I’m into the final stretch of this series, book thirteen of fifteen. And I already have the next two checked out from the library (no more waiting in between books!). 

The book centers on one character we’ve seen quite a bit, but still don’t know too much about: Vasic. Having been introduced to him as an Arrow, a very powerful natural Tk and teleporter, and super Silent and intimidating. But we also know, from a few interactions with Judd and the Arrow’s leader, Aden, that his mental state, after everything he was forced to do by Ming, isn’t great; his guilt is overpowering and he’s already started to give up on life. On the other hand, we get a completely new character in Ivy Jane. She’s a suppressed Empath, a powerful one, and one of the first that is approached by Kaleb to help with his E-based experiment to combat the sickness in the PsyNet. When Vasic is assigned to be her personal guardian, the protective instincts he has in general turn into something more for Ivy.  For her part, Ivy cannot help but feel for the Arrow whose violent history is threatening to bury him, and decides to protect him, fight for his life/future, as well. 

Well, if you made it to this book/review, it’s no secret that Silence has fallen in the Psy population. But people area still very unclear what that means. There is dissent from those who liked or depended on Silence, fear from those who want to come out from its oppression but aren’t sure it isn’t a trick or that it will last, and those like Vasic who think that even though they got what they fought for in Silence’s dissolution, it’s too late for them personally. This pairing of an (outwardly) cold-blooded assassin and a (newly coming into her own) deeply emotional being is a match made in “too convenient” heaven, but honestly that didn’t stop me from being super invested. I honestly thought it would have. However, I am always on board for a good “dark” hero (for lack of a better way to describe it), so I should have known better. Even if the pairing was convenient, the way the world has been set up over the last 12 books, the way this forced proximity situation fell out does make sense. And I know I mentioned this in my last review, but I was also very excited for the rest of the Arrows to find their deserved peace/happier endings (like Judd), because seriously, they have really suffered so much. Anyways, all that to say, I was actually quite into Vasic and Ivy. They were a great light and dark couple and their parallel but very different forms of extreme protectiveness matched the other well, and the hope they gave each other towards redemption and/or coming into their own was nicely developed. Also, their “discovering how to be intimate” together was adorable. And sometimes hilarious – the spontaneous teleporting was definitely one of the favorite Psy intimacy side effects.  

This book also had a ton of forward movement in the overall, Psy storyline, as the Net was breaking down/restabilizing post-Silence. (There was quite a bit of death and violence related to this aspect of the story, so I do recommend I was interested in the various sub-designations for the Empaths that showed up as they started to figure more out about themselves (I identify a lot with their abilities, so I liked reading about the subtle ways they differed to help people). The final discovery, for how everything played out to save the PsyNet, was a really cool take on the importance of emotional connection, its protective factors. I was into that. 

The focus here was, naturally, a Psy-Psy relationship and the dire straits of the PsyNet, so there wasn’t as much cameo-ing from other races and previous couples. Obviously, we saw a bit of Kaleb and Sahara, as well as some Sascha and Lucas, due to the major roles they clearly have in saving the Net and related to Empaths. But otherwise, we got a lot of vague statements about how the changelings and humans were helping control violent outbreaks, but not of lot of specifics. I see why, but I am hoping that we get a little more from the others in the final books. This new world situation is going to call for a lot of cooperation and I don’t want those threads to be left hanging, because this series has honestly done a really great job with world-building and interconnectedness of stories (more than I was every expecting) and I know it’s a lot to pull together, but I want to it to end strongly.   

The long and short of this review is that I liked this one a lot more than I was expecting too. Vasic and Ivy’s relationship and character development (together and separate) got me right in the deep feels and I loved that. The single-species-focus plot made sense at this point in the story and is clearly setting up for the “end” that is coming. And you know me, I’ve already started the next one. 

 As you may have noticed, I have been getting really into (mostly queer) graphic novels. On a Sunbeam and The Magic Fish were two favorites from last year. I'm finding that I am enjoying the quick, low key escapism of the stories and being swept into the illustrations. Plus, they are great quick reads if I'm short on time or needing more of a literary palate cleanser. In any case, I had this one on my short list for the next time I was in the mood for this type of reading experience, based on reviews/recommendations I'd seen. And this snowy, freezing weather put me right in that mood.

While Prince Sebastian's parents are pressuring him into finding a princess and stepping up for his future as a ruler, he's keeping a major secret under wraps. At night, he dons dramatic dresses, designed and sewn by his personal seamstress (and friend!), Frances, and heads out on the town as the Lady Crystallia. But Frances wants more out of life than to be his seamstress, she wants a future of her own and dreams of her own fame, which she cannot do while staying in the shadows to protect Sebastian's secret. So, Sebastian will have to make some tough choices about his secrets, his family's expectations, and his own future. 

This graphic novel, from the story to the illustrations, had such energy to it! Sebastian and Frances were so alive, in their ambitions and passions, that they just popped from the page. There was a real purity in each of them, as they worked to try and figure out who they are, a sort of separately together coming of age. Neither could have found their way forwards without the other's help, but at the same time, they each still had to face a few confrontations/decisions on their own, and that interplay felt very authentic. Also, there was such a wonderful wholesome quality to the way things ended, after the inevitable conflict, and I think Sebastian's father's final handling of the situation (IYKYK) is one of the best little parts of any book I've read in awhile! Adorbs and heart-filling.

I do have to say that there were a couple times while reading this one that the narrative felt a bit inconsistent. There wasn't quite a total smoothness to the flow and a few times, though I followed the overall arc fine, the jumpiness wasn't ideal. Also, although I know both characters were working their own "issues" out, I wished there had been a bit more awareness, at least in the end, that they had put unfair pressure on each other (to keep secrets at their own expense or being asked to come out before they're ready). Like, I get in the moment, while growth is happening, things aren't perfect. But they had a fairly big split and then came back together without ever acknowledging or discussing the hurt they (inadvertently) caused each other. Also, personal preference here, but I do wish their relationship had stayed a bit more platonic, because that felt more genuine for them. I am here for the positive example of queer love, but like, good friendships are just as necessary and important to have positive examples of. 

