THE TWISTED ONES combines the mundane drudgery and strangeness of cleaning out a hoarder's house with the fantastical creepiness of a technically-not-haunted forest with twisted rocks and strange effigies. 
I appreciate the way that the framing clearly situates this as a story being told after the narrator and her dog have survived the events in question, it would be a monumentally more stressful story if I'd had to wonder whether the dog dies. The dread lies instead in the very large gap between surviving and escaping unscathed, and in the pages upon pages of descriptions of what was in this particular hoarder's house. It ratcheted up the tension by inches, as the intensity of the supernatural events increased periodically while the sheer volume and detail of the house's contents were a steady drip of very plausible weirdness. 

The main character, Mouse, is a great narrator, with the quirkiness of specificity bringing a great style to her asides and characterizations. Bongo (the dog) comes through so well in her descriptions, doing things that make sense for who he is as a dog, even (or perhaps especially) when such actions complement the narrative as a thriller. The secondary characters are detailed enough to feel like full people without distracting from the main events, and I like the group who helps her out towards the end (Foxy's my favorite).

There's a particular litany, both read and thought by Mouse, which gradually turned into an earworm in my own thoughts in a way that makes the horror even more effective. It made it feel like the book was escaping its confines, or at the very least it makes it alarmingly plausible that Mouse could be just the latest in a line of people who became stuck on that refrain.

The ending is terrifying, bringing together the more mundane horror of a hoarder's house together with the supernatural elements in a fantastically scary climax. It had felt like the collection of stuff and the creepy things outside were two separate worlds but the meeting between them was one of the scariest things I've read in a while. The final scenes at the house are absolutely chilling, leading to an resolution that feels just as right as it is weird and sad.

 This was recommended to me based on being about cannibal nuns, but I didn't realize how much pregnancy and dread of pregnancy would feature in it. 

THE SONG OF ACHILLES is the story of Achilles’s boyhood and (most of) the Trojan War, as told by his lover, Patroclus. Patroclus’ focus is ever on Achilles, for Achilles is Patroclus’ love and it’s so moving to tell this story through the warm glow of that adoration and desire. 

I like how it handles the very high number of sexual assaults and consent violations which are, in many ways, the backbone of Greek mythology (or at least the family trees). Just giving proper context to this story and to events in Patroclus' and Achilles' lives requires some discussion of these themes, and I think it did as well as it could without feeling very anachronistic. This is a beautiful retelling of a tragic story, it makes me wish that Achilles, Patroclus, and Breisis could have been happy together, but it wasn't meant to be.

This retelling takes the stance that Achilles was definitely gay, with zero interest in women, and it seems to heavily imply that maybe Patroclus could have been happy with a woman but he has eyes only for Achilles. That does however lead to some interesting story decisions which have to be resolved, given the source material. It keeps one very notable instance of Achilles sleeping with a woman, and artfully dodges another that would be assumed to have happened but technically could be worked around. It did give it a kind of biphobic air to this retelling, like it's working so hard to show the love and devotion between Achilles and Patroclus that it shoves away any hint of intimacy or connection with women on Achilles' part. I'm not a Classics scholar and I don't know if the rejection is part of the myth, it just felt kind of bad in a few places because of it. It ends up working as part of Achilles' slow transformation from a kid who didn't want to hurt anyone into a stubborn asshole who let a lot of people die for his pride, but it did make me dislike him by the end. Patroclus' has a consistently rosy view of Achilles and mourns this change rather than rejecting him for it, which definitely helped me keep caring about the story even as I liked Achilles himself less and less. 

I liked it overall and I'm glad I read it, anything that manages to make Achilles feel like slightly less of an asshole than most portrayals of him is doing a great job, and this manages that without stripping away the abrasive parts of his character. 

