Third Mead Mishaps book here we gooooooo!!!

Cherry loved fairy tale adventures until one of them happened to her. She had no idea how hard it would be to escape a remote island, especially with a great grieving dragon circling the lone tower. Even if the dragon sleeps most of the time, he will wake up the moment Cherry finishes a suitable raft, because Murphy’s Law. Still, Cherry refuses to give up, even if her prayers are answered by another damn dragon crashing into her tower.

That Time I Got Drunk and Saved a Human centers Cherry and Dante aka the lost sister and corrupted dragon from the first book. If you read my reviews of the previous Mead Mishaps entries, you know what to expect from Book 3. The sex scenes are hot, hot, hot. The relationship progresses wonderfully. The colorful cast of characters are so in love and invested in making one another happy. Everyone likes being cozy. It’s exactly what I want to read forever. The world of Saved a Human feels broader than the second one, as our heroes go zipping off to traditional demon lands, sky islands, and coastal towns. Seriously, I need Dante’s teleportation stone set. Travel would be so convenient! I continue to adore the magic system and magical mechanics of Lemming’s universe. So much of the world’s history and magical lore lends itself to love, building community, and favoring cooperation. Cozy fantasy is a growing genre, so I hope to see more magic like this, as opposed to individualist power struggles. 

With a fourth book promised for 2024, I’m eagerly awaiting to read more from Lemming. There’s definitely more to explore. Fallon and Dante being dragon buddies is a treat, and that promised lost kingdom adventure sounds like excellent romp material. Also! Alexis! What will happen to our beloved bawdy sword friend? All I know is, the story will spark much joy.

My review of That Time I Got Drunk and Saved a Demon: https://app.thestorygraph.com/reviews/c28c54c6-0e4a-40d6-bd0e-2b2ee5d70932

My review of That Time I Got Drunk and Yeeted a Love Potion at a Werewolf: https://app.thestorygraph.com/reviews/579f8033-e22e-49f9-9131-dbd6c2bfe9b2

I’m a bit startled how long it’s taken me to read a NK Jemisin book. I own multiple volumes of her work, but I was never in the mood, or had little time. Luckily, our sapphic book club gave me the push I needed to pick up The City We Became. 

When travelogues chronicle cities, they often speak of a city’s “pulse,” “soul,” or “lifeblood.” We layer the human body onto the map, and NK Jemisin takes this concept and runs. New York’s boroughs each have a scion, an avatar of their history and their inhabitants, and together they must safely wake a single New York City avatar into this modern age. No sooner have these people learned their destines then something goes horribly wrong. The Woman in White’s tentacles invade, homogenizes, and gentrify. 

Too often in speculative fiction, an author has really cool ideas, but lacks the skills to communicate or execute them in an accessible and entertaining manner. I say “an author,” but I 100% mean myself, haha. Shit’s hard! I’m no NK Jemisin. The City We Became’s Lovecraftian metaphysics and non-Euclidian geometry are delightful. I love how unflinching this book’s ode to New York City is. Jemisin refuses to gloss over the metropolis’ weighty problems while also raising up that’s good about the place. I used to actively hate NYC and wish it would disappear into the ocean. Now I only passively hate it, like a true New Yorker. For all the characters are metaphors for their neighborhoods, they’re distinct, loveable, and memorable individuals too. Even the villain, the Woman in White, is complicated and sympathetic: the “aren’t I what you made me?” speech haunted. As much as I wanted Bronca to crush her to death with her boots, I equally hoped the Woman would find another, less harmful way to be. 

The City We Became is a gritty, uplifting story about the strength found in diversity and community. White supremacy, colonialism, homophobia, and the other evils of the world may seem insurmountable, but they break first. Definitely hunting down the sequel!

Finally, finally, after waiting through many, many holds, the Rebecca audiobook became available at my local library. Since I first dipped a tentative toe in the Gothic genre, Rebecca has sung a siren song. 

The narrator and protagonist of Rebecca is an unnamed, introverted woman with lots of book smarts and anxiety. While working as a lady’s companion to the loud Mrs. Van Hopper in Monte Carlo, she meets equally introverted Maxim de Winter, who broods like a chicken over of the egg of his past marriage and the decline of his family estate, Manderley. The pair get on famously. They enjoy avoiding large crowds, chatting to each other, petting dogs, seeing the sights, and encouraging the narrator’s new hobby of painting watercolor landscapes. Love is in the air. When Mrs. Van Hopper abruptly decides to leave Monte Carlo, the narrator and Maxim despair at ever seeing each other again. To avoid any separation, Maxim proposes that the narrator marry him. The nervous narrator accepts. While she loves Maxim, she already knows many more anxieties lay ahead. She’s never had much spending money, much less run a grand estate like Manderley. 

The above is possibly the silliest summary of Rebecca ever, but I wanted to emphasize how, underneath all the haunted house trappings, Rebecca is a down-to-earth, mid-20s-coming-of-age love story. I wish there were more ghost stories that wove together love and specters so beautifully. Throughout the book, little hints drop like breadcrumbs, revealing that Mr. and Mrs. de Winter are compatible from the get-go and do love each other. Their relationship struggles with their different socio-economic backgrounds, Mrs. de Winter’s social anxiety, and Mr. de Winter’s obliviousness to feminine expectations and social roles. They hold too much of themselves back; hemmed in by what they think the other wants. A certain duo’s outside interference doesn’t help. The twist was like dam explosion on an emotional level. Suddenly, the honesty and clear communication their marriage desperately needed burst readily available. While the novel ends in fire, I got the sense that the de Winters have the most felicitous of marriages. 