 

Overall, this was a fun, upbeat story of identity and art set in a sort of alternate present-day monarchical France. Although some more complex topics (like being outed and societal expectations) are addressed a bit, the primary vibe is one of entertainment, acceptance and learning to have joy in and be proud of who you are. 

 

 

The first book in the Teixcalaan series, A Memory Called Empire, made my favorites of the year list in 2020. It was such a phenomenally detailed space opera that totally swept me off into its world (but also really made me work for it, with the intensity of the world-building). That being said, I bought myself a copy of the sequel as soon as it came out. Though as I'm sure everyone could have predicted, it took me much longer than that to finally get to reading it. 

 

A Desolation Called Peace throws us right back into the Teixcalaan Empire, as fleet commander yaotlek Nine Hibiscus is facing down an enemy armada, one that communicates in an unintelligible language that makes listeners feel physically ill and whose weapons are nigh on unbeatable. As more of her people die every day, Nine Hibiscus reaches out to the Information Ministry for help, and is answered immediately by Three Seagrass, whose life has felt quite mundane since the events of the last book and Mahit Dzmare's departure. She decides to answer the call by heading to the warfront herself, with a stop along the way to pick up Mahit from her home Lsel Station. Thoroughly surprised by Three Seagrass' arrival, Mahit takes her up on the (only sort of optional) invitation to head to the front as a reprieve from a tense political situation at Lsel (related to the suspected poor integration of herself with her imago predecessor Yskandr). Together, under Nine Hibiscus' tight watch, the two women enter into an unprecedented and very precarious attempt to make first contact (and negotiation) with the aliens attacking Teixcalaanli's fleet, attempting to do the almost impossible and prevent what looks to be an inevitable violent conflict (while simultaneously figuring out what their own interpersonal relationship reality is).  

 

I feel like that was a super long summary blurb, but it also feels ok that I said that much. There's no real secret or twist in this novel that could be given away. And if you read and liked the first one enough to want to read this one, you're in it for the detail, the language and the political intrigue and the continuation of the wonderful subtleties in Martine's world-building. And to get that, you really do have to read the full book anyways. So, all that having laid the foundation, let me just say that this is quite possibly one of the best sequels I've ever read. It builds perfectly on the Teixcalaanli world we were introduced to in the first, all the intricacies of setting and communication and politics internal to the empire, and expands it outward, external. It's the perfect way to grow that both complements and doesn't repeat anything. With that expansion in scope comes an expansion in lingual understanding, Martine's particular speciality, based on how elaborate that aspect is in both novels now. The coded ways of talking, of sharing meaning without saying it directly, but rather approximating the words you actually mean, is masterful and fascinating. And I love the way language is presented in conjunction with cultural ideology here, like the idea of having a word for loss being innately and necessarily connected to the people having the concept of loss and/or pronouns being necessarily preceded by the concept of a self. Amazing and such intelligent writing/philosophy. 

 

I enjoyed watching the way Mahit got to grow in this one, since the shell-shocked "new ambassador" reality was less immediate (though she moved into "shell-shocked for other reasons" pretty swiftly). The point is, though, she had a little more space to work to comes to terms with the duality of her love for Teixcalaan everything (language/culture) and her anger at the way it colonized and labeled her and her people barbarian, along with the additional complications of her feelings for Three Seagrass and the further intertwining of herself and Yskandr's minds. Related, the push and pull of Three Seagrass and Mahit’s emotional connection to each other, despite all ingrained social reasons against it, was written so well. This particular relationship is tightly intertwined, thematically and representationally, with Martine's conceptual exploration of colonization: a nuanced look at colonizers/the colonized and the complex relationships between them, as affection and interest grow, but a deep lack of awareness of how to correctly respect/acknowledge from the colonizer (to the extreme that they don’t even understand how minimizing/insulting they are being), that the gulf between is potentially uncrossable despite all individual want to the contrary. There were some other newer, or more fully developed, characters that I really enjoyed reading as well. Nine Hibiscus and her adjutant, Twenty Cicada, were fascinating to read. And I actually liked Eight Antidote’s narrative sections as well. They were a humorous and mature-childlike way to learn and tell a story to make the political complexity of this story and Teixcalaan's foreign relations, diplomacy and internal affairs, accessible to readers (similarly to the way seeing it through Mahit’s fresh ambassador eyes did in the first book). 

 

Overall, this was a most spectacular, very original, first contact story. The feelings of excitement and terror intermingled and communicated so well that I *felt* them myself. All the pressure of international conflict, mass casualties, time crunch and myriad other horrible outcomes riding on whether or not successful contact/negotiation could be made was intense and I loved it! Plus, all the interpersonal stuff and ideological compulsions and nuances on top of it: nonstop reader engagement. This sequel, expanding on the first but really a standalone in its own right, was simply magnificent. 

 

“This was definitely true and also not very comforting at all. True things weren’t, mostly.” 

 

“…a person who so loved […] that she’d replaced her ethical responsibilities with the appalling brightness of that love, and didn’t care what she burned out to preserve it.” 

 

“For assuming she would come with her, of course she would – and not thinking that when the Empire asked, even in the person of a friend, a maybe-lover, there really was no way for a barbarian to say no and keep being the kind of barbarian the Empire thought of as a person.” 

 

“Language is not so transparent, but we are sometimes known, even so. If we are lucky.” 

 

Book twelve! And this one definitely had some mystery surrounding it, as far as the primary characters involved and the direction the overall plot was going to take during it. And I can see why, if a potential reader was perusing blurbs about the books to see whose stories are upcoming. If you are in any way not interested in hearing who this installation focuses on, maybe go ahead and skim this review (or just know that it was a top fav of mine, of the series, and have that be your major takeaway). However, if you’ve gotten within 4 books prior to this one, the secrets aren’t really all that secret. It’s just that the mystery of the blurb adds to the overall vibe. Anyways, here we go with the actual review. 

