General Édo is a stone-cold killer, brutal and inspired in crushing the enemies of the Boorhian Army. The elite Shadows who cluster around their GenerGeneral Édo is a stone-cold killer, brutal and inspired in crushing the enemies of the Boorhian Army. The elite Shadows who cluster around their General boast about their number of kills, and tell stories of her power and ferocity... but she's getting a little older, and tireder, and the Emperor's demands finally go too far. Even her own Shadows will come after her... but Édo has some tricks up her sleeve, and a Djinni on her side.
I was a little confused by other reviews who found this funny; I didn't get the joke, if there was one. It's fairly brutal and there are long stretches of action sequences -- beautifully choreographed, and never boring, but definitely not funny. Édo makes for an interesting character: she doesn't really seem to regret her brutal past, or have very strong feelings about having to kill: what she's asked to do seems more like it's demeaning for her, or at least unfitting, because it's unnecessary.
It's not that she's tired of killing per se, but it no longer seems worth it: she wants more, now, and the Empire won't let her have it. It's not a moral stand, exactly; in fact, it's rife with her ego and her need to be recognised as powerful, as worth all the adulation and everything she's been paid. She's a strong female character, and yet profoundly flawed in a way I'm more used to seeing for male characters.
The Djinni was a fascinating bit of the story that didn't quite work for me -- the story could have functioned almost the same without the character entirely, and yet I wanted to know so much more about the Djinni.
All in all, a fast and entertaining read; if I gave half-stars, I'd bump it up higher, but I didn't quite connect with it enough to give it a four....more
I've started trying out Storygraph, and one of the main features that drew me in was the ability to search for a book recommendation based on various I've started trying out Storygraph, and one of the main features that drew me in was the ability to search for a book recommendation based on various inputs: not just genre, but pace, mood and length as well. So I thought I'd give it a try and buy one of the books it recommended -- and thus, Annabel Scheme, "perfect for people who like Sherlock Holmes, Douglas Adams, ghosts and/or the internet".
Annabel Scheme is a detective in a cyberpunk/horror landscape, with all kinds of weird and wonderful details. Hu is her assistant, an ex-Grail (think Google) server that just really wants to help and be a good sidekick. The story opens with a client, as this sort of story has to: a man wants to know what the heck is happening when new tracks of himself and his dead girlfriend are suddenly appearing across the internet, and he thinks Annabel Scheme can answer.
That mystery itself gets wrapped up very quickly, and obviously reveals itself as a portal into a larger story, which was... a little too tenuously connected, for my taste. It felt like the story fell into parts, and that was just a bit too much of a separate story.
Overall, though, it's pretty entertaining: the Holmesian pastiche is there, but it's not too much of a copy/paste of Holmes canon, style of character; though I can see what the comparison to Douglas Adams is there for, that's not really the vibe I got. Ghosts, well, there are kind of some ghosts, but I didn't really feel that was the key thing... In the end, the more I think about it the more it crumbles, I'm finding: there are loose ends and things that I didn't quite get -- but it was a fun enough read for the less-than-an-hour I spent on it. Score one for Storygraph....more
I’ve been meaning to read this for a while, but I was somewhat put off by the cover and by not really having enjoyed Rosewater — Thompson’s writing isI’ve been meaning to read this for a while, but I was somewhat put off by the cover and by not really having enjoyed Rosewater — Thompson’s writing is great, but more visceral than I intend to enjoy. Still, The Murders of Molly Southbourne is a short book, and packs a heck of a punch, even though in the end we don’t really get very good answers.
The premise is simple: whenever Molly bleeds, a copy of her is born. They inevitably try to attack her, so her parents raise her to avoid bleeding as much as possible, destroy all traces of her blood, and kill the copies as fast and thoroughly as possible. They also teach her to hide her tracks, and set up a private security company to take care of any issues that crop up in future, tattooing the number into her arm so she’ll always have it with her.
This isn’t really a story about how that came to happen, although a potential explanation does get revealed at the end. It’s mostly about what you would do if you lived that life, how it might play out, and all the ways you might try to get away. It’s oddly flat and emotionless half of the time, in a way that feels like someone telling you a story in a very level voice to hide anything they might feel about it — a restrained, controlled sense, rather than a sense that there is no feeling there.
