so complicated, so codependent, you never know whose side you’re supposed to be on.
Every year, Annalee waits for the fireflies. Summer is for swimming, working two part-time jobs to save up for college, kissing Jonah Beckett, and fireflies. It’s a phenomenon that marks her small town outside of Baton Rouge. No one can explain why the fireflies keep coming back. And when they do, so does Maisy Daniels, Annalee’s best friend, and everything is perfect.
Except this summer, Annalee and Maisy are broken and barely even speaking. Annalee’s POV is in chronological order and Maisy’s is reverse chronological, both intricately woven together leading up to the night they fell apart. It’s wild, but so worth the ride, figuring out what happened.
With that, I will say no more about plot because spoilers!
But in terms of feels, the thing I loved most about this book was the moments of levity. It sounds heavy, reading a book about a friendship breakup—hoping Annalee and Maisy will figure it out and find their way back to each other. Parts of it are. But it’s also a lot of laughter, a ton of atmosphere, and the best depiction of summers in the too-hot South I’ve ever read (speaking as someone who’s lived there!).
Anyways, how this book only has 24 ratings on Goodreads is a tragedy—I will be plugging and blasting and screaming about FIREFLIES AND YOU on social media until the end of time!
PLZ READ IT SO ALANNA CAN WRITE MORE AMAZING BOOKS.
With Love (& Cupcakes),
Kels
And, as always, tag me in your cupcake posts!! I LOVE seeing your beautiful bookish creations. [Showing Comments 1-20 of 1,782]
TWO
You’d think us Levitts would be minimalists.
I mean, we once moved six times in two years in the name of Gentrify, U.S.—a documentary that exposed the realities of gentrification in American cities. From nine to eleven, I lived in Brooklyn, Boston, Chicago, D.C., San Francisco, and Seattle.
By Chicago, I lived out of my suitcases. There was no point in pretending to settle.
With every move and every new doc, my parent promised it was the one. Gentrify, U.S. earned Mad and Ari Levitt their fifth Academy Award nomination.
It lost to a doc about chinchillas. Seriously.
I’m just saying. Considering how much of my childhood has been spent packing and unpacking and relocating, stuff should be a burden. I should live a cleansed, clutter-free life.
I don’t.
Exhibit A: the tornado of clothes still covering Aunt Liz’s floor. Or my floor now, I guess.
I stare at the mess I made. If I move the clothes from the floor to the bed, is that progress? Maybe instead I’ll purge everything that doesn’t spark joy. Honestly, I probably should’ve channeled Marie Kondo in Charlotte, before I challenged myself to fit my entire closet it one suitcase, just to see if I