Heart of Obsidian gives us, after quite a bit of foreshadowing and build-up, Kaleb Krycheck’s story. The dark, silent (and Silent), dangerous, super powerful Psy is one that I would not have expected getting to star in his own romance, but I think I loved it even more because of that. The mysterious lady in his sights is Sahara Kyriakus, someone we have literally never heard of before (or maybe she was mentioned once in Faith’s story, but that was a long time ago now). As we know, Kaleb has been searching for someone since we first met him, and we finally find who that is. As the novel unfolds, we learn, alongside Sahara herself, what Kaleb’s connection to/obsession with her actually is (the events that kept her hidden from him having forced her into a mental state that has caused her to forget much of her past). Though, despite her lack of specific Kaleb-related memory, the feeling of “safety” she has while around him is unignorable. While their feeling for each other finally get the space and freedom to recover from the past, and grow into something greater, around them the PsyNet is falling for real. Pure Psy carries out violent attack after violent attack and the time for Kaleb to make his move to control the Net is fast approaching. 

Well, this book was explosive – in both the literal and figurative sense of the word. And, in a surprise to me (because a Psy-Psy relationship isn’t one that I thought would be my favorite), this is probably my second favorite after Hawke and Sienna. I think the fact that there was quite a bit of build-up, in both cases, really helped. However, this one took me a bit longer to get invested in. The first third or so, before we started to get more real background on Kaleb and Sahara, as her memories came back to her, I was still unsure. But as I watched the start of their story unfold, with its unmitigated sweetness and purity of connection, flying in the face of everything around them, my heart just melted. And finding out the end of it – well, more the intermission of it – was heartbreaking (and hard to read; cw: physical and psychological torture with a tie-in to a much earlier evil character that was just as bad as the first time we dealt with him). Kaleb and Sahara are the perfect hard and soft opposites for each other, filling out the other’s needs with a loyalty and love (and a willingness to both truly see each other, and to sacrifice everything for the other, on both sides) that runs deeper than everything they went through. And I loved watching that develop both in the past and in real time. (I’m a bit of a sucker for a dark, almost unsavable, hero and Kaleb is that in spades; while Sahara holds her own in a way that is equally attractive.) Long story short: this couple gets a big yes from me. 

There were also kind of a lot of other things going on throughout the novel and pushed the overarching plot forward in an extreme way, with Kaleb and Sahara’s connection acting as the final straw in the Psy civil war. Pure Psy really went for it in this book, playing all their cards, big time, and things got ugly. Lots of death as things within the Net came to a head. This, of course, led to quite a bit of collateral damage external to the Net, which allowed for the collaboration among the humans, changelings and anti-Pure Psy (so, necessarily now, pro the fall of Silence) Psy contingents to really take some major forward steps. There as one scene, as they all came together to plan/respond, when so many of the MCs of previous books/the series were together in one room, that was just really satisfying, as a reader who has made it through so many books in this series so far. 

Also, which makes sense if you think about it, there is quite a bit of exposition related to the current state of affairs within the Arrow contingent, and other opposition facets of the Net, and I think that sets up some of the final romances we are going to get (which I’m happy about, if I’m right, because those people deserve love more than anyone else.) In particular, we get the major reveal we’ve all been waiting for re: the Ghost, which wasn’t necessarily a surprise, but the emotion/relationships behind it that were revealed once we know were surprisingly affecting.     

This book ended with a very definite turn taken internally with the Psy related to Silence, and with an unprecedented inter-species cooperation reality after all the trauma/disaster, and I am very excited to see how the next books move to address the aftermath and close out the conflict and the series.                   

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Continuing my slow, but hopefully steady, read through of the 2022 Aspen Words Literary Prize longlist, this is my third of the bunch. Powers has had a number of really popular releases over the past few years, but I have never really been moved to pick any of them up. The same was true of this one, if I'm being honest. But because he is so popular, it was one of the easier ones to get my hands on, so I got to it sooner rather than later.  

 

Theo Byrne is an astrobiologist and, now, single father (after the untimely death of his wife in an accident). Theo feels in over his head raising his nine-year-old, Robin,who is a unique child, tender-hearted and fixedly focused on animal rights advocacy and preservation, while struggling in school to control certain emotional reactions to interpersonal interactions. Theo is advised by the school multiple times that Robin should consider further help with his sociality and emotional control, including the potential for medication. Theo desperately wants to avoid that and, instead, reaches out to a fellow researcher to try an experimental neurofeedback treatment. And the reader is brought along on an intimate journey with Theo and Robin, as they jointly navigate the universal complications of family, grief, society, environmental justice, and the political landscape. 

 

Well, I am grateful to Aspen Words for making me pick up this short but impactful novel. Like I said, I would not have done so under just my own volition, and I am truly glad to have spent my time within its pages. First of all, the writing was simply gorgeous. It was tender and poetic and full of feeling juxtaposed perfectly with science and precision and sparseness. I know that there were some criticisms of Powers' choice to euphemistically refer to many fully recognizable characters/parallels to real life (Marie Kondo, TED Talks, Greta Thunberg, Trump, to name a few), and questions as to why he didn't just name them. But for me, the sort of speculative fiction vibe to the story was well served by the choice to use euphemisms/alternate names. Knowing what they referred to meant that the impact of the messages wasn't lessened, but I was simultaneously able to stay "escaped" into the world he created, instead of being thrust back into "real" life too harshly. I also loved the way Theo uses his education/knowledge as an astrobiologist to fuel his imagination, creating (fully developed/realistic) planets as metaphors for life and social emotional teaching moments for Robin. That, and really the majority of their father-son interactions, are so sweet. 