I know there’s a sequel, and I’m definitely curious enough to give it a try. If you like things to make sense and have all the answers in a self-contained story, it may not be for you so much, but I found it a fun and fast read....more
This book started out promisingly for me: a music blogger finds a new track on Bandcamp by a band that seems to have come out of nowhere. Once he listThis book started out promisingly for me: a music blogger finds a new track on Bandcamp by a band that seems to have come out of nowhere. Once he listens to it, it's life-changing: it's the best song he's ever heard, a full-body experience of bliss. And there's going to be 10 more tracks, one released each day...
It's likely that it's best to know as little as possible about this one before going in, but to some extent I found that people saying that made me expect more of a mystery than there actually was. I was hoping for more buildup, more mystery; instead, this book is way more in your face than that. And that's where it kind of lost me: I didn't want it to come straight out and tell me what it was going to be so soon. I felt like the concept of this music was good enough it needed to be strung out for a good long while, teasing the reader.
The places it goes are fun, but it wasn't what I thought I was settling in for, and it felt a bit too... well, like I said: it felt in-your-face. It said the quiet bit out loud. Consequently, it kind of lost me and I didn't buy in for the rest of the ride....more
Knit One, Girl Two is a short, low-stakes f/f romance. Clara's into dyeing yarn, but she's looking for inspiration for a new set of colours. She findsKnit One, Girl Two is a short, low-stakes f/f romance. Clara's into dyeing yarn, but she's looking for inspiration for a new set of colours. She finds that inspiration in paintings by Danielle, a fellow Jewish woman, and Danielle is just as excited as she is by the chance to collaborate. They bond through the shared endeavour, which goes big time thanks to Danielle's famous uncle, and a shared fandom. The only conflict in the novella is something that's going on for Danielle, leaving her unable to paint and unhappy.
One thing I enjoyed a lot was how Clara dealt with hearing that something was going on for Danielle, via a rumour. She knows she can look it up... but she doesn't, and instead sends a message to Danielle explaining that she knows something is happening, but she doesn't want to pry. It's a really cool and respectful way to go about it, which helped smooth over something I'd have found rather awkward.
The writing is fairly simple and matter-of-fact; the dialogue and descriptions didn't really take off for me. It's a cute story, and I'm so glad it's out there providing f/f representation, Jewish romance, and low-stakes happiness... but I'm afraid it probably won't stick with me. It's a good companion for half an hour of reading, especially because it is low-stakes: things happen which you can care about, in the way you care about your friend's latest drama or your sister's work issues... but it tugs lightly on the heartstrings, rather than playing one of Paganini's Caprices....more
The Nine Lands is an anthology of stories linked by the fact that they're set in the same secondary world. Some of these I've read before, I think; thThe Nine Lands is an anthology of stories linked by the fact that they're set in the same secondary world. Some of these I've read before, I think; there's something very familiar about several of them, at least. The stories aren't really otherwise linked, with different themes and characters in each one. Each works well as a short story, giving a little glimpse of the world around whatever plot or character is at the centre.
I do have some... qualms, I guess; I know Brennan is an anthropologist, and I do trust her to be generally respectful, but it feels a little weird to see shamanism and other religious practices and cultural traditions in what feels like a fairly typical fantasy setting in other ways. I don't really know enough or come from the right background to know how well it's done and whether it feels right, so I can't really comment any further on this, but it is worth knowing that it's definitely in play in these stories....more
The first two books (The Red Threads of Fortune and The Black Tides of Heaven) introduce you to a world and a setting wReviewed for The Bibliophibian.
The first two books (The Red Threads of Fortune and The Black Tides of Heaven) introduce you to a world and a setting without making it essential to have read the other book first (though personally, I would read Black Tides first anyway). I found that by contrast, The Descent of Monsters was very much settled within that now existing framework, and relied on prior knowledge of the other two novellas to orientate you and help you understand who means what to whom and why, and why this character does x and y, etc.
This is a bit different in format to the first two books as well, focusing on the investigations of a new character into events that Akeha and Mokoya are involved in, without giving us much access to the actual thoughts of Mokoya and Akeha (and the other characters we already know). Part of it is written as an investigation report: there are also letters and a couple of interrogation transcripts.
Honestly, I found this not quite enough to re-orientate myself within the world. Before I read another book in this world, I think I might well make the time to reread these first three together, to make sure I understand all the nuances and how the events connect. I didn’t even read the first two books that long ago, but Yang doesn’t spoonfeed you (which is not a complaint! I think it’s reasonable to expect you to carry a certain amount of information between books, it’s just that apparently my brain is a sieve right now).