After the Monte Carlo sequence, the book moves to Manderley proper, and the plot dragged after umpteenth scene of Mrs. de Winter being embarrassed. Even the lush, spooky atmosphere couldn’t make up for it. Thankfully, the twist sped the pace back up. This issue with the pacing won’t diminish my 5 star rating. Like other reviewers have noted, Rebecca is the gold standard of the “haunted house without a ghost” genre. Mrs. Danvers is a lesbian literary icon for good reason. The audiobook performance is phenomenal, and I can’t help but think worth the wait. 

Happily, Rebecca more than lives up to its reputation. Du Maurier came into her art with this novel. 

Sailor Moon: Stars is the three volume finale to the Sailor Moon series. Despite how many times I read the previous volumes, this read was my first time going through Stars. 

After the successful defeat of Queen Nehelenia, Usagi idly remarks, “After all, we’re made of stars.” What she did not know is that statement is quite literal. Inside each living person, animal, planet, star, and asteroid is a star seed. Think like the Force from Star Wars, dao from Daoism, or the gems from Steven Universe. Sailor Scouts have an additional Sailor Crystal, which is the source of their powers. All across the universe, star crystal-imbued Guardians protect their solar systems from Chaos. All this lore becomes abundantly clear when Sailor Scouts from other universes show up on Earth as refuges from the rogue Sailor Galaxia. This genocidal asshole collects Sailor Crystals for sport, obliterating entire planets and communities. When she sets her eyes on our solar system, Usagi and friends know they’re in big trouble. 

Sailor Moon: Stars is a surprisingly dark wrap up to the series. While main characters have died before, the act was not graphic and flew over my head for the most part. In the Stars arc, the characters literally explode in panel, and Usagi is so traumatized that she represses huge swathes of memories. As one can guess from my above summary, metaphysics plays a heavy role. Hefty world-building doesn’t gel well with Takeuchi-san’s typical fast-paced storytelling, so I looked up several elements on the Sailor Moon wiki to keep up. 

On the other hand, the art notched up its beauty, making every outfit, every idle look worthy of a poster. Every volume is queerer than the last. Rei and Mina declare Usagi as their true love. There are genderfluid Guardians. So very, very cool. While the previous series dealt with the past and imminent future, Stars occupies itself with legacy. What will Sailor Moon leave behind for the next generation? Will there be another generation? How do we keep going when the grief weighs heavy, and we long for the dead? What is the emotional toll of eternal battles, being the eternal Chosen One, and long, long life? I have no idea what was going on in Takeuchi-san’s life in 1996, but goddamn, she pulls no punches. As much as she kickstarted the Magical Girl genre, Takeuchi-san sends it to an almost dystopian end point. 

Having read the series completely, I’m filled with the urge to read it again, slower this time. As I grow older, I’ll no doubt take new meanings from the text. Sailor Moon is like that for me. With her, I’m never alone.

My review of the initial Sailor Moon series: https://app.thestorygraph.com/reviews/fe810c82-313e-4b17-9261-dd628b7764e4

My review of the Sailor Moon Super S: https://app.thestorygraph.com/reviews/3cfb462e-aeca-465d-9857-3afe42b281bb

While I’ve re-read the original ten volume Sailor Moon series, Sailor Moon Super S is entirely new territory for me. With the no loose ends after the Death Buster’s destruction, I thought the series was over! Not so. 

Peace doesn’t last long in Tokyo. On the day that Small Lady is set to return to the future, a solar eclipse grants visions of a flying Spanish galleon and advertisements for a Dead Moon Circus. Since that’s highly suspicious, the Sailor Squad delays Small Lady’s return and investigates. What they uncover shifts their understanding of Mamoru’s past Earth Kingdom, Small Lady’s destiny, and their place in the broader Sailor universe. Everyone figures out they’re queer at this point. Super S covers the Dream arc, with Pegasus and the Amazons. 

I can’t believe small me was literally one volume away from lesbian triad parenting. What the fuck. The trajectory of my life would have changed. Young me didn’t know women could live in domestic bliss together! The Kaiou-Tenou-Meiou household was the biggest surprise for me. While the overarching plot is fairly repetitive to the previous arcs (they take down minions one-by-one and then fight the big boss), the side-tangents and shifting themes captivated. The previous arcs focused on the Sailor Scouts recovering their past, with all its destinies, failures, and triumphs. The Dream arc has them focusing on the immediate future. Just like any other new adult, they must decide what kind of people they want to be and what traditions to carry on. It was heartwarming to see the Scouts choose to be loving and just, and to shed what didn’t serve them. Perhaps because there’s only one enemy, the characters have some breathing room to grow from their two-note selves. I saw Luna and Artemis’ human forms! Yay! Takeuchi-san’s art maintains its high quality. 

Onward to Sailor Moon: Stars!

My review of the initial Sailor Moon run: https://app.thestorygraph.com/reviews/fe810c82-313e-4b17-9261-dd628b7764e4 

My review of Sailor Moon: Stars final arc: https://app.thestorygraph.com/reviews/a6353bdc-2ac2-4345-b40e-419d01f9803e