 

There are quite a few major themes that Powers packs into this slim novel, bringing a depth to each that is quite impressive considering how little space he does it in. He spins astronomy/science, social commentary, environmental justice, grief and family loss, touching and poignant father son moments, and a criticism of the way this country stifles and limits anyone who is non-neurotypical (in ways especially egregious with children), together with such finesse. Powers meditates on the importance of empathy, not just for fellow humans, but also for other species, (and how that would make us better humans); through Robin's eyes, this is a particularly powerful and affecting message. And with that, he illustrates the heart-wrenching and terrifying effects of the decline of the world as we know it, specifically natural/environmental and human/interactive, on children; the deep and inescapable trauma of watching that happen in real time, as adults seem to do little to address/stop it. (And as the adult, where do you draw the line between your child's innocence and the need for them to know the truth?) Finally, there is a great exploration of the harmful effects of radicalized politicalization, dogma, religious fanaticism, on individual lives.   

 

The one thing that did strike a bit of a warning bell was the overall reaction from Theo to the use of diagnosis/medication to help his son. I definitely understand that it can be an overwhelming suggestion to a parent and, after working in school systems quite a bit, is over-suggested (for sure). However, the tone of this novel as so deeply anti-diagnosis/medicine is a bit concerning. There are many cases where medication is both necessary and extremely beneficial and ruling it out on principle seems like a dangerous agenda to push. Frustration with a lack of consensus from professionals involved does make sense, but mental health is complex, not always straightforward. I feel like there could have been a few steps between the suggestions of school psychologists/counselors and Theo's full rejection of them as a parent who "knows best" (even after myriad admittances that he feels out of his depth as a parent?). Overall, I felt greater compromise or cooperation might have been better, as a message to the public? Maybe even just an acknowledgement that the extremity of Theo's reactions and/or the validity of other options and/or a line showing that further conversations were had but still no compromise was found? I don't know. While reading, I empathized with Theo, and understood the reasons and emotions that drove his decision making, so within that context, it did fit. And yet, it also really read like Powers had an agenda there, beyond the characterization of Theo within the novel, and it was the one thing that sort of pulled me from the narrative. 

 

I'm also not sure how I felt about the ending. It was a gut punch in the moment for sure, but after sitting with it...it seems too easy? Other reviews have noted that it is a reference/homage to Flowers for Algernon, which is mentioned throughout the novel, but having never read it myself, I can only say how I reacted to the ending in this one context, without that influence. And in this case, I felt like it allowed Theo an escape that undermined some of the progress and emotionality of the rest of the story. 

 

The combination of curiosity and fear/loss, the grounding of one mixed with the out-of-control of the other, that form the baseline for this book conceptually is really well executed. There is such a rising and crashing of hope, as the emotional line traveled by the reader, and it was quite affecting. There is a line from a poem by Pablo Neruda that Powers uses to describe Theo's wife throughout the novel, “compact but planetary,” that feels like the perfect descriptor for the scope and feel of the themes and writing in this novel as well. A stunning, gorgeously rendered, introspective piece of fiction. 

 

“I wanted to tell the man that everyone alive on this fluke little planet was on the spectrum. That's what a spectrum is. I wanted to tell the man that life itself is a spectrum disorder, where each of us vibrated at some frequency in the continuous rainbow.” 

 

“Nobody’s perfect [...] But, man, we all fall short so beautifully.” 

 

“Every belief will be outgrown, in time. THe first lesson of the universe is to never reason from a single instance. Unless you only have one instance. In which case: find another.” 

 

“…but against shamelessness, outrage is impotent.” 

 

"We learned how the Constitution was one thing and the local powers of enforcement were another. That alone was enough civics lesson to show why legal public demonstration was never enough to threaten the status quo.” 

 

“He wanted drama and showdown and righteous calls for justice from concerned citizens. Instead, he got America.” (Wow, what a sobering and upsetting statement about this country.) 

 

“In the face of the world's basic brokenness, more empathy meant deeper suffering.” 

 

“Earth had two kinds of people: those who could do that math and follow the science, and those who were happier with their own truths. But in our hearts' daily practice, whatever schools we went to, we all lived as if tomorrow would be a clone of now.” 

 

“The trap evolution shaped for us: the entire species might have been on the line, and I'd still worry first about my son.” 

 

"Oh, this planet was a good one. And we, too, were good, as good as the burn of the sun and the rain's sting and the smell of living soil, the all-over song of endless solutions signing the air of a changing world that by every calculation ought never to have been." 

 

It has been, embarrassingly, years since I read City of Brass. In my defense, this book wasn't published yet, at the time, for me to have continued with the series then (though I do remember wishing it was). Anyways, as with The Poppy War series, I waited wayyyy too long between the first and second books (I had to find more than one summary/review, outside of my own, to read and recap so I remembered enough of the characters and details to feel ready to continue). But, silver lining (in both cases actually), the third and final book has also been published now, so I can jump right to it! And let me tell you, I plan to do just that. 

 

While the novel starts with a short intro that gives some small insight into the immediate aftermath of the events of book one (Nahri's marriage, Dara's death, Ali's banishment), it jumps very quickly to "five years later." Nahri is doing her best to survive her life at court, basically confined to her healing rooms both physically and in action/attention, without any of the allies that made her first days in court bearable, trapped and powerless within the city and palace that are hers by right. Ali managed to survive a brutal introduction to the arid lands of his ancestors, as well as a slew of assassins, and has made a sort of life for himself, leaning into (while keeping very secret) the water-based gifts given to him by the marid. Dara was brought back from the dead (again) by a very unexpected hand, to help train and lead a force (of partially dubious provenance) with the goal of returning Daevabad's riginaly rulers to their rightful place. These three storylines unfold simultaneously, and slowly in convergence, against a complex political/religious/personal backdrop, coming to a head with violent consequences as a once-per-century djinn celebration kicks off. 