This one ends up feeling a bit slight compared to the other two: while we learn a bit more about the world and the machinations of those in power, I found it difficult to connect up. Again, rereading might help, but that was (sadly) my impression. I do find it enjoyable: Chuwan is a bit of an archetype (the oh-so-determined investigator, destined to find the truth!) and it works. This does stand alone in the sense that it’s a character we don’t know investigating events which, on their own, are fascinating and clearly shocking — but I think the connections to be made with the previous novellas are important in really getting the full effect....more
This one is kind of like an origin story for a hunter in Supernatural, only with more women and people in general who aReviewed for The Bibliophibian.
This one is kind of like an origin story for a hunter in Supernatural, only with more women and people in general who aren’t co-dependent white dudes, and deeply connected to an anarchic, footloose sort of life — the characters are all travellers and squatters, some more settled than others, which I found a fascinating new skew on the world. New to me, I mean; I’m neither an anarchist nor at all footloose.
There’s some really creepy-feeling stuff here, like the giant demon murderstag — not so much creepy in the “I don’t want to keep reading, gaaaah” sense, you know, where you start worrying a hand is going to come out from under the bed and grab your ankle if you get out of bed, but just wrong and unsettling.
And, you know, all the undead animals that would normally be hunted. There was something about the pacing that made me feel hurried through it, though; something I just didn’t quite get hold of. I’m sort of curious to read the sequel, but then I’m not sure (embarrassingly) that I’ve really grasped the characters and will remember all their interactions and relationships even if I pick it up really soon. Even though I found it different in terms of the cast and even refreshing for that, I’m mostly left with the murder deer, and he’s exited stage right at this point.
Sum is a slim book, just 100 pages long, with 40 different views of what the afterlife might be like. Some of them feel too glib and flippant for me (Sum is a slim book, just 100 pages long, with 40 different views of what the afterlife might be like. Some of them feel too glib and flippant for me (though no doubt the same stories would make others smile), but there are some that are really inventive, bittersweet and clever, and some that just have really good lines. Like this one:
There are three deaths. The first is when the body ceases to function. The second is when the body is consigned to the grave. The third is that moment, sometime in the future, when your name is spoken for the last time.
Yow. That’s just true in a sad way: the only afterlife everyone can be sure of is when people speak of them once they’re gone. There’s definitely poignancy in the idea of waiting for that last time your name is spoken before you move on.
I found some of the stories a little too similar in tone or basic idea, but it’s still a creative collection.
Not all of these stories are related to the Onyx Court stories, but enough of them are to make me really want to pick that series back up. I love the Not all of these stories are related to the Onyx Court stories, but enough of them are to make me really want to pick that series back up. I love the way Brennan weaves history with fantasy in these books, and especially her self-imposed rule about not allowing faeries to be the primary cause of human historical events — that way, she avoids having anything too neat and convenient, and has to find clever ways to write her faeries in. And oh, she does.
I found pretty much all of these stories satisfying, and there were none that I felt were too long or too short; Brennan really has a feel for how to write a self-contained story, even in her more sprawling worlds like the Onyx Court.
This collection of short stories are all linked by a single idea: when we’re waiting in an airport, we can just slip away to another dimension, or ‘plThis collection of short stories are all linked by a single idea: when we’re waiting in an airport, we can just slip away to another dimension, or ‘plane’. If you haven’t heard of this phenomenon, I do recommend Ursula Le Guin’s travel memoir — a little out of date now, perhaps, but certainly a good introduction to some of the planes that are out there. Her choice of stories might seem pointed at times — there’s an inherent criticism of all things commercialised in her discussions of the Holiday Plane, for example — but the locals she speaks to and the stories she reveals are fascinating nonetheless. I don’t think I’d want to visit all of these planes, but the Library of Mahigul sounds fascinating, and I’d love to take a DNA sequencer to Islac and try to puzzle out quite how they got their genomes into such a mess.
Of course, there are many other planes out there that Le Guin did not cover, and doubtless there are fascinating stories she could have told and never had time to tell, or never wanted to tell. I’m sure there’s a fair share of utter tragedy and horror out there — but also beauty, and Le Guin finds that even in some of the sadder places.