SHE WHO BECAME THE SUN is a queer reimagining of the rise of the founding emperor of the Ming Dynasty, featuring a female monk (disguised) whose fate is intertwined with an eunuch who commands an army. It explores destiny, longing, and the weight of expectations which are often inextricable from gender, but also the adaptability of those who side-step that binary by choice, inclination, birth, or trauma. It’s subtle, nuanced, and occasionally blunt in just the right places to make sure the theme is unmistakable. 

The characters are vibrant and the politics are intricate without being overwhelming. Part of what keeps that balance is that different characters will think about the same events differently, providing for natural refreshers of what's happened and what's important, but without reusing descriptions. The rotation between Zhu, Ouyang, and (eventually) Ma is occasionally broken by brief sections following secondary or minor characters. Each change in perspective brings something to the scene that a different narrator wouldn't have noticed, or, occasionally, is used to make a revelation more poignant when shown through someone who doesn't initially understand what they're seeing (there's a particular reunion which uses this to great advantage). This has discussions of power, position, sacrifice, and cost, along with who pays what prices for which power. It frequently takes note of which language is being spoken, and how the character feels about switching from one language to another, particularly but not only when Ouyang is narrating. It creates these little moments where the language spoken in the room changes the feeling of the moment and affects how the other characters react. It's a small detail, but one I really like. The approach to depicting the horrors of war is very deft, it tends to focus on the emotional impact of whatever violence or death occurred rather than gory descriptions of the event itself. 

I love this and I want more. The ending is satisfying, poised on the eve of the next step for certain events. This definitely feels like phase one of a much larger story, and I'm ready for the next one.

DEATHLESS DIVIDE is a strong sequel, briefly echoing some of the events of DREAD NATION in a new town before things take a grimly foreseen turn, setting the characters on a new, even bloodier path on their way to California.

The emotional core of the story is the friendship between Katherine and Jane, as this tests how far Jane will go for vengeance and how far Katherine is willing and able to follow her. They began the first book as social rivals and ended it scarred by the same waves of zombies and death, as well as a myriad of more individualized heartaches and wounds. DEATHLESS DIVIDE continues their dangerous trek as they try to keep the other members of their traveling party alive. 

This wraps up several things left hanging from the previous book. The main storyline starts here and mostly wasn’t present before, with several big things that are both introduced and resolved within DEATHLESS DIVIDE. This appears to be the end of the duology, and while the world of these stories is grand enough to contain more tales it does feel complete for these particular characters. There was a particular goal expressed early in DREAD NATION which ends up resolved, and that in particular helps this to feel like the end of the story. Jane is a returning narrator and her voice is consistent with the first book. Katherine is a welcome addition as narrator, and her view of herself and of Jane is very different from Jane’s perception of them. They're a fine pair of narrators, seeing each of them through the other one’s eyes is a great way to explore their personalities.

I like a lot of the secondary characters, both the new ones and the returning minor characters who get more of a role this time around. There was a tendency for the book to feel like it picked them up and then just shoved them to the background as they stopped being relevant to some emotional beat in Jane and Katherine's journey. Sue is consistently present, which was nice, and the very dangerous journey meant that the very large cast was necessary as people kept dying and getting replaced by new people to keep safe. Part of that is because the plot isn't about them and it isn't trying to be, but it did make for a strange feeling every time a new person was introduced as I waited to find out whether they were going to get killed or just fade into the background. Lily in particular faded, she was so important as a person to find and keep safe in DREAD NATION and then she just is around but mostly stops being relevant less than halfway through DEATHLESS DIVIDE. I know how she ends up, the story doesn't lose track of her so this isn't a plot hole or something, but it felt odd, and she wasn't the only one this happened to. It might be a reflection of how much Jane and Katherine are surrounded by death and it makes Jane in particular pretty numb to other people's feelings, so anyone that only Jane was keeping track of is prone to fade from the story.

This is a great finish to a solid duology with vibrant main characters and a very memorable setting. I had a great time reading it and I like how it ended, it was open enough to imply possibilities while also addressing the whole reason for their quest for California in the first place.