 

Well, if I finished the first book thinking that Chakraborty was a star with world-building, I am finishing this second book convinced that very few are as good as she is. The setting is so alive. Daevabad itself remains as vivid and gilded as before, but with 600 more pages of layered history, descriptions, and interactions of the peoples. Plus, we get additional "outside the city" perspectives and growth more here as well, with Ali's time in Am Gezira and his mother's home (Ta Ntry) and tribe (the Ayaanle). As a major part of this spectacular world-building, I must mention the complex and detailed political (and religious, though mostly in overlap) maneuvering/machinations/plotting/scheming. There is so much “trading decency for a throne” …or power in these pages. You can, quite simply, lose yourself in it. But like, in the best way. With this comes some very deep familial cruelty and misguided loyalty that is heartbreaking to read at times. We always hurt the ones we love the most, when threatened. And so many times here, acting to protect someone you love, especially by withholding truth/information, ends up doing more harm than good. Thematically tough, but so real. Overall, just some of the most lush world-building I've ever read. 

 

Character-wise, I have only similar praise to give. Nahri, Ali and Dara all benefit greatly, in terms of depth, throughout this novel. And I remain very into the way they subvert what the normal love triangle looks like. There is additional attention paid to side characters, originals like Muntadhir and Zaynad and Hatset and Jamshid and Kaveh, but also some newly introduced ones like Aqisa, the ifrit, some shafit, and a few others that I won't necessarily name, in order to avoid spoilers. I loved it all. And I have to say, I was least into Nahri's development, honestly. I wanted her to be...more. But I guess I understand her constraints, she did stay consistent with her goal of saving lives (any lives), and she did have a few breakout moments towards the end, so I am hoping that the final book does her arc a little more justice.  

 

As far as the plot is concerned, I almost have to say that, at least for the first like two thirds of the novel, there wasn't one. Now, don't get me wrong, I was deeply invested in the development of place and character, and the build-up of it all, because I knew something was coming. There was a deep feeling of unrest, almost anticipatory uneasiness, both in the story/characters and within myself as a reader. And I loved the way that feeling escalated as we got closer and closer to what I just knew was impending doom. However, outside that feeling, very little actually happened...so I would caution you to be sure that's the type of book you are in the mood for, before picking this one up. However, of note, when the action began, with about a quarter of the book left (ish), things got real. The pacing, with perspectives jumping from Dara to Ali to Nahri with perfect timing, was phenomenal. Edge of one's seat type reading. Worth the wait in the build-up for sure. And with the cliffs that each of our main characters end on (plus, some additional "characters to watch," including both of Ali's siblings, Zaynab and Muntadhir, as well as Jamshid and Aqisa), I am quite ready to pick up the final installation, and watch the ending unfold, as soon as possible.  

 

Chakraborty puts a deep focus on uncovering/unveiling the truth of history and the stories that are now accepted as truth, despite what the reality actually was, for reasons of maintaining power or avoiding guilt. She really demonstrates how only with the correct information can current consequences of violent/unfair history be rectified. Because after generations and centuries of curses and revenges and betrayals and death, how else (better than the endless examples of how those who are oppressed and given no other option/recourse will rise up with violence, without mercy) can people(s) overcome a legacy like that? (Ummmm, sound familiar to present day much? I think big yes.) 

 

With captivating storytelling, intricate political and locational detail, discerning character development, and well-paced (when it arrives) action, Chakraborty transports the reader on a fantastic Middle Eastern history and culture inspired journey. It's a mythical, magical and entirely absorbing adventure. I cannot wait to see how it ends! 

 

“People do not thrive under tyrants, Alizayd; they do not come up with innovations when they're busy trying to stay alive, or offer creative ideas when error is punished…” 

 

“You don’t need to be a weapon to be an asset.”   

 

“I’m tired of everyone in this city feeding on vengeance. I'm tired of teaching our children to hate and fear other children because their parents are our enemies. And I'm sick and tired of acting like the only way to save our people is to cut down all who might oppose us, as if our enemies won't return the favor the instant power shifts.” (Basically, sums up all of Ali/Dara/Nahri's vibes in this book.) 

 

After another (what felt like) interminable wait for my hold on this next book to come in at the library, I have officially jumped into the final third of the series. I'm actually really impressed with myself that I have hung onto it over months, even through long waits. My previous paranormal romance series binges have all fizzled out on their own, but I am legitimately invested, apparently, in the overarching story that Singh has created here. Plus, it helps that these are such fast reads, and still meeting my escapist needs. 

 

This eleventh installment keeps us with the SnowDancer pack, with our leading couple being Adria (Indigo's aunt, who we met previously and who had a toxic previous relationship that she is still overcoming) and Riaz (Indigo's ex-lover and still close friend, a lone wolf who found his mate, but she was already in love with someone else, so he's been working through all that on his end). As their sort-of enemies to lovers, or more like "trying to avoid feelings" to lovers, unfolds, we simultaneously get a considerable amount of page time from Hawke and Sienna, as their relationship develops further and Sienna works to further build her position within the pack and her own confidence on that front. And, of course, the looming Psy civil war situation continues to escalate, with quite a few Psy-internal casualties. 

 

 This was a fairly different kind of romance, as far as the rest of the series so far. I mean all the characters have come into their relationships with some serious past trauma, but this was unique because for Riaz, his past trauma is the fact that he already found his mate, and cannot be with her. So we're looking at a "normal" committed relationship here (like the ones we saw previously with Max/Sophia and Dev/Katya), one that is every bit as powerful, but without that specific mating bond that comes with changeling relationships and kinda changes the depth of things a bit. I liked it, to be honest. Riaz and Adria both had to figure out for themselves, without any supernatural help, that they wanted to give their relationship everything they had, despite past pain, and trust the other to do so (to be able to do so) as well. Not why I get into paranormal romances, usually, but since this series is so long, it was a nice mix up. And, of course, since they were both changeling, the amount, and steraminess factor, of the physical/intimate scenes was great. 