A recommended read — especially if you’re going to be flying soon.
Almost all of these short stories worked for me, which is a wonder (I can be picky!). Each of them had some really fascinating ideas, and the only oneAlmost all of these short stories worked for me, which is a wonder (I can be picky!). Each of them had some really fascinating ideas, and the only one that left me cold was ‘Love, Caycee’ (and even then, I liked the idea, it’s just I don’t think it quite came together into a story I found fun to read). Of course, one of my favourites is the one featuring Isabella Trent, particularly for the last letter in the narrative. Of course Isabella would get herself arrested over a matter of science!
But the others are all worth the time too, and I particularly liked ‘Once a Goddess’, the first story of the collection. Brennan is really great at atmosphere, as these stories show; each of them evoked its own landscape in my head.
I didn’t enjoy The Silver Wind as much as the other novella by Allan that I’ve read, Spin, but then I kind of expected that — Spin is a take on the stI didn’t enjoy The Silver Wind as much as the other novella by Allan that I’ve read, Spin, but then I kind of expected that — Spin is a take on the story of Arachne, after all, and I really enjoy well-done retellings. The Silver Wind is a bit more of a mystery; sort of a time travel/alternate realities story, I guess. It’s perhaps best experienced for yourself, to see what you make of the plot; it’s well-written, though, and despite the similarities between the stories that make up the narrative, each brings something different as well.
I didn’t love it, and I don’t think it was as finely done as Spin, but it was enjoyable and I’m definitely still curious to read more of Allan’s work.
I just got Spin as part of a suitcase full of books kindly given me by my friend from Bastian’s Book Reviews. I picked it up right away, because 1) itI just got Spin as part of a suitcase full of books kindly given me by my friend from Bastian’s Book Reviews. I picked it up right away, because 1) it’s short and 2) I’ve always loved the story of Arachne, which it retells. It took me a little while to find my feet with it — one minute it seems mythical, and the next someone had an iPad, but there were also clairvoyants and some kind of law against them… This isn’t a complaint, because I love when a book makes me pick up on clues to piece things together for myself, rather than narrating, “Ten years ago the law against [x] had come into force, and since that day [y] had feared”…
Of course, other aspects aren’t subtle at all — there are actual spiders in the story, and a mysterious old woman who once briefly maybe looks a little like an actress who once played Athena… But in such a short space, it does a remarkably good job of bringing the scents and sounds and colours of the setting to life, the sticky heat of the Greek summer, the absorption of Layla with her work. It comes together beautifully, and I’m convinced that I should look for more of Nina Allan’s work. Fortunately, one of the other books in the suitcase was also by Nina Allan, so I anticipate a good time when I pick that up.
First off: if you’re like me and don’t pay enough attention, you might miss that this book is the first of a duology. It very much just comes to a stoFirst off: if you’re like me and don’t pay enough attention, you might miss that this book is the first of a duology. It very much just comes to a stop, and will require the second volume to become a full story. You might want to hold off until you have your hands on both of them to start reading, because they’re the same story.
Anyway, The Five Daughters of the Moon is a historical fantasy based on the story of the Russian revolution. If you know the story of the Romanov sisters, you know there’s not likely to be a happy ending coming — and you know which characters to be suspicious of. Each chapter is told from the point of one of the five girls, from the youngest to the oldest. Likitalo actually does a pretty good job of distinguishing each of the voices — you wouldn’t think Sibilia was Celestia or Alina when reading, for a certainty — but Alina’s narration, at six years old, sounds rather too mature for her age.
Setting that aside, it’s beautifully written, and the worldbuilding that emerges slowly is lovely. The idea of the Empress being married to the moon, the arrangement whereby each of the girls has a different earthly father (or “seed”) but is considered a daughter of the Moon, the soul beads — it isn’t all immediately apparent how it works, but as you need to know, you learn. I think that’s well done.
Overall, a fascinating novella retelling, to my mind, but I do wish the two books had come out together (or that it was just sold as a novel).
I am a total wuss. Complete and total. So I expected to have the pants scared off me for picking up a horror novella, and it didn’t really happen. TheI am a total wuss. Complete and total. So I expected to have the pants scared off me for picking up a horror novella, and it didn’t really happen. There were a few creepy moments, but mostly I found myself wondering why it felt like an episode of Scooby Doo. (Considering Scooby Doo on Zombie Island gave me nightmares as a kid, that doesn’t necessarily mean it can’t be scary, but… I don’t know.)