 

As we all already know, Hawke and Sienna are far and away my favorite story, so I was thrilled to see so much of them here, in ways that were deeper than the surface-level screentime a lot of the other previous couples are given. The development of some of the other pieces of the SnowDancer story, like the negotiations with the BlackSea "pack," were really interesting to read. I love the idea of a sea-based changeling conglomerate a lot, though I wouldn't really be able to explain why. It was just a fun new addition. And bringing back the human Alliance was a nice addition here as well, to keep things fresh and, in the way they were reintroduced, to continue to add layers to the complexities of the internal Psy meltdown and the way it's affecting the other races. Also, some things happened with Alice that make me very curious to learn more about what she knows...  

 

And finally, speaking of the Psy...a lot happened here for them, on a grand scale. The steps the Pure Psy took here, to maintain Silence, are definitely leaning them past the logical Psy steps and into some really radical/idealized actions. So that heavy hypocrisy is definitely going to come back to haunt them. Plus, we get a bit more insight into the Arrows still in the PsyNet (Aden and Vasic get a lot of "growth" in the book) and waiting to see what they'll do when the chips are all down has got me very interested. (Plus, seeing them more in action, assassinating and stuff - phew!) And last, on the Psy front...seeing them ask for help from the changelings as a result of the extreme dangers/deaths from the Pure Psy situation/plans was monumental, within the series. Can't wait to see what other doors this first step opens, as we move forwards. 

 

All in all, while this one wasn't necessarily a favorite, it was great as far as moving the overarching plot along - I am starting to be able to feel the finale coming now. Adria and Riaz were a unique couple, relationship-wise, that I did enjoy reading (the changelings stories always have the best sex scenes and you know I'm here for that). And I was happy to jump back into the story development. Onwards to the next! 

 

I grabbed this one a few months ago from an online library book sale. I can't say for sure what made me choose it, but I think maybe the title just caught my attention? Anyways, it seems like I am on a roll with randomly picking up backlist titles from authors with new books coming out, because in addition to this one (Swamy's novel The Archer was just published), I also recently read Sindu's Marriage of a Thousand Lies right after her most recent book was published. Neither was on purpose - just a strange coincidence! 

 

As you may remember, though it has been awhile since I have read a short story collection, I usually organize reviews of them by giving a little blurb/reaction to each individual story, then finish with some overall thoughts at the end. So, let's jump into that: 

 

Blindness - This opening story has a real dreamlike and distant quality to the writing and the way the narrative jumps. It's like trying to reach out for something that is there, but distorted and just beyond your grasp. A really unique sort of compilation of pieces of dreams and imagined realities of lives that were or are or could be for the baby her body just recognized with. A note: inclusion of a number of oblique, but certain, references to different sexual coercion/assault/manipulations. 

 Mourners - A lovely (though sad) portrayal of the trancelike state that being enmeshed in grief puts one into, and the way it expands to a group, when facing it together (but still in an isolated way). 

 My Brother at the Station - I can’t really explain what it’s about, or what happens, in this story. There's a brother who sees spirits/knows things and we see how his knowing creates distance, maybe envy, between him and his sister...kinda. But the sense of wanting and fear within this story cuts deeply, even if the "plot" itself is vague. 

The Siege - This one was definitely my favorite story. A recognizable tale of the grief and powerlessness of the women behind "leading" men, women with the dubious gift of knowing what more grief is to come and being unable to prevent it. I do wish this one was longer though. I would read a full book based on these two primary female characters against the backdrop of an ancient war/siege. p.48 “When he was little, and asked me how he was born, I told him her was once a small rabbit, and I carried him around in the fold of my sari. Before a rabbit? A mouse. Before a mouse? A little moth that used to perch on my shoulder. Before a moth? A whisper.” / “I had thought that grief would make me brave against the rest of my fears: if the worst had come, there was nothing left to dread.” 

 Earthly Pleasures - There was something more intimate about this story, though that dreamy feeling was still there in the distant way the narrator moves through her interactions/days. The look at addiction here, in the way Swamy illustrates the promised state but always just out of reach perfect line of alcohol intake, the way searching for it creates a greater and greater remove from real life, the way our narrator ends up existing in the world and outside of it, is breathtaking. “The tricky thing about silence is its weight, the heaviness it gives a particular word or name that sits unspoken on your tongue. That word or name may grow over time, filling your mouth, your lungs, your belly, with the evil and beauty of its absence.” 

Wedding Season - What caught me here was all the ways you can recognize a body and it still be completely foreign to you, particularly a body so objectively different from your own, despite how familiar you are with it. It's such an abstract concept brought to language so deftly. There's a profound sort of sadness, but also a deep sweetness, in the limitations on how one can celebrate queer love but at least be able to have that love. Quietly powerful and one of my favorites of the collection.  “Eyes filled with each other. Love, perhaps, not a feeling, but a way of looking. Flooding open.” 

The Neighbors - Ooof, it was a slow build to get to it, but what an affecting way to convey the secret and solitary lives of domestic abuse, the quiet scrabbling for hope or denial, in different ways. Phew. 

A Simple Composition - There was a real underlying menace in this story, imagined and mental and obsessive, that cast a pall of discomfort/quiet agony over the story, which otherwise was just…a normal story of a couple leaving their homeland to start a new life elsewhere, following opportunity and education. It also aligned with the feelings of distance, this time cultural/lingual, that are threaded throughout this collection. “I feared I was utterly ordinary.” / “Real snow was so small, and came all at once, but gently, and fell in a way I had never seen anything fall before, with none of the weight and force of rain, with profound and unhurried silence.” (Something about this description of snow just, spoke deeply to me, in a very unexpected way.) 

The Laughter Artist - This one hurt. The recasting of a laugh, something supposedly light and happy, into the many ways it can be dark and painful and mean…I loved that. The artistic style of writing wasn’t something I’d want a full novel of, but it was perfect in this short story length. And while I’m not totally sure of the message/goal of the story, I'm left with a strong feeling of angry dissatisfaction. That deep but unclearly defined reactionary vibe is a hallmark of the writing in this collection and, from that perspective, this is one of the strongest stories, I thought. 

 

Didi - So short, but there was a unique innocence in this one, in all the characters, even the parents, despite the real life tragedy they lived through. And then the magic/blessing of coming out on the other side that almost felt unreal, like a dream, was spot on for the collection. 

A House Is a Body - This titular story is strong, a building fever with a building wildfire, the parallels of the house and the body, was gorgeous and terrifying in juxtaposition. Overall, touching and emotionally wrecking, though it’s hard to pinpoint how or why. Absolutely one of the best stories in the collection. 

 

Night Garden -  This was a wonderful dreamy, trance-like story to end with, a sort of sitting vigil for the rest of the characters and stories in the collection, as we say goodbye as a reader. It was a stand-off of humanity and animal both, but with animals as central and humans taking a backseat/observational position in an upheaval of our normal understanding of hierarchy, which was original and interesting. “What you have left is what you have.” 

 

I mentioned this a few times during my mini-reactions to each story, but really the overarching connective thread amongst these stories is their ethereal and ephemeral vibe. At the beginning, through at least the first half to two thirds of the collection, I felt like that was really it, that there wasn't really any other connection in these stories, in setting or character-type or time period or anything really, and I wasn't really sure how I felt about that purposeful disjointedness. But as I was reaching the end, there were a few things that I noticed seemed to be consistently present, in some way. As I mentioned, the vibe, and the feelings that I was left with as a reader, were a force. And with a subtle focus on the five senses, with different stories highlighting different ones, physical reactions/remembrances were more common for me than when I normally read. There was a concentration on the quotidian/everyday, taking the normal and making it less tangible/recognizable, more dream-like. The stories were low on plot, but had heavy nuance in relationships, with lots of internal complications and slow splittings/unknowings of couples, with a focus on the perspective of the women within them. Perhaps because of this style, I am already forgetting many of the details of the stories themselves, even having just finished reading last night, but I have  distinct sensory memories of how the stories made me feel.  

 

Overall, I'm split in my reactions to this collection. I am impressed with the writing, to the extent that it carried so much hazy, yet visceral, emotion. I don't even understand how that combination is possible - fascinating. And yet, few of the individual stories made an impression on me as a reader. So by the time I finished, the aura I was left with, though potent, wasn't quite enough to make up for that. In the end, I just wasn't able to like this collection as much as I wanted to, or wished I could have. There were some really wonderful stories though, and if you have been interested in picking this one up, I still think it would be worth your time to give it a try for yourself. 

 

I read You Had Me at Hola right at the end of 2020 and loved it. So the second my library got this next book in the Primas of Power series, I was all over. While it took awhile to get on the shelves, which was a tough wait to live through, the timing ended up being perfect because I got it right in time for the New Year's Day holiday and binge-read it all in that one day. The perfect way to start the year! 

 

The "prima" that stars in this second book is Michelle, who moved into freelance graphic design after some severe burnout in her corporate marketing position. And she's fine being single, really she is. Even in her Puerto Rican-Italian family that's obsessed with marriage. And then there's Gabe. He used to live next door to Michelle. They grew up together, maybe once had a chance to be more than just friends, but he left for college and never looked back. Thirteen years later, the gym Gabe co-owns is expanding from its home base in LA to NYC, and though he doesn't want to go back home, at all, he's taking the lead on the expansion. When his business partner reaches out to Michelle to help with the marketing for the expansion, the two are abruptly thrust back into each other's lives. And while both have reasons to steer clear of the other, they also can't deny the fact that the attraction that was there over a decade ago is just as strong, and their reunion takes a very steamy turn. When their families get involved though, they'll have to make some difficult decisions about how serious they really are about this second chance to be together. 

 

What a freaking wonderful follow-up to the first book. Daria brought it on all the parts I loved, like the support amongst the cousins, the complex and rowdy big family dynamics, the steaminess (and in fact, I believe that was kicked up a notch, in the best kind of way, in this installation), the great dialogue, the realistic (if heavy on the drama) life situations, and overall fire and life in story/characters. I thought the way Michelle and Gabe had to work together was a great premise, a fun forced proximity that allowed them space to get to re-know each other as adults, who they'd become, in a more or less safe way. Under the circumstances, as this was a romance, they also conveniently complemented each other. I did like how they were each able to, sort of unknowingly (or at least not fully intentionally), help the other move past a career rut they'd found themselves each, giving them the encouragement to make a change for themselves, unrelated to their interpersonal connections, that they were deeply needing to make. That was very fulfilling to read, as a side-plot to the sexy parts. 

 

A few other things jumped out at me while I read that I particularly enjoyed. They're kinda scattered, topically, so I'm going to just mash them all together here. As a person obsessed with being in a gym and working out, but who also tried it as a job and found it to not be what I'd hoped for, a number of parts of Gabe's story resonated with me. Plus, kudos to Daria for writing a fitness-career character with a focus on well-being and health, not physical appearance. I am here for that. I loved Michelle - she was so feisty and I was into the way she was so in charge in the bedroom (and out of it, of course). The fanfic! I loved the way it paralleled the story so adorably, I loved that that's how they two bonded as kids, and I loved the role it played in the end. *nerd swoons*  The bi rep! For both Gabe and Michelle! It felt really recognizable, for me. Loved it. The Spanish - not as much as in the first one, but still a highlight when it was there. And last, I'm gonna mention it again, because it deserves it: Daria writes big, messy, too-much-love families to perfection.        