The actual haunting part seemed solid and interesting. It was the characters and the way they went about tackling the problem that didn’t work for me — it just all felt totally unreal, and like set-up for the three main characters to set up like the Winchester brothers or the Mystery Gang. It felt truncated and just too easy, and some of the action scenes just made me go… “Really??”
If you’re looking for something scary, then this isn’t it, I think. There is a good story somewhere in here, but mostly it didn’t work for me.
Received to review via Netgalley; publication date 3rd October 2017
I’ve been a fan of Heyer’s Regency romances and adventures for a while now, so whenReceived to review via Netgalley; publication date 3rd October 2017
I’ve been a fan of Heyer’s Regency romances and adventures for a while now, so when I saw this was ‘Read Now’ on Netgalley, I confess I pounced. It’s actually the collection Pistols for Two (which I hadn’t read yet) but with three extra stories from early in Heyer’s career.
While Heyer’s short stories aren’t precisely what I like in a short story — something with a twist, something maybe a little unpredictable, something packed into as small a space as possible — they’re fun little stories, very much like her longer works but compressed. The same types of hero and heroine, the same sorts of love scene and the same sort of happy ending abound, along with Heyer’s usual wit. If you enjoy the banter between her characters and the sparkle of her writing, all of that is in evidence here. If I had to call the collection anything, I might call it Miniatures!
If you don’t love Heyer’s work, well, this won’t be for you. It’s very much typical of her, and she doesn’t have the space to make her heroes and heroines distinctive. And if you’ve never tried Heyer, well, I’d start with The Talisman Ring instead, if I were you.
Received to review via Netgalley; publication date 26th September 2017
While these stories are set in Bardugo’s Grisha-verse, you don’t really need to Received to review via Netgalley; publication date 26th September 2017
While these stories are set in Bardugo’s Grisha-verse, you don’t really need to have read those books (or remember them in great detail) if you fancy reading this: it’s a little collection of twisted fairytales, somewhat shaped by the world of the Grisha, somewhat just by Bardugo’s responses to old stories. There’s a version of Hansel and Gretel, a sort of prequel to ‘The Little Mermaid’, a retelling of the story of the Nutcracker…
Each story has a certain magic, and Bardugo handles them well: they feel like fairytales, while also feeling fresh and new. I liked Ulla’s story in particular, the last one in the collection — but I liked the perspective Bardugo took on each of them. For example, the sting in the tail of her Hansel and Gretel retelling… But I’d better not say too much.
Suffice it to say it’s a great little collection, and it’s probably going to be a beautiful book in hardcopy, too. I recommend it if you love fairytale retellings as well as if you’re a fan of the Grisha-verse.
I was intrigued by Quinn in the previous novella, and this one takes much the same stance: rather than following Quinn directly, the bulk of it is tolI was intrigued by Quinn in the previous novella, and this one takes much the same stance: rather than following Quinn directly, the bulk of it is told from the point of view of someone who happens to be protected by him during a journey. It reveals a little more of the world-building and the reason certain things are as they are, while still leaving a whole lot still to explore. I hope there’s going to be more, and soon.
I love the way it becomes apparent to the narrator-character, Jaxom, that Quinn is a good man — not a fun man to be around, not a safe man, not good company or just mildly principled. He’s a good man, prepared to take risks for others even if he doesn’t like them, because his word is his bond.
I still mostly didn’t get into Jaxom’s story for his sake — I was interested in Quinn, what happened to him, what he’s seeking, where he’s going next, and who opposes him. Ideally, I’d like to learn why, too.
I don’t know what to say about Mapping the Interior. It’s weird and creepy and it got under my skin. It does involve one character who is disabled beiI don’t know what to say about Mapping the Interior. It’s weird and creepy and it got under my skin. It does involve one character who is disabled being treated fairly badly, including by family, so if you’d prefer to avoid that, then it’s important to know going in. The narrative isn’t exactly okay with it or promoting it, but… I don’t know, in a way it does. The ending, mostly, is what made me feel iffy about it.
It’s also an interesting exploration of Native American community and identity, on which I don’t even know how to begin to comment.
It’s powerful and, yes, that word visceral that gets thrown around. And I’m finding myself otherwise at a loss to describe it.
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