 

This was a great second chance romance, with lots of spice, quick and easy writing, compelling individual professional story arcs for our professional leads, quite a bit of personal/familial growth for Gabe (as was needed, to make the second chance happen), and pages chock full of life. I so enjoyed my time with this book and all the feels it gave me. 

 

This was a "last day I worked at the library before the Holidays" impulse grab. Someone had returned it and, instead of sending it back to be shelved, I checked it right out to myself. I had seen a number of positive reviews for it and, while it isn't my normal reading genre (mystery/thriller isn't usually my cup of tea), I thought I'd take the recommendations and go for it, as a page-turner style book might be the perfect thing for a Holiday "escape" read. Plus, this was an ALC offering from libro.fm a few months ago that I had forgotten about, so I was able to combine reading and listening, as convenient, which I'm really growing to love.  

 

Daunis is a biracial, unenrolled tribal member (daughter of a bit of a scandalous relationship situation) finishing up her senior year of high school, getting ready to follow her grandmother's plans to go to college and become a doctor. Although she's changed her plans to stay local and take care of her mother (in the wake of her uncle's sudden/untimely death), she's still planning to follow through on those dreams. Although she's never really felt like she fit in anywhere (neither in her hometown nor with her family on the nearby Ojibwe reservation), and she has strict rules about guys and keeping certain parts of her life separate, she starts to fall for a new recruit to her brother's hockey team, Jamie. But then tragedy strikes, in the form of a violent murder Daunis witnesses, she finds out that Jamie is very much not what he seems and she reluctantly finds herself working undercover on an investigation into new and very dangerous form of meth, one that she is uniquely qualified to help track, with her knowledge of both chemistry and traditional medicine, and with the position(s) she holds within her community. But these kinds of operations aren't easy, or safe, and Daunis finds her life, her body, her emotions, and her family/friends are on the line. 

 

Well, I'm glad I gave this one a chance! I won't give too much detail about the plot or anything, past what was in the description, because I feel like, considering the genre, it would be best for anyone wanting to read it to go in without any more info. It's enough to say, I think, that the pacing was fantastic - the development of the plot, with reveals and realizations and twists (some of which are easier to spot, but at least one that came as a pretty big surprise), and the growth and movement of character interactions/relationships - was all compelling. This was definitely the page-turner I was looking for. And while it is definitely YA, as far as the characters themselves, some of their decisions and thought processes, and just the general vibe, I do want to note that the topics/themes (I'll talk more in detail about those in just a bit), are as adult as they come. And I liked that, because while young adults are not, in fact, adults, that doesn't mean they don't have to deal with adult things...Boulley handled walking that line really well. In fact, I thought the adolescent narrative voice was spot on, intelligent, but with all the right blind spots of youth. And honestly, Daunis was a damn force, with such strength and gravitas, and I love her for it. And at the same time, I am full of soft spots in my heart for all the places she was tough, but shouldn’t have had to be. A few final plot-related points that I'll keep vague, but want to mention. First, I was really happy with the way the romance played out - it was the right mix of pragmatic and hopeful that fits Daunis' young adult personality. And finally, the deeply unsatisfying lack of justice in the ending left me so angry, not least because that aspect is more nonfictional than fictional, but it too was the "right" ending. So, I was overall pleased with the wrap-up of the story as well as the compelling rest of it.  

 

So, like I said, this book is not for the faint of heart, topically. Daunis witnesses violent crimes, there are multiple deaths, meth addiction is a major focal point, there are both references to and scenes of sexual assault/rape, there's kidnapping, and there's quite a bit of content related to race and gate-keeping and misogyny. There is so much grief and letdown and pain in this novel, and yet there is also such beautiful community and acceptance and heart-filling relationships. The contrast is stark, and everything almost hurts more because of it, in a way that is exquisitely well written. Overall, this was a much more emotionally intense read than I had been expecting, though it does help explain how the reviews were so glowing for what I thought was just a crime mystery/thriller. 

 

The final thing I really want to highlight about this novel are the Anishinaabe cultural and traditional and belief details. I was fascinated by them and loved the care and meaning in Boulley's portrayal of it all. In addition, the Anishinaabe language that was used throughout was wonderful, and made me extra grateful to also have access to the audiobook, so I could hear it come to life (on this note, while I have no actual knowledge of how well the narrator did objectively, I subjectively thought they were phenomenal). I loved the stories and parables sprinkled throughout the novel as well, and in particular was struck by the guiding principle of thinking seven generations ahead when making decisions - this seems like a light to live by that we'd all be better off if we followed. Relatedly, the bonds of family and community were such important themes in this novel, and Daunis draws such wonderful strength from them. The honor for the elders, in ways both traditional/historic and in adorable “current” ways, was especially heart-warming. 

 

Well, this was a compulsively readable story. It had wonderful cultural representation, addressed a number of real-life issues, was told in a very genuine YA narrative voice, and had some important messages for the reader, especially that lies, even those we tell to protect, are exhausting and still cause real hurt. Despite the pain in the novel, there are also many moments of beauty. And the closing prayer that Boulley leaves the reader with is absolutely stunning. 

 

“When someone dies, everything about them becomes past tense. Except for the grief. Grief stays in the present.” 

 

“It’s hard to explain what it’s like being so connected to everyone and everything here…yet feeling that no one ever sees the whole me.” 

 

“It’s hard when being Native means different things depending on who’s asking and why. […] It’s your identity, but it gets defined or controlled by other people.” 

 

“When you love someone, but don’t like parts of them, it complicates your memories of them when they’re gone.”

 

“It’s hard to reconcile not liking, even despising, parts of someone you love.”

 

“Do you ever have days where every different emotion seems to cling to you and it’s just…too much?” (This, all of this.)

 

“Love is a promise. And promises you don’t keep are the worst lies of all.”

“When our loved ones die, the love stays alive in the present.”

 

“I am so tired. The weight of my expendability is crushing.” (This one line is so fucking heavy.)

 

“To know truth is to accept what cannot